This is a squeal to my first story, A New Becoming. I personally don't think it's necessary to read that to understand what's going on here, but I do reference the events of that story a fair bit, so it might be in your best interest to go check that one out first. It's your choice.

Enjoy, NoS

They really needed to clean this place out. Jim straightened up again, turning away from another box. Yet again, it wasn't what he was looking for. He'd hoped he'd be able to find the old scrapbooks and home videos his mom had been telling him about from when she was younger, so he could digitize them for her birthday. He was going to restore the originals and move them to a safer location, too, but the digitizing was necessary if she was going to want to actually watch the videos in the future.

Jim opened another box and began scanning the contents. He had moved further and further back through the boxes stored in the attic all day but hadn't found anything yet. At least he could see pretty well with his… unusual eyes. He didn't even need to light them up to see in the dim light. Jim squinted into the box. What was that? So maybe he should get some more light. It was an odd lumpy shape, but looked firm, like a rock rather than a bundle of cloth or something else he had expected to find in these boxes.

Jim reached forward, carefully picking up the object. He was right, judging by the roughness and hardness, as well as how cold it was, it was some type of rock. Unfortunately, that didn't actually tell him much. After spending so much time with Toby and trolls, Jim had learned how important it was to know what kind of rock he was dealing with. But this was just some random rock in his mom's stuff, he doubted it was actually important. Maybe she'd done some rock collecting when she was younger?

Jim shook his head and kept searching, not putting the rock down. He couldn't see much in the box. Jim frowned, he'd been able to see pretty well up until now… he glanced back. The opening down into the hallway was farther away than he'd realized and a stack of boxes he'd already gone through was blocking the light now. At least he knew it was something normal, not, ya know, troll related.

Jim sighed, giving up on trying to see without help. Jim glanced back over his shoulder, listening to his mom putting about downstairs, cleaning something while she had time. Deciding he'd rather not risk her seeing anything, Jim pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on the flashlight.

Jim smiled to himself as the light made it much easier to identify the odd shapes and lumps that had been the box's contents. Still holding onto the rock, Jim began sifting through the items.

Another frown crossed Jim's face. Nothing in the box looked quite right. There were a few small knives and other stones in the box, as well as old pieces of cloth and leather that looked both well-worn and well cared for. Or they had been well cared for. They hadn't been looked at in years and some of the cloth items had holes now. The real problem was that all of it looked far too old to belong here. His mom didn't really have any family heirlooms, so that wasn't an option, and he was fairly sure she'd have shown him, or at least mentioned them, if they had had any. This box didn't belong here.

Jim froze. If he'd thought this didn't belong in his attic before, it really didn't belong there now. Jim picked up the old leather-bound journal with Trollish markings on it. There weren't many, and if Jim had to guess, it was probably only the barest of identifying markers. It certainly wasn't a title, there were only a couple of letters and they didn't make a word, they didn't even have any vowels.

Jim glanced down at the rock he was holding. Now, it seemed a lot more important to know what it was. The stone was about the size of a pebble and looked like it had been abandoned part way through being cut. One side was clear and a bright reddish orange, while the other was trapped in rough, gray stone. Jim looked closely. He wasn't sure, but he thought it looked like a type of Andesine Feldspar that had… interesting effects on trolls and changelings, but only when properly cut. This one was incomplete, but definitely showed trollish design and influence to the cuts. Jim carefully pocketed it and turned his attention back to the journal.

The journal was all hand written, but Jim quickly found that while he could identify individual letters and somethings that looked similar to words Jim knew, he couldn't actually read it. Jim picked up the journal, promising himself he would take it to Strickler and Nomura later, and looked back over the rest of the box. Nothing else looked overtly dangerous. He wasn't going to just leave it there, but he couldn't move it right now. Not with his mom in the house.

Jim turned off his flash light and put his phone back in his pocket. He'd go back to look for his mom's old things later. Right now, he had more important things to deal with. Jim moved smoothly down the stairs into the main house, continuing to the main floor from there.

"Oh, Jim!" Barbara said when she noticed her son. "What have you been up to?"

Jim stopped. He'd hoped to leave before his mom saw him, but he could stop to talk. "Not much," he said. "I was just about… to… what is it, Mom?"

Barbara was looking at the journal Jim was holding at his side. "Where did you find that?"

"Um… up in the attic. Do you know what it is?"

She nodded absently. "That- That was your father's. I thought I'd gotten rid of all his old stuff. I guess I didn't."

"It was Dad's? Do you… do you know what it says?"

Barbara shook her head sadly, still not taking her eyes off the old book. "He always said he'd teach me to read it someday. Clearly that didn't happen."

Jim nodded slowly, not sure what to say to that. "I- I'll just be going, now. I'll be back for dinner."

"Alright," Barbara said quietly. "I'll see you then."

Jim grabbed his bag, placing the journal in it, and quickly slipped out the door, burying the guilt he felt at leaving his mom to wallow in whatever memories he'd just dragged up. At least now he knew what it was doing in his house, but now he needed to know what his dad was doing with it.

Jim shot off a text letting the pair of changelings know he was on his way and needed their expertise before he hopped on his Vespa and began driving over to their shared apartment. He felt his phone buzz a few times while he drove but restrained himself from looking at the texts until he arrived. As soon as he was off the moped, he checked the messages. Nomura seemed excited and interested while Strickler had asked if it was really all that urgent. Nomura had responded by telling Jim to ignore the "grumpy bastard." Jim wasn't sure why Strickler was acting like that. Sure, he did put on a self-important air, but he was usually also pretty open, so why was he- Oh, right. Finals were coming up and he had a lot of work to do to prepare and make sure his students were prepared. Jim just shrugged and continued on his way. He only really needed one of them anyway.

Jim climbed the familiar fire escape, running his hand over some odd dents that only he knew the origin of as he went. Jim went through the motion of opening the window and sliding through into the living room without much thought, quickly greeting Nomura when he saw her, closing the window behind him.

"Do you ever use the door?" she asked him, smiling lightly.

Jim shrugged. "You guys are the ones that told us not to be seen if we're visiting you," he said.

Nomura laughed. "So, what've you got for us, Little Gynt?"

Jim reached into his bag and held out the journal. "I found this in the attic, among other things."

Nomura took it and raised an eyebrow when she saw the cover. She glanced at Jim once before she began flipping through the pages. She paced for a moment as she read, before freezing in her tracks, back to Jim. Her body went rigid and she flipped much more rapidly. Suddenly, she snapped the book shut and whirled back to Jim. "Do you know what this says?" she asked, gesturing at him with the journal.

"No," Jim said, shaking his head and raising his hands slightly as he tried to placate her. "That's why I brought it here. I can't read it."

"Right," Nomura said, relaxing slightly. "Of course not." She was silent for a moment before continuing. "Wait here, I'm going to go get Stricklander. He needs to see this."

Jim blinked for a moment after Nomura had left, then moved to settle down and wait in one of the chairs as he heard a door open and close again. Jim fidgeted and forced himself to stay where he was. He wanted badly to go listen at the door, but he knew he'd get caught and neither changeling would be happy with him for eavesdropping. Nomura in particular since she had told him to stay put.

Jim jumped as a yell shattered the silence. That was Strickler. Whatever Nomura had to say, he hadn't liked it. Jim fidgeted more, before rising and pacing the length of the room. He couldn't sit still. He had to move and do something, but he couldn't go to them. He wanted desperately to know what was going on, and his eyes were regularly drawn to the hallway.

Finally, Strickler and Nomura came back out. They were trying to look calm, but Jim could tell Strickler at the very least was angry and Nomura looked a little rattled by whatever he'd said while they talked in his office.

"Ms. Nomura told me you don't know what this says," he started, leaving a gap for Jim to confirm or deny.

Jim nodded hastily. Formality was never a good sign with Strickler.

"And you don't know who wrote it?"

Jim shook his head much more slowly. "My mom… said it was my dad's…"

Strickler nodded slightly. "It was. Do you understand what I'm saying?" He spoke slowly, making careful eye contact, trying to make sure that Jim truly did understand.

Jim frowned. He honestly didn't know what Strickler was trying to say. How would he have known it was Jim's dad's? Jim hadn't mentioned that to either of them. Jim's eyes went wide as he finally understood. It was his dad's. Not in the sense of him finding it or holding it for a friend or it being some kind of heirloom or anything like that. He wrote it. It was his. Jim nodded.

"What-," Jim swallowed nervously. "What does it say?" He didn't think he really wanted to know, but he needed to.

Strickler carefully lead the shell-shocked boy to the chair Jim had sat in earlier and got him to sit down before sitting across from him. Nomura took a spot between the two.

"This is a journal," Strickler began slowly, "and it was written by a changeling in a form of code that is rather common among us. I'm sure you already grasped that much." Jim nodded, coming back to himself. "And, as you now know, that changeling was your father, explaining your unique biology. It- It describes you as you grew up in… detail, often focusing on various things that could be seen as either a decidedly changeling trait or not. It technically starts just before your conception, stating his desire to have a child and why." Strickler paused observing Jim. "He… He viewed your life as an experiment, to see if changelings could have children with humans and…" Strickler sighed, trying to find a delicate way to say this and failing, "and to see if those children would be… useful to the Janus Order. He concluded, incorrectly, that because you were conceived from his human form, you had not inherited any of the qualities he'd been hoping for and that you would be too weak to use."

Jim was glaring at the journal, which Strickler had placed on the coffee table. "So he… he just thought of me as an experiment," he hissed. "Mom was just… a means to an end. He strung her along for years, told her he loved her, had me, and then just left because I wasn't enough for him!"

"That is what it looks like," Nomura said gently.

"Good riddance," Jim spat, a slight growl entering his voice. "I'm glad he left. A bastard like him doesn't deserve a family."

"Jim."

Jim's head jerked up. Strickler was giving him a flat look. He wasn't judging. But there was something… Jim felt a slight burn in his eyes that could have been tears or glow, and his jaw ached slightly. Jim cautiously poked at his teeth with his tongue and winced when he felt how long and sharp his lower canines had become. He closed his eyes and took a breath to try and calm himself down and get control over the transformation. When he opened his eyes the burning had lessened, but not gone away.

Nomura rose and moved to stand next to Jim, placing a hand on his shoulder. "He isn't important. You are. Where you came from isn't all that important compared to what you've done."

Strickler nodded. "Quite. If it's any consolation, I'm fairly certain he's dead."

"It isn't," Jim answered as he went back to glaring at the journal in front of him, ignoring the tears that were starting to fall. "But how do you know who he was?"

"He didn't exactly sign it, but he might as well have," Strickler said with a shrug. "He is known among the upper ranks of the Janus Order and always marks his journals and reports the same way. A specific series of letters followed by a set of numbers that changed by report. I've had the fortune to read several of his journals that made their way back to the Order. He died attempting to retrieve a bridge piece from a criminal organization whose Godfather had grown rather attached to it."

Jim nodded, not looking up. "So he's gone."

"Yes."

Silence pressed down on them, filling the room as Jim processed the new information. Finally, Nomura sighed and pressed on. "Did you find anything else? Given he was careless enough to leave this behind, there might have been other things."

Jim nodded and brushed away the tears, pushing himself into a more professional expression. "Yeah. He left an entire box of stuff. Most of it is just old knives and clothes." Jim stopped for a second as he pulled the stone from his pocket. "The only interesting things were the journal and this." He held it out for Strickler and Nomura to see.

Nomura grabbed it before Strickler could, examining it. "Andesine?" she muttered before passing it over to Strickler.

Strickler hummed and examined it himself. "He seemed to be getting desperate near the end. He may have been planning to test you with this in a last-ditch effort but left before he could."

Jim paled slightly. Andesine made trolls, and changelings, feel like they were being burned alive. "Would that have done anything?"

Stickler shrugged. "We might know how this affects you now, but we don't know why you showed no signs of your heritage until later or how it affected your development. It is impossible to say how this would have affected you then."

Jim sighed. "Alright then, what do we do now?"

"That's up to you, Little Gynt," Nomura answered.

Strickler nodded in agreement, passing the partially cut stone back to Jim. "While it was obvious that you needed training when you first came to us, as well as support from your friends, this revelation changes very little. What you do with the information is your business."

Jim picked up the journal, staring at it. He sighed and nodded. "I need to think about it," he said. "For now, I should probably get rid of the rest of his stuff." Jim placed the small book in his bag and stopped to check his reflection in the mirror. He looked normal. "I'll see you around," he said as he slipped back out the window and began his journey home. He wasn't sure what to do with this, but for now, he would keep it to himself.