[fic] [Tales of Arcadia] Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet 56/?

[sakon76]

Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 16th November 2021

Waltolomew knocked on Nomura's apartment door at precisely five minutes to five a.m. He could have just broken in and taken Krax without waking her, but he suspected any lockpicks going into the keyhole would have... interesting effects.

He certainly had that sort of enchantment on every possible entrance point into his own home.

Nomura opened the door promptly, showing that his concern for her sleep was misplaced. She was dressed and ready to kill work, not a hair out of place.

"About time," she said.

"What a lovely morning," he said, mostly to needle her. "A glorious sunrise, and just smell that fresh air."

Nomura wasn't buying it. "Take him, get him out of my hair, and if I ever see him again it'll be his last five minutes on Earth," she warned, stalking back into her apartment.

"Am I to understand he has not been the most gracious of guests?" Waltolomew asked, following her. A blond man was laying on the floor of her living room, bound by rope. Waltolomew knelt down next to him. "My, Krax, you truly must have irritated her," he commented, tapping at the gag in the man's mouth. "Do come with me, and we will set this straight," he said, pulling the man to his feet. He took the trailing end of the rope and undid Nomura's neat knotwork with a tug. Krax's hands went automatically to his wrists, rubbing at them even as Waltolomew untied the gag as well. "Say goodbye to Nomura," he instructed.

Krax growled balefully at Nomura, but followed Waltolomew out of the apartment. The door closed behind them.

He could practically feel the other changeling's angry gaze boring holes into his back. But if he thought Waltolomew was as defenseless as he seemed, if he tried to attack... well, Krax would be in for a nasty surprise.

"I voted to kill you, you know," he said, leading the way down the white-painted stairs to the ground floor. "You owe your life to the Trollhunter's determination to spare as many of our kind as possible."

"I owe my life to Gunmar," Krax growled.

"Yes, well, the fell lord isn't going to return," Waltolomew informed him, letting on no hint of the Trollhunters' plans. "So either you can enjoy life on Earth as it is, or you can choose to take a long walk off a short pier." He opened the passenger side to his deliberately nondescript vehicle. Snarling, Krax seated himself.

"Is there truly nothing about Earth as it is that you enjoy?" Waltolomew asked once he had seated himself and fastened his seatbelt. He checked his mirrors and turned the key over in the ignition. "The quality and variety of human food? The amusing distraction of their entertainment?"

Krax stared sulkily out the window.

Waltolomew waited him out.

"I like the trees," Krax finally admitted.

"Well, fortuitously for you, you are being reassigned to the Pacific Northwest," Waltolomew said. "I understand there are many trees there for you to contemplate and enjoy."

"What?" Krax seemed taken aback.

Waltolomew reached into the back seat and picked up a manila folder of documents, handing it to the changeling. "Your plane ticket, a rental car reservation, headquarters information, and some untraceable cash on a debit card to get you through the first few days. The PIN's in the file. And I trust you still have your wallet?" Krax mutely nodded. "The Seattle office should help you to get settled, and I understand there are plentiful local employment options in many fields."

His part said, Waltolomew was content to remain in silence while Krax thought.

Finally, "Why do this for me?" the changeling asked.

"As I said. The Trollhunter wants you to live. We just prefer you do so away from here. What you make of the rest of your life... well, that's up to you."

A spiteful sniff. "He is most generous."

"He spares your life. Would you have spared his?" Waltolomew already knew the answer, so he let Krax stew in silence until they reached the airport. He pulled curbside at the appropriate airline and unlocked the car doors. Krax unbuckled himself, but before he could exit the vehicle, Waltolomew reached over a hand. "I realize it is difficult to change," he said, "but change is in our very nature. You are being given an opportunity, as am I. Personally, Krax? I recommend you take advantage of it."

He left his fellow changeling behind him, at the airport, having done as much for him as he could.

---

Hisirdoux woke in the darkness. Turning over in bed, away from Archie and toward the window, he saw why.

A silent white star fell from the heavens, landing somewhere on the outskirts of Arcadia Oaks.

It could have been Krel, Aja, and Varvatos' ship... but it was still weeks too early for their arrival.

No, he knew what this was, he thought, sitting up, careful not to disturb Archie.

His intuition was borne out a few moments later when a ghostly green raven tapped at his window. "Go away," he breathed, shooing it. "I'm coming. Give me a minute to get dressed."

The raven nodded, and dissipated. Douxie eased out of bed and out of his pajamas, getting dressed in near complete silence.

He knew almost exactly what was coming. Merlin had returned, and wanted a private word with him.

Douxie hesitated, then removed his vambrace. Maybe, maybe, if he came completely unarmed. If he showed Merlin he wasn't any kind of threat. If his master could just see that he wouldn't fight against the good of the world....

Maybe they could mend things.

His fingers nonetheless trembled as he set his vambrace on his dresser. His mouth pressed in a line. He cast his sleeping familiar a long look. Archie's tail twitched in dreams. "Love you," Douxie whispered, then crept out and closed the door behind himself.

On silent stockinged feet he moved to the next room, easing that door open to see Jim, illuminated only by the streetlights outside, peacefully asleep. Douxie smiled softly. Jim was so good, down to the core of him. An easy swirl of his wrist summoned the piece of tiger's eye Douxie had found, dusty and forgotten, behind a row of supernatural romance paperbacks at the bookstore. He set it down on Jim's desk. Just in case.

After leaving Jim's room, he checked on Barbara. She, too, was asleep, her glasses folded on her bedside table. Douxie magically filled the nearly empty water glass - Barbara always woke thirsty. He conjured a white rosebud and laid it beside the glass. A second's enchantment ensured that the bloom would never fade. "Thank you," he murmured, and shut her door again, too.

He laced his hightops on by the front door, and made sure he had the house key in his pocket. He was coming back. He was.

The door closed behind him. He went into the woods.

Once away from the suburbs, the light dimmed rapidly. Dawn was still a while away. Douxie walked, listening to the soft nocturnal wildlife sounds, minding the placement of his feet. He didn't bother with witchlight - his sight was sharp enough that he didn't need it. Sharper than most people's, he'd always thought. One of the benefits to being a wizard.

It wasn't long, less than fifteen minutes, until he came to the clearing where Merlin had chosen to park his airship. Hisirdoux paused, taking in the sight of the sleek ivory and gold vessel. There was some irony to be found somewhere, he thought, in the fact that he couldn't drive a car, but he could pilot an airship. Not that he'd likely be allowed to ever again.

Merlin stood in front of the vessel, a streak of black against its white.

Douxie stepped into the clearing. "I know I taught you how texting works," he said.

Merlin snorted and pulled his cellphone out. "The blasted thing said it needed charging," he said, tossing it to Douxie, who caught it. "So I tried."

Douxie tapped at the phone, pressed its buttons. He looked up at his master. "You tried charging it with magic, didn't you?" he accused.

"How else is one supposed to do such things?"

"With electricity!" Douxie ran his hand through his hair, aggrieved. "I showed you where the charging cable plugs in! I showed you how the other end goes in the wall socket! This is a brick now--it's completely useless. I'll have to take it back to HexTech for a new one and hope Zoe honors the warranty."

Merlin sniffed. "Modern technology," he said deprecatingly.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but we're surrounded by it. Magic's a legend, nothing more, to most people. Wizardry's fallen by the wayside and been forgotten."

Merlin's frown deepened. "I know, Hisirdoux. And what have you done to prevent that?"

Douxie instinctively stepped back, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling up. He was in real danger here, he suddenly realized. "Are you... accusing me of causing magic to be lost?" he breathed.

Of all the things he had expected, it hadn't been this.

"I would expect," Merlin began, "an apprentice of mine to keep magic alive. To share and spread the art, not to let it die away."

Douxie choked on a breath. "Have you... have you not seen what's been happening over the last nine hundred years?" he asked incredulously. "Didn't you watch all the people who were accused of witchcraft being murdered?"

"I would have expected you to rescue your kind," Merlin replied, glowering. "Not to run and save your own skin."

"I'm not a master," Douxie said numbly. "I couldn't save them all."

"I know," Merlin said, turning from him, leaning against his staff. There was regret in all the lines of his master's body. "I should have known better than to lay my legacy on your shoulders."

Douxie was very quiet for a minute. Then, "What did the scrying stone show you, Master?"

"To my sorrow, it showed me what you will become." Merlin turned back to Hisirdoux. "You will waken the old magics, Hisirdoux. And that, above all, I cannot allow."

"The... old magics?" Douxie asked.

"Yes." A wave of Merlin's staff conjured images of horrors. Most of them Douxie didn't even recognize. Only a few, like the illusory Wild Hunt that thundered by, were within the scope of his knowledge. That and the kraken that was surely kin to Nimue. "You will unleash horrors upon this realm that have been sealed away for millennia."

Douxie spun slowly, trying to take in everything he could. "There's no way around it? No path that leads away?"

"None," said Merlin sadly. "From the moment you found that book."

"But... I can't even read that book," said Douxie, confounded. "I could burn it--"

Merlin scoffed. "Burn a book? You are a wizard, boy. You would sooner destroy your connection with your own familiar."

In his core, Douxie knew that to be true. And even if he got one of his friends to take the book, hide it away... he'd already seen it. Its script, its pictures, were burned into his mind. "Wipe it from my mind," he said. "Sleep spells--they'll create another hole in my memory." It would kill him to lose the closer relationship he'd built with Jim, but better that than....

Merlin shook his head. "You would not forget it. The knowledge resonates with your magic. It is too deeply engrained to be simply removed or forgotten."

Douxie swallowed. "So there's no other way, then."

"None." There was pity in his master's eyes.

Hisirdoux closed his eyes, drew a long, shuddering breath. His hands curled into fists. That was it, then. This was his legacy... to be sealed away, like Morgana, to prevent a tragedy yet to come.

He opened his watering eyes, and raised a hand, regarding the wisps of power that ghosted around his fingers. "I always knew I'd die because of this, sooner or later," he murmured. From the day his magic had manifested, it had been a countdown to when it would cost his life. It was sad to die because of something he so loved.

"Sealing you away is the kinder option, Hisirdoux."

Really? he thought sardonically, looking at his master. "Go ahead and tell yourself lies, old man. This is a worse fate, and you know it. But then," Douxie said, looking at his sorcery one last time, "what else should I deserve?"

Everything since his first day in Camelot had been borrowed time.

He let the wisps of magic vanish, and met his master's gaze again. Even if he'd had his vambrace on, there was no way he could have fought Merlin and won. As an apprentice, he didn't have the sheer power to take on a master wizard. And even if he'd had his staff, Merlin had come here for one purpose, and one purpose alone. There was no way Douxie could have ever evaded him. Evaded this. "Do it," he said.

Merlin slammed the butt of his staff to the ground. Emerald green lines shot out from it, wrapping around the clearing, around Douxie. He felt the spell grab hold of him, freezing him in place. He couldn't have moved if he wanted to.

Better this, he thought, than destroying the world.

Green magic encircled him, so close in color to Nari's, but nowhere near as gentle. She would never know him now, he thought. He hoped it would all go well regardless. He had to trust in her, in Jim. Trust that they would make a better future than the one he'd helped wreck.

Merlin would guide them, and Merlin knew best. Always.

The enchantment bound him, wrapping around his legs, almost painful.

He wished he'd said a proper good-bye to Archie. To Jim. To all of them, he thought, as Merlin began to incant the sealing spell.

And then the master wizard's voice was cut off, truncated by the sword at his throat.

---

"Let him go," Jim said softly. He didn't know just what would happen if he slit Merlin's throat mid-spell, but at the moment he didn't much care.

"Jim--" said Douxie, bound in green magic. Jim ignored him.

"If you don't let him go," he told Merlin, "I will kill you here and now, and I will not regret a thing."

"The boy," said Merlin, not moving a muscle as Excalibur's blade rested just above the neck guard of his armor, "will bring about catastrophe. I have foreseen it."

"I don't give a crap about what you've foreseen," Jim said. "You can't condemn people because of what they might do."

"He is my apprentice," Merlin sniffed. "His actions are my responsibility; his containment, my decision."

White-hot anger burned through Jim's veins at hearing Douxie being discussed like he was a toy, to be used and discarded at the master wizard's will. What he'd heard earlier, with Merlin blaming Douxie for surviving centuries of the world trying to kill him, was bad enough. This, though... this took the cake.

"He's not yours anymore," Jim said, feeling righteous fury light him up. "You could have woken up centuries ago and done something, anything, to help, but you didn't. You abandoned him. Douxie's not yours anymore--he's mine. You don't get to hurt him anymore."

Merlin's eyes were shocked. Jim didn't know why. But he did know that, once upon a time, Merlin had said he used to have a heart like Jim's own. And that he no longer did. "You let yourself grow jaded," he bit out. "You hate that he didn't. That he refuses to see the world as his own personal chessboard the way you do. So you abandoned your responsibility as his master. As his teacher."

Merlin was silent for a moment. Then, "You may be right," he admitted. "Nothing, none of the wickedness of the world, changed his heart."

"You gave up," Jim said. "You gave up on him. Your own student. Your son." He felt the power of Excalibur settle into his very bones. Felt the weight of divine kingship settle on him like a crown and mantle. And it felt right, like something he'd been waiting his whole life to find. "I know all about fathers like you. Now let my brother go, and go back to Camelot." He pulled his sword away from Merlin's throat. "We don't need you any more, old man."

Merlin stared at him for a minute, eyes wide. "I do care," he said eventually.

"Just not enough to act like it," Jim retorted. "You obviously weren't a good master for Morgana, and you're obviously not a good master for Douxie, either. Give up teaching and go sit in your high tower, lording your superiority over the rest of us. It's what you're best at."

"Gunmar--" Merlin started, but Jim cut him off there too.

"We've been through this before. We can handle him. Go look in your crystal ball and show up when you'll actually do some good, instead of just hurting everyone who depends on you."

Merlin's mouth set in a regretful line. But he took his staff and turned away.

The green light vanished. Douxie fell back to the ground.

---

He landed on his feet, which he rather hadn't expected.

Beyond Jim, beyond Excalibur, the dark mark of his master's Merlin's armor stalked back to the airship and swung up into it, nimbly for a man of his age. Merlin didn't look back. Douxie's gaze followed him as he walked to the rear of the ship, inserted his staff into the control port. The ship rose into the air and flew off into the distance, heading away from the dawn. He watched until it was a point of light no brighter than the fading stars.

Douxie blinked, and his master Merlin was gone.

He looked, and Jim was still there.

Slowly, not sure what to say, or even if his legs still worked right, Hisirdoux walked over to him. He could see, with his second sight, the glory limning Jim as surely as any spell he'd ever cast.

He stopped an arm's length away. "Divine kingship looks good on you," he finally said.

Jim smiled, a little bit shy, a little bit pleased. "It feels right," he said. "You're an idiot."

"Still not news," Douxie informed him. He sighed. "Jim...."

"Look," said the younger teen, "whatever 'old magic' is, whatever monsters it unleashes, we will deal with it." And whether it was Jim's sincerity, his track record, or the halo of his new status... somehow, Douxie believed him.

"Guess I'll need new business cards now," Douxie said. "Since I'm no longer Merlin's apprentice." The absence of that connection, he found, didn't bother him as much as it once might have. No longer the apprentice to Merlin Ambrosius, the greatest wizard in the world... but, instead, wizard to a new-minted divine king.

And something else, something infinitely more precious than status.

He could almost see Jim yearning to banter, to reply something about the (nonexistent) business cards. But he didn't. Instead, Jim asked "Are you all right?"

Douxie thought about it, searched the corners of his soul. There was a new shadow, the fear of what he might yet unleash, but that was all it was, a shadow. "I am," he said honestly. He put his arms on Jim's shoulders, touched their foreheads together. "Thank you."

A slight laugh. "You're welcome," Jim said, Excalibur vanishing, armor changing back into pajamas as he hugged back.

"Let's go home," Douxie said, and grinned. "Little brother."

Jim stared, then smiled even more brightly than the radiant wisps of kingship that were dissipating in the dawn's light. "Come on," he said. "You can teach me your mastery of pancakes."

"Sounds good." And as they walked off together, through the woods, back toward Arcadia Oaks and their home, something occurred to Douxie.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "we're going to have to arrange for you to meet Lady Nimue."

"What?" asked Jim.

Douxie grinned at him again. "Well, you're a divine king now, and she is your patron. It's only polite."

"The scary tentacle lady?" Jim asked.

"The scary tentacle lady," Douxie confirmed.

Jim blew out a breath. "Well... far be it from me to be rude to a goddess."