#Tim doesn’t like others talking about it because he knows it’s his fault that Britva went unchecked for so long

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Eldritch AU: A Name Not To Be Spoken

Among the Fowl’s cult, there are many rumors- stories whispered of older members of the following, powerful and to be feared. Matthew has many, as does The Major. Everyone loves a good story to tell around the table at night.

One name that is never to be whispered about, however, is Britva.

The Hunt manifests in strange ways… the urge to chase, prey and kill. It’s a simple matter for most to learn to quiet its stirrings well enough, and never turn their teeth on one another. To develop a taste for their own is supposed to be unspeakable, unheard of…

Britva was an early follower of the Fowl cult, they say, completely enamored with Artemis and the words he preached (not unlike his newest follower, one white-suited Spiro…). He was ferocious, bloodied his hands without question and with joy in his heart. Over time, however, he grew hungrier, for more. What started as picking out the weakest alongside him, hunting them down out of sight, dragging them from their beds at night, turned to plucking Foxworth’s from the webs, Angeline’s from her garden. Unable to unearth who was at fault, the gods raged at each other, maddened with anger at the loss of their own.

In time, even this wasn’t enough. The man set his sights on larger prey- for wasn’t it by the taste of Artemis’s own blood that his wife achieved godhood? Tired of serving what he saw as divinity, Britva wanted it for himself. It was a simple enough matter to drive the ever-ravenous Artemis to sleep with drugged, bloodied wine. In the dead of night under the full moon, he crept to Artemis’s side, knife in hand- and there, he cut out his eye and ate it.

Artemis awoke instantly, earth shaking as the god went into an unconsolable rage, flapping wings like thunder, bared teeth snapping at empty air. The god left half-blinded, Britva managed to slip through his claws, escaping as the others fled The Hunt’s fury. It took Foxworth’s full might and magic to subdue Artemis and heal the dreadful wound (though full sight would never be Artemis’s again).

Britva would never live a life unhunted again, but upon, months later, his discovery at the claws of one very angry Fowl, he found that he had achieved at least in part what he wanted- immortality, or something akin to it. Try as Artemis might, he could not kill him, not with tooth or talon or dreadful magic. Alight with fury, the god instead cursed what had once been his most loyal follower- for tasting of gods’ flesh to sate his appetite, he would never know contentment, satiation or peace again. He would hunger- maddening, painful, violent hunger- for the rest of eternity.

Britva in kind promised he would hunt down every Fowl he could find, be they follower or of the god’s own blood, until nothing was left but he and Tim and a scorched earth. Fleeing the elder god, the man shed his human form like a snake sheds its skin, disappearing into the deep waters of the ocean where even Artemis couldn’t reach him.

So now, they say, he waits, snapping up any he or his own scattered following can find, waiting for the day he can sink his teeth into gods’ flesh once more. But… don’t let Artemis (or Foxworth) catch you talking about that, or you’ll lose more than an eye for it.