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sakon76Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 14th August 2021
Draal stood growling in the Trollhunter's backyard. The actual Trollhunter, not the whelp from the future who had a different amulet and the gall to best him in combat.
He hefted a rock, aiming.
"You know," a voice said from behind him, "if you're trying to wake someone, you usually use a pebble."
Draal spun. Standing behind him was a gaunt fleshbag with blue witch-light wreathing his hands. A wizard!
"Breaking people's windows is just rude," the mage continued, "and I'd hate for you to disturb Toby and Missus Domzalski the way you've disturbed my wards."
Draal growled. "You are the reason I can't tunnel into his basement."
"Guilty as charged." The wizard tilted his head to one side. "I think I remember you. Weren't you at Dwoza?"
Draal's eyes widened. "You're Merlin's apprentice."
"Indeed I am. Hisirdoux Casperan, at your service." This was accompanied by the sketch of a bow, though the mage's eyes never left Draal's. "Afraid I didn't catch your name, though."
Wizards were tricky, and not entirely to be trusted. Still, "I am Draal."
Eyes widened, enlightenment crossing Hisirdoux's face. "Ah, Jim's spoken about you." The witch-light dimmed, and the mage tucked his hands into the pockets of his outer garment. "He holds you in high esteem, you know. I'd hate to have his trust in you shattered by something stupid. Like, say, you breaking into his friend's house to kill Toby and try and take the amulet."
"I would never!" Draal snarled.
"Well then." The wizard perched atop a rock. "How about you tell me why exactly I should let you past my wards."
Draal glared, then settled. "The Trollhunter is vulnerable," he admitted. "He sleeps unprotected in this flimsy human dwelling. I would guard him."
"Not exactly unprotected, as you've found out."
"I did not know there was a wizard involved."
"Still." The wizard drew one leg up to himself, arms draped around it. "I'll grant you this: there is a weakness in the wards. They keep out only the uninvited. And Toby's grandmother's vision is so bad she might invite in Bular himself, if he thought to be polite at the door."
Draal scoffed at the thought of Bular being polite.
"She also might well invite in someone wearing a glamour mask, or changelings. And the Janus Order serves only one master."
"Changelings?" Draal paused, felt almost breathless at the unbidden memory of one changeling in particular-- But he shoved that memory, and the feelings associated with it, away.
"I see you know of them."
Draal snarled. "They're impure, worthless mockeries of trolls--"
The wizard went very still. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. And... sad? "That sounds very much like what mortals have called my kind. Flaws to be burned out of their society. Be careful, Draal," he said quietly, "lest you end up becoming like your enemies."
What?
But before Draal could make sense of his words, the wizard went on. "I'll make you a deal," he offered. "I'll grant you, and only you, a pass through the wards. In exchange, you guard both Toby and his grandmother from those who mean them harm."
Draal snorted.
"Take it or leave it," said the wizard.
"You know what?" another voice said, coming from behind Draal. He whirled. The future-Trollhunter stood there, watching. How long had he been there while the wizard distracted Draal? "I have an idea. Missus Domzalski really does have terrible eyesight. You could probably train Toby right here in the backyard, if you wanted."
Draal felt his hackles rise, but forced himself back toward calm. "That would be... acceptable," he allowed. The Trollhunter needed far more training than a few paltry hours in the Forge could grant.
The future-Trollhunter, Jim, smiled at Draal like they were the best of friends and he had the utmost confidence in him. His presumption itched. But... not as much as Draal would have expected. "Great! It's settled."
"Well, then." The wizard hopped off his rock and strode over to Draal. The first two fingers of his left hand glowed as he held them up, a small circle forming, scribed with symbols Draal could not read. "Murus Licentia." His voice was deep, suddenly, echoing with all the power of the universe as he lightly touched Draal's forehead.
Blue light washed over Draal, cool and tingly, then was gone.
"Just, try not to eat their cats," the wizard asked. "Missus Domzalski is quite fond of them."
"I make no promises," said Draal.
"You know, Douxie," said Jim thoughtfully, "you might want to do that for Blinky and Aaarrrgghh too."
The wizard tucked his hands back into his pockets and shrugged. "And whenever I meet them, I shall."
Living with Douxie and Archie in the next bedroom felt, on one hand, deeply weird. The wizard wasn't a bother - his showers were quick, his music never loud, and he had completely taken over Jim's cleaning routine, leaving Jim with a lot more free time. But Jim hadn't shared space with anyone but his mother since he was five, so it was really really strange to bump into the wizard or the dragon when going upstairs, or to come home and find them arguing over a book, a movie, or a spell.
On the other hand, sometimes it felt really nice, like right now when Jim was in his room trying to do his math homework and Douxie was in his room quietly playing a tune that might be from the nineteen-sixties or maybe the sixteen-sixties. "Hey," Jim called out, "how do you find the root of a polynomial?"
"Haven't a clue," Douxie called back.
"Aren't you supposed to be a high school graduate?"
"The operative phrase there is 'supposed to be'."
Rolling his eyes, Archie walked through the doorway and jumped up on Jim's desk. He pulled the paper closer to himself with one paw, examining it. "Douxie is brilliant at arcane runes," he murmured. "But anything beyond basic household finance, I'm afraid, is a mystery to him. All right. What you'll want to do is...."
"Wow, Jim," Claire said to him after rehearsal wrapped up, "you're pretty good at this."
"Thanks."
"I mean, you didn't go out for theater last year, so I wouldn't have thought you'd be into it."
Looking into her deep brown eyes, Jim smiled. "It helps to be onstage with someone like you. Someone so determined, I mean," he floundered. "You're really good."
"Thanks. Let's just hope my parents think so."
"I'm sure they will," Jim said with conviction. "Hey, Claire... would you maybe like to go get some burgers and milkshakes with me sometime?"
She blinked. "Like a date?"
"Like a date," Jim confirmed.
"Well... sure. I guess?"
"Great!" They walked on toward the front of the school. Jim bit his lip, trying to think of conversation. "Um, oh, you know how we have the field trip to the museum tomorrow?"
"Uh-huh?"
"I was thinking, do you think the curator might be able to help us figure out what we want to do for costumes?"
Claire's expression lit up. "Jim, that's brilliant!" And then, almost shyly, "and maybe we could get those burgers after school then?"
Jim grinned. "It's a date."
Toby gaped. "Wow, you got a date with Claire?"
"Well done, Jim," Douxie agreed.
"Pay attention!" Draal snapped at Toby. "Your stance is weak. Turn your back foot out."
"Like this?" Toby tried.
"No, like--" The troll bit off a huff and turned to Jim. "You. Demonstrate for him."
Picking up a stick to be a pretend sword, Jim walked over to Toby and stood next to him. First, he imitated Toby's stance, then turned his right foot further out to the side, and bent his knees, rooting himself. "Like this?"
"Like that," Draal told Toby, who looked at Jim then copied him. "Better. Do you feel how you are solid now, like a stone? You cannot be pushed down." And so saying, he pushed against Toby's armored chest, gently at first, but then with increasing strength. True to Draal's words, Toby leaned back slightly, but ultimately did not fall.
A lightbulb expression flashed across Toby's face. "I get it!" he said excitedly.
"Good. Now, step out of the stance, and then back into it." Draal led Toby and Jim through a series of moves, slowly but repetitively. Toby got his stance perfect now, every time.
"Wax on, wax off," Douxie called to them.
"I gotta admit, man, I expected you to be more weirded out by this," Toby replied, half distracted.
Douxie laughed. "I work in the arcane bookshop. Trolls and magic armor are not the strangest things I've seen." His phone beeped and he glanced at it, then hopped off his rock. "I'm off. I promised Gabe I'd cover the end half of his shift tonight. See you later!" With a half-salute, he wandered out of the yard.
At half past eleven, Douxie finally switched the cafe's sign from OPEN to NOPE. He waved Crystal out the door, into her waiting boyfriend's car, off to her well-deserved rest. She had actually worked a full shift, but covering for Gabe earned Douxie a future favor-in-kind should he ever need to go on a date (unlikely) or beg off for a magical emergency (significantly more possible), so it was well worth his while. Plus he was the only one of his coworkers who really didn't mind closing up. Even in suburban Arcadia, the deep of the night still lit a tiny spark of primordial fear in the souls of modern humans.
He whistled a waltz for a while as he worked, dancing into the back, arms laden with abandoned dishes. He emptied them into the big bin and set the washer going while he tied up the bag and hauled it out back to the dumpster. Then it was a clean trash bag in for the morning shift, and letting the dishes cool down while he went back into the dining room, where he wiped counters, fluffed couch cushions, and finally swept floors.
Archie, laying on the sofa nearest the door, pricked up his ears. He stood. "Douxie...."
"I know. I hear it too," Douxie confirmed softly. There had been a low, low growling growing in his ears for the last few minutes. "Shall we face the music?"
"I'm afraid I don't like this tune."
Douxie pulled a face. "Afraid I'm not very fond of it either. You stay here, Arch," he said, and activated one particular rune on his bracer before stepping out the front door of the cafe to face a dark, empty street, and the glowing eyes of the Gumm-Gumm who waited there.
"Wizard," snarled Bular. Well, he could hardly mistake Douxie for anything else with the way his magic limned him, surrounded the broom in his hand.
"Bular the Butcher," Douxie greeted in return, as calm as he knew how to be, "son of Gunmar the Black." Greetings and defiance went unsaid.
"You reek of the Trollhunter's amulet. Tell me where he is!"
"Don't you mean 'who'?" asked Douxie, willing his heart to stop pounding. The adrenaline he could do with; the near-audible indication of fear, not so much.
Fear can keep you alive, he remembered Merlin telling him once. Use it, boy.
Bular roared. "Tell me, or I shall rip you limb from limb!"
Douxie blinked. Then, he couldn't help it, he laughed. "Is that the best you've got?" he asked. "I mean, I've been threatened by the Arcane Order. Compared to them, you really need to level up."
Almost as swift as thought, Bular unsheathed one of his swords and swung, attempting to cut Douxie in two.
Douxie blocked the blade, with a wooden broomstick glowing blue with his magic.
"You really think that after nine hundred years pushing a broom, I haven't learned how to use a staff?" Douxie demanded.
"You're just an apprentice," said Bular. "You're weak."
"I'm more than you know," said Douxie. Grunting, he shoved Bular's sword back, cafe broom flaring bright blue. They traded a flurry of blows, ending up in the center of the street, car alarms going off as Bular's weight crushed the vehicles. Teeth clenched together in a grimace, Douxie gathered power, dropped one hand from the broom and hurled a spell at Bular. "Caecus Lux!"
The spell struck true on the Gumm-Gumm's face, splattering over his eyes. He howled, clawing at them. Douxie took the opportunity to round Bular, on near-silent sneakered feet, trying not to breathe hard. He was a master wizard, but with no staff he was severely limited in how much power he could call on.
What can I do? He caught a glimpse of Archie, still inside the cafe, eyes wide behind gold-rimmed glasses.
Fire? he thought. No, fire only scorches stone, it's useless against trolls.
Bular snarled, finally flinging the last of the blinding spell away. "Where are you, boy?" he demanded, circling. Douxie barely managed to stay behind him, in his blind spot. "You can't hide forever. And wizards are tasty."
Douxie saw Archie stiffen.
If fire doesn't work, what does? What's the opposite? Water? Water! Douxie clawed for his bracelet, spinning it, eyes searching for the right rune, where was it, curse his lack of organization--
"Water," he said, far more calmly than he felt, "wears away stone." And with just about everything he had, "Aqua Afflatus!"
Out of nowhere, a deluge of water struck Bular like a human getting blasted by the full force of a fire hydrant. He howled, snarled, struggled against it for a moment--
--but was ultimately blasted away by it, down the street, and hopefully miles away by the time the spell wore out.
Wiped, Douxie fell to his knees on the wet tarmac. He leaned against the ground, his arms trembling as he fought to catch his breath.
The cafe's door opened; a second later Archie squirmed under Douxie. He'd gone back to being a dragon, Douxie noticed. "I think that went well," he offered.
"You're mad. Completely mad," Archie said, and nuzzled against him, purring proudly. Douxie gladly accepted the affection, and the warmth. He was shivering, he realized. Cold.
"Think I'm about tapped out," he said. His legs, he was pretty sure, were going to be as wobbly as his arms.
"Let's go home," Archie said, and helped him to stand.
"Home sounds great," agreed Douxie.
Author's Note: My biggest "suspension of disbelief" problem with Trollhunters is Jim's house having a basement. I grew up in SoCal. I lived there for over thirty years. It's earthquake country, not tornado country. Houses there do not have basements! But at the same time, I understand the narrative necessity. So, whatever. (Also, in rewatching the series, the Lake house is a two-bed one-bath dwelling. There are bigger logistical gaps in canon between the three series, so I'm handwaving that fact for plot purposes.) When attempting to figure out verbiage for Douxie's spells, I went the fast and dirty Harry Potter route and used Google to translate words into Latin. I would have used Welsh, but I have too much respect for Welsh, as an oppressed living language, to mangle it so. The possibly-real historical Arthur probably lived in post-Roman Britain, so Douxie using Latin-based spells is in fact somewhat valid. "Wax on, wax off" refers to the original Karate Kid movie (I really gotta watch Cobra Kai at some point) and for those who caught it, greetings and defiance refers to Diane Duane's wonderful Young Wizards book series.
