Chapter One;
It wasn't very often that Danny Fenton wanted a ghost to attack. In fact, it was next to never that he waited for his ghost sense to go off.
Today, however, was different.
Currently, Danny was slumped over a pile of books in the public library, praying that something, anything, exciting would happen. If that meant taking a few hits from a ghost, then so be it.
His history teacher, Ms. Bohr (aptly pronounced 'bore'), had assigned a huge project on personal history to be done over their brief Thanksgiving vacation. In other words, the students had to make a family tree along with a report on what you found that was interesting about your ancestry.
Summed up, it was the dullest thing that Danny could ever consider attempting to do over his vacation. Danny was trying to get most it done on the first couple days of said vacation, while Sam and Tucker were out of town visiting relatives for the holiday. Once he got this stupid project out of the way, he'd have more time to actually relax.
Why was he sitting in the library, though? Surely there were better ways to go about this, right?
Well, his parents were no help. Once he got his father talking about their family history, there was no way you would get him to stop. Which would've been a good thing except that his Dad never stayed on topic. He needed a report, not a family recipe on how to use blood-blossoms to murder ghosts. So yeah, no thank you.
His mother, while less rambly and distracted, often strayed from personal history to the history of paranormal researchers that she admired. That didn't help him, either.
Jazz was spending her vacation, at least until the day of Thanksgiving, touring the various universities that she'd been offered full scholarships to. With her tiny car packed full, she was glad to get away from the craziness of Amity Park, if only for a few days. Danny, of course, had promised to call if he needed her. Somehow, he didn't think 'help me with a history project' exactly qualified as needing her enough to warrant a phone call, even though he was tempted to do just that.
The teen was toying with the idea of turning to Clockwork for help; watching his ancestors through the Time-Viewers. He quickly dashed that plan. Firstly because he had to cite his sources and that would just end up being a disaster. Secondly, the Master of Time was always excessively busy, and Danny typically went to the Clock Tower because he enjoyed his ghostly guardian's company (when the old jerk wasn't beating on him with a staff because of his teenage stupidity, that is).
The biggest reason that he couldn't turn to Clockwork for help, however, was the crazy small things you do that can completely alter history. If you even kill a mosquito the past, then suddenly there's no cure for polio and the entire world is completely different.
…Yes, that happened. Was he proud of it? No, but it's not exactly like he thought slapping a bug would cause such discord. Clockwork was able to fix it anyway because, as always, he'd seen it coming. But because of the whole debacle (and perhaps a few others not as severe but still just as troubling for Clockwork), Danny was no longer able to use the Time-Viewers as a resource. So, it was good old-fashioned books for him. And he hated it.
Sighing, Danny shut the fifth book he'd opened. So far, he was able to trace his lineage from 1400s England to 1600s Salem and was now working his way through his family's migration along the Eastern seaboard. At least his father's side, anyway.
So long as he delved deep into one side of his family today, he could have the rest of vacation to work on his maternal family tree. He flipped through the pages of a journal from the late-1700s and/or early-1800s. Supposedly, his great-great-great-great-great- uncle had written it, but he needed proof in the form of a name. So far all it mentioned were locations, dates, and little adventures.
The man writing the journal as of yet only had a first name, Edward. From the entries, Danny concluded that he was a traveler of sorts. It seemed he sold wares on the road and bought things to trade elsewhere, where it would be more valuable.
It would have been cool if Danny hadn't been forced to look him up. Even cooler if Danny knew for a fact that they were related. Propping his head onto his hand, the teenager started reading a new page.
In Burgess's town, Pennsylvania for the cold season. A quiet place, however, very rarely is it dull. A good handful of children make much noise after daily lessons; they are all rather healthy considering the bitter snows that seems common in these parts.
Townsfolk are simple and kindred souls on the whole. The Overlands are my closest neighbors; they introduced themselves and offered their aid if I am ever to need it. They have a strapping young lad with good working hands; this is a good thing. I may offer him an apprenticeship when my time in Burgess's town draws to an end. He seems the type that would enjoy traveling.
My bones ache with the promise of age and, without a child of my own, I need to find someone to carry on my business after I pass on. I'll keep my eye on that boy.
Danny blew his bangs out of his face. Briefly he wondered if he should just put down this stupid book, but then something caught his eye;
The Overland boy was at it again today. This time tying bells round the necks of chickens and setting them loose on the streets. They were easy enough to get settled again, once baited with corn, but the bells still ring in my ears. ...Perhaps the idea of apprenticeship is not a good one.
Danny, surprised, snorted with laughter at the entry before being hushed by a nearby librarian. He cleared his throat but still had a huge grin on his face that he couldn't quite get ahold of. Now a good deal less bored (but quite distracted by his new research, call it productive procrastination if you will), he flipped through the pages of the journal, looking for a certain surname. Once Danny found it again he, with a new purpose, dove in reading.
Last night it stormed fiercely, and most places are buried in snow. I set out this morn to gather wood for the hearth, as it seems as though we shall suffer from the cold for a long while.
While doing so, I came across the Overland boy again. His forename is Jack, I discovered. He wasn't engaged in the same activity as myself, which I had first suspected. Instead, he was working with something akin to a wood shoe with blades on the bottom of them. A wooden platform, leather heel and straps, with an iron blade fastened to the plank. When I came across him, he was sharpening the blade.
It didn't seem a practical weapon and I inquired as to what he intended to use them for. The boy then explained to me an activity he calls 'skating'. Apparently, it was learned to him by nomads passing through from another place. From what I understand, the planks are attached to one's shoe and the blades are used to glide across thick ice.
I think that perhaps I should garner his assistance in making several pairs. I'll give the boy a few silvers for his work and find buyers who may want them in northern territory.
Not exactly the story he was looking for but still really cool. This kid was making his own ice skates?
Danny, now more curious, read through the journal with a quicker pace. Sometimes he would quietly chuckle, and other times he would outright snort with laughter (which was usually followed by a 'shh!' from the librarian).
The entries about Jack and his family got more numerous and it was blatant that Edward had gotten close to the family with his time in "Burgess' Town". Danny wondered if it was only because he was hoping to gain Jack as an apprentice.
When he was nearing the end of the journal (and drawing close to his curfew), the halfa decided that he wanted to learn more about this Jack Overland. After all, Jack Overland seemed like the better option than anything else. Not to mention the best excuse that Danny could give to his teacher for an incomplete project.
Danny was now completely disregarding the fact that he had a history project to finish, having been thoroughly engaged by a new subject of research. Instead, the teenager checked out several books, and other documents, that even briefly mentioned Jack Overland from the library (including the almost finished journal) before starting his way home.
After eating something small for dinner, Danny set to patrolling the streets of Amity from the sky, beating back a few ghosts as he did so. Rather uneventful, the most notable event of the night was the Box Ghost stirring up trouble at the dockside warehouse.
After taking care of that minor issue, only taking up three minutes if that, Danny had gone back to patrolling. Thankfully, there were only a few level one ghosts lurking in the alleys. The night was still young when Danny deemed the streets of Amity Park safe enough for him to go back home.
When he did return home, Danny was able to open a few of the books that he'd gotten earlier in the evening. Even though there hadn't been many ghosts out tonight, Danny still felt as though he'd been waiting for far too long to get back into his… well, procrastination, really.
It felt kinda lame to be excited about this, but to be fair this was the most that Danny had to look forward to from the past… almost what felt like forever really. There weren't any life-threatening ghosts, he wasn't running from the government or his parents, and it wasn't really school work.
Danny was just reading alone in a quiet room. And for a moment, he could kinda forget everything else and just focus on the Overlands' lives instead of his own.
On the topic of the Overlands, Jack Overland was not only interesting himself, but had a compelling family history. A great uncle of his, for example, was a travelling mercenary that had once saved an entire family from a band of thieves.
Danny decided that the best course of action was to first finish the old journal of Edward (still no last name mentioned; that wasn't good for his history report if he couldn't prove their relation), which he was now holding and flipping through to find the place where he left off.
He found another page mentioning the surname 'Overland' and stopped there, ignoring a lengthy paragraph about Edward's rambling on the cold weather.
I truly cannot tell whether I want that Overland boy as an apprentice or not.
Danny grinned in amusement. Even though Edward knew Jack's first name, he only ever used it when he was in a good mood. Whenever Jack was causing a ruckus, through good-natured hijinks, he was always referred to as 'the Overland boy'. Preparing himself for a mischievous surprise, Danny continued reading.
While he seems to know a good few things about woodwork and crafting, he seems too wild to use this gift properly. Today, in fact,
Oh, here we go!
he fashioned himself a sturdy pair of stilts. Not only did he not use them for the intended brush-clearing (which is quite needed, with snow weighing down the boughs of the trees), he instead uses them to shake the branches, causing the snow to fall atop the heads of waiting children. I will have to make this decision carefully; I refuse to take in a recalcitrant apprentice.
The Danny paused and wondered if Jack Overland himself had written any kind of journal. If it was published. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he'd love a firsthand account of the things he did.
I leave tomorrow.
Damn it all to hell.
Jack Overland is talented, resourceful, as well as creative. But it is plain to see that he has no passion nor interest to be my apprentice.
The child is wild. Too much so, just like the snow storms that wreak havoc here. Sometimes I honestly wonder if the old stories are true and the boy is some sort of changeling.
Danny snorted, which was rather hypocritical for a half-ghost.
Today I say my farewells to the Overland Family. Something eats at me as I prepare my horses for travel, if only in the back of my mind. This will more likely than not be the last time I see them. Though, perhaps, I may seek to return. I have gotten close to them, after all. There can be no way that I know for certain.
Wait- no, no, no. No, no. Danny scanned through the journal. Once for any mention of Edward's last name and second for anything else that mention about the Overlands.
Unfortunately, Danny had no such luck.
Danny, figuring that he was already neck deep in this productive procrastination, then picked up another Journal. This time by the Mayor of Burgess, a man named Thaddeus Burgess (no surprise here).
Danny did a quick Wikipedia search and according to it, the man was daring, and was 'the first' to brave the winters and build a cabin there, (Danny was pretty sure that the Native Americans were the one to first figure out, but unfortunately such was history.)
Danny flipped back to the copy of the journal and raised his brows as his suspicions were proven true.
Thaddeus, as it was written in the journals, came in the fall when he was a young man. The Natives or the Iroquois tribe warned him of the harsh winters, and told him and his family what to do to prepare.
Danny also soon discovered that the Natives and Thaddeus's settlement went along really well. The natives permitted Thaddeus to live with them in return for trade and help in the fields and to respect sacred lands. Longhouses and cabins were more often than not side to side. A rare exception to the usual bloodshed at first sight. There was also a phenomenal lack of disease from what Danny could see.
Thaddeus seemed exceptionally respectful of the Indigenous people and their customs; in his journal he only ever mentioned them in a good light. More often than not, it was clear that Thaddeus admired their ability to live off the land, even in the cold that plagued the area.
Danny, himself, was rather impressed with the heaps of research, diagrams of plants, animal hides and more came with the journal. It was also multi-lingual too. There was Latin, Greek, mostly Norwegian, Iroquois and hardly any English.
Danny frowned, why was there almost no English? And why the heck was it this mixture of languages? The only language that made sense was Iroquois, the Native language that Thaddeus had learned to save himself and his family from dying during the cold winter.
Danny then paused, Sam was a huge history buff and was always spewing facts as much as Danny himself ranted about space. He recalled her saying something about how English was once considered to be a barbaric language spoken mostly only in bars and in the wrong side of the streets. And that the more upper-class people used what was considered to be more 'sophisticated' languages. Greek, and Latin.
Well, alright. Now that Danny thought of it, Greek and Latin did make a lot more sense. Thaddeus must've been a part of some upper class before he'd come to America.
But for the love of all that's holy why Norwegian?
Danny scanned through the pages.
Jeg savner Norge, ingenting er det samme her.
Danny paused. "...Google translate it is then," He muttered under his breath.
Danny grabbed his phone that rested on top of his nightstand by his bed and found the translation.
I miss Norway, nothing is the same here.
Danny blinked, "Well. That explains it."
Alright, now that all of this was pulled aside, and he had a bit more background, Danny decided to try and find more information about the Overlands, or more specifically, Jack Overland.
Danny placed the phone next to him on his bed, he had a feeling that he was going to need it.
Much to Danny's amusement, Thaddeus had a lot to say about the Overland family once they came to live in the town the natives shared with them.
The Overland family turned out to also be from Norway. Or at the very least, Jack's father was. The journal didn't disclose the reason Mr. Overland came to America (or how), but Thaddeus and Jon Overland (Jack's dad) got along very well, despite the obvious social class difference between them.
So, did their wives, apparently. Mrs. Overland or Esther Overland were well-met friends too, despite the fact that Johanna Burgess was from Norway and Esther Overland was from England.
The real juicy stuff came from the fact that their children didn't get along at all. The Overland children, Jack and his sister Flee, and the Burgess' boy, Torstein, were consistently at odds, so Danny had come to see.
In a lot of Thaddeus' records, both Jack and Torstein always returned with bruises. Flee, also partaking in this feud, seemed to have the sharpest of insults towards Torstein. Thaddeus always suspected that quick tongue of hers was the reason behind majority of the fights.
Flee's insults became what Danny lived for. Just as much as Danny loved Jack's pranks.
By far one of the best insults by far was when Flee, looked at Torstein in the eye in front of Thaddeus and said;
Torstein, you are like a swan. Elegant, graceful. Gliding across the water as if nothing else is its equal. But underneath the water's surface you have these big, ugly, black flippers. Clumsily paddling their way. And in one-point Torstein, you'll have to come out of the water for everyone to see. Or face the consequences and drown.
At that point Danny just had to put the Journal down for the epic burn that he was centuries late for and realize that he'd never be that witty. If anyone had seen him, Danny would have a hard time explaining why he was whooping, fist-pumping the air with a huge grin on his face.
Meanwhile Jack's pranks also took a dark turn whenever it came to Torstein. More acrimonious and less amiable. Or at least, Thaddeus seemed sure that it was Jack Overland, but never really had the proof.
From what Thaddeus written, Torstein had his own advantages. But from the sound of it, Torstein's actions were more pure brutality and shocking violence than anything else.
Yeah, Jack Overland did pull a few pranks that were definitely not ok, but Torstein seemed to be like the kind of guy to bring a knife to a fist fight. Danny was able to see this, despite how much Thaddeus tried to paint it otherwise with his journal.
The journal didn't go too deep on what Flee, Jack and Torstein did in there spare time together. Mainly because Thaddeus didn't seem to really be sure of what it was himself. As much as he seemed to love Esther and Jon, he seemed to have a deep disdain for the Overland kids.
All of that changed though when later, when Thaddeus saw Flee save Torstein from being stomped to death by his own horse.
From what Danny read, Flee was incredibly fast. Thaddeus written repeatedly that some people believed that she could outrun the wind itself, and apparently, Thaddeus believed it.
This speed was what saved Torstein from almost certain death. Thaddeus before the incident seemed to disprove of Flee's speed. Often saying in Norwegian that;
No woman should be that fast. There cannot be a holy god that would bless a girl with that kind of swiftness.
Danny concluded that Thaddeus was sexist. Like most men of the time.
But after that event, Thaddeus seemed to grow a warm approval of Flee, not that she seemed to ever have a need for it in the first place. Danny hoped that this approval made things easier, even if by a little, in regard to Torstein, but that didn't seem to be the case as he read further.
Thaddeus's feelings never seemed to differ when it came to Jack Overland, always displeased with him and his bruises.
Thaddeus did though have a grudging respect with how much Jack loved his sister, and that Jack would do anything for her. Thaddeus had a strong suspicion that Jack would even die for his sister if necessary. And when asked, Jack Overland would always race Flee, even though he would lose each and every time.
Danny then looked on the time on his phone and groaned, it was past midnight.
And yeah, there was no school. But there was always ghost fights. Vlad being gone only made the number of attacks less personal.
Hesitantly, Danny put the book down on his nightstand. Danny had the strong suspicion that it was going to be like this for a while.
. . .
Unfortunately, Danny was right.
He has not slept properly for days. Which was nothing new to be honest, but instead of school work it was Danny's 'productive procrastination'.
But if Danny was getting graded for this, He can comfortably say that he would earn a A+. Just like he would with video games and astronomy.
Night after night after night, Danny read journal after journal. Danny now retained a staggering knowledge about the Overlands.
One of the things Danny learned was that it was now called Burgess for a reason and that the Native name it was called was long forgotten. And if Danny wasn't sure if Torstein was a jerk before, he knew for certain now.
After his father died, Torstein stole the land from the natives and broke the treaty his father held with the chief and named the settlement after himself, claiming that 'god willed it' and that this is what his 'father's dying wish'.
However, Danny was 100% sure that it really had to do with the rumor that there was gold in the Iroquois sacred lands. (There wasn't any, but that didn't matter after the fact; as they had already 'claimed' the land.)
Danny was too busy fuming for hours to read any more after that. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he may or may not have taken his frustration out on Skulker, who had shown up while he'd been out flying to cool off.
These kind of documents, strangely, didn't say anything about Jack Overland. But Torstein proposed to Flee many times, only for her deny his proposal over and over again and, eventually, she married someone else.
The journals at this time period say that Flee didn't run like the wind anymore and, no matter who wrote it, they would say that it was her way of grieving.
Danny felt something in him fill with unease, but he pushed it to the side.
Many people found Jack Overland strange. That it was 'strange' how he never seemed to take a fancy to any girl, or the way he would look boys his age a bit too long than what was considered normal.
But oddly enough, they seemed to dismiss this faint suspicion when they saw how well he was with children. Usually concluding Jack Overland couldn't be that way if he could work so well with the younger ones.
Now at this, Danny snorted. The stereotypes they had during that time period were the most off-the-rail he'd ever heard.
Many of the children at Jack's time when they grew up had mostly fond memories of the shenanigans Jack Overland brought with him. The quiet words of encouragement, and his stories that the once children always described as raw and enduring.
The unsettling feeling deepened in Danny's stomach.
Then Danny finally found it, a firsthand account of the Overland's life.
Flee's journal. Or, an exact copy.
The first few pages where rough letters of the alphabet. And what looked like her practicing over and over again. There were scribbles of failures and what looked like tear drops of frustration.
After a dozen or more pages in, the letters became words. Almost all of them misspelled at first but then steadily she became better.
From reading Flee's journal, Danny found that it was Jack Overland himself that was teaching her. Always telling her that it had to be their secret.
Danny already knew why without further explanation; more likely than not it was illegal for Jack to teach Flee how to read and write. If not, then Flee would've been shunned from the community, along with Jack Overland as well at some point or on some level.
Flee wrote that Jack always brought the journal with him so that people would assume it was his, (Flee only agreed to this after Jack Overland promised not to read it).
Danny also discovered that Jack only agreed to teach her because she asked.
Reading her journals, Danny learned a lot about Jack. That he loved puzzles and riddles, that he started the races, that he was fast but taught her to be faster, and that he would climb to the top of the tallest trees only for a glimpse of the world up high.
Once she was a few years older, Jack Overland let Flee hide the journal herself. Jack claimed to the locals that she liked to pretend, and that it was easier to have someone else hold it. That for Jack's lessons, The family could only afford one notebook and he gave it to her.
Was Danny impressed? Definitely. Most people at the time wouldn't give up things like notebooks and pens. Only the wealthy had them and the only way Danny could guess on how the Overlands could give Jack the notebook was if they asked Thaddeus before he died while they were good friends.
Notebooks for anyone who couldn't write were worthless though. Which made sense on why Jack would make a show of it instead of just simply not letting anyone know. Or perhaps his parents already made a spectacle of it so Jack and Flee made-do.
Danny also figured that the town knew enough of Jack Overland's pranks to decide that it was not worth looking into.
Danny continued reading. It was well past midnight when Danny found a passage that made him stop in his tracks. The ink here was smudged, as if written in hasty movements and with shaky hands. Once more, there were dark water splotches that littered the page, and they looked so heavy and seemed to weigh down the page in more ways than one.
It was my fault. It's my fault that my brother drowned in the lake. Jack's dead. And he can't move on. Not while he's not buried.
Several pages were blank after that. Danny flipped almost frantically only to find nothing.
Danny put the book down and sat back on his knees, a frown on his face. He could feel his chest tightening… was this the way Jazz felt when she read? God, why would anyone subject themselves to this?
He felt stupid as he scrubbed at his moist eyes. This happened hundreds of years ago. He knew that they would be dead. In one way, or another. But the way Flee wrote it was enough to put him on the edge.
After a long pause, he allowed his transformation rings to pass over him and he drifted outside into the open air. As he felt the wind against his face, Danny felt his thoughts wander to the boy that drowned in the lake. Jack Overland.
Danny didn't tend to linger on one train of thought for too long, something he'd inherited from his father no doubt, but for some reason he couldn't let his mind stray too far from that boy. His mind then wandered back to Flee's last words in the journal.
Did Jack have a ghost? The intrusive thought wormed its way into his mind. It was plausible, all things considered. Jack Overland wasn't the first to die young and he wouldn't be the last either. Ember, Kitty, Johnny Thirteen, Youngblood, even himself (sort of) all served as examples of that.
If Jack Overland was a ghost, he likely wouldn't stray too far from where he died. Danny hadn't heard that Burgess was a rift site (rift site being where natural ghost portals formed commonly), so he probably wouldn't be in the Ghost Zone. Though he could be wrong.
Theoretically, if he was going to go looking for Jack's ghost, which was strange for Danny to consider, what with all the ghosts that usually found him first, he should start in Burgess, Pennsylvania.
If he didn't find him there, maybe he could ask around the Ghost Zone. Johnny owed him a favor, anyway, and he was sure that the other ghost could name a few connections to get in touch with.
…Was he seriously considering this just from reading journals? Danny rubbed his temples and concluded that not only was he considering it, he was planning on it.
As Danny started his flight home, he came to the realization that he was never going to get this project done. But then again, finding Jack Overland's ghost seemed like the better alternative than ghost fighting or the stupid history project.
Besides, he could probably just fudge a good deal of it anyway. With how crazy his current family was, nobody in Amity Park would doubt anything that he put down on paper.
He'd leave in the morning, leave a note telling his parents he was going to go back to the library for his history project, and go to Burgess. Just for a look around.
Danny finally made it back home and got under the covers, going over everything in his head, as if trying to make some sense of it all. Should he bring the journal with him, to show Jack how he was able to find him? Probably a good idea. Was Jack even a ghost? Well, there was only one way to find out.
And if not, Danny knew where Flee was buried, and had an idea on where Jack was. At the very least he could pay his respects and lay down a few flowers.
With that sleepy thought in mind, Danny turned over and promptly fell asleep
