Um...Yeah. ^^; No excuse...but updating!

Disclaimer: Butch Hartman owns Danny Phantom....



Hills village, Dusk

The little girl he had given all of his bread to tugged at his pant leg, smiling innocently. She pointed to the door on the opposite end of the barn. Distressed, confused, and still hungry, Lancer shook his head, "I'm not going to follow you around anymore—no." Lancer interjected, noticing as tears began to well up in her big eyes. "I'm sorry, but I really can't. I have so much to sort out, my student was just carted off by a ghost in disguise, I'm in the Middle Ages, and I'm ravenous. Now is not the time to go adventuring."

Apparently the little girl didn't understand, fat droplets of water were now spilling over her hollow cheeks. Lancer, baffled and having no idea what to do with this, simply continued to shake his head.

She cried harder, and Lancer was sure the noise was going to bring far too much unwanted attention. Deciding that it was better to entertain her needs then attract random servants while thinking out subjects he had no idea how to think out, Lancer agreed to go with her.

With a grin, all signs of a tantrum melting from her face, she hopped up and trotted to the end of the barn, tugging a reluctant teacher behind.

Wherever I'm going, Lancer thought, I'm going to find out a way to retrieve Daniel…and then we're going to get as far away from this place as we possibly can.


Lancer followed into the dank stairway, uneasy as he crept down to a room underground. He'd seen the little girl disappear into the door cracked open at the bottom, but for some reason that gave him absolutely no comfort.

Now as he stepped inside and gave his eyes a moment to adjust, Lancer was deeply regretting his decision to follow her. He shouldn't have cared about a toddler's tears when his student, his responsibility, had been kidnapped by a known evil (and highly dangerous) ghost.

Slam!

The one candle in the room Lancer had been adjusting his sights to blew out.

"What do you see?" Asked a voice from feet in front of him.

Pupils widened in a mixture of fear and the need for light, he was speechless. "What do you see?" The voice persisted.

"I—I see nothing!" Lancer answered hastily. Stumbling backward to find the doorknob.

"But you have seen." Hissed another voice behind him, "You have indeed seen…the demons."

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Lancer stuttered, shakily jumping away from the second speaker. Bumbling into a wall, he pressed himself up against it, quivering. There was silence.

A light burst into existence and set a small oil lamp. Blinking, Lancer looked around to find silhouettes of at least ten...twenty people. "You are an adult." The first speaker, a kid about fifteen, stated simply, cocking his head to the side.

"I—I am," Lancer glanced around, taking note that every other body in the room was a child.

"He hasn't seen anything," A boy, about ten, burst out. "He said so—we heard him. He said he didn't know what we meant." A group of smaller kids nodded in agreement.

Lancer frowned, his teacher instincts taking control. "You shoved me into a cellar, blew out the light, and interrogated me. How am I to react? By answering calmly? Or saying the first thing that popped into my mind?" He breathed out a sigh, looking back at the eldest of the group, speaker number one. "I don't even remember what you said, to be honest."

"Have you seen the demon?" Speaker number two asked, stepping around from behind Lancer, glaring through the young innocent features still on her face.

Lancer bit his lip, "You—wait, the Frightknight? He's not a demon—um, he's a...a ghost..." Lancer trailed off as the eyes of every child he could see widened. "What?"

"You know its name." The eldest boy muttered fearfully. "You—you must be its master!"

"Master?" Lancer snorted, the children edging away from him. "No, I can't control ghosts."

"Someone who knows the true name of a demon controls it," The girl whispered, pressing herself against the door.

"Seasons of Valor, no!" Lancer replied. "They prefer to shout their names to the high heavens! Well, most of them, anyway."

"Who are you to know so much of demons if you are not some sort of demonic high priest?" The first speaker asked, stepping forward defensively. A crowed of young ones ranging from four to twelve scampered behind him, leaving the second-speaker-girl and the five-year-old that led him here with Lancer on one side of the room.

Lancer lifted his arms in defeat, "I'm not a priest. I just—I come from a town with a lot of experience in this area."

The five-year-old on his side stepped next to him, taking hold of Mr. Lancer's pant leg.

She looked up to the oldest boy's eyes, clearly pleading. "Penny..." The boy sighed, turning around to face the group of children. "Penny was the first one to start seeing these things, and she's the one who found most of you and brought you here. I think that if she thinks this man is safe, then I agree with her."

"You only want your little sister to start talking again!" A nameless voice accused. "So you're going to do anything she wants you to!"

"Aaron," The girl still pressed to the door said, "They've got a point. No other adults can see them, why would it suddenly start now?"

The eldest boy, Aaron, stared at Lancer. "You saw it, though, right? What did it look like?"

"Knight type guy with fiery purple whatever that glows and rode a mare with black wings?" Lancer shrugged, "I saw it carry my student away. Which is why I shouldn't be here, I need to help him."

"Your student?" Aaron repeated.

Lancer nodded, "He's about your age and the, uh, Frightknight has probably seen him before. If the ghost recognized Daniel then I fear—"

"Daniel?" The boy interrupted. "Brook, isn't that the name of the kid it talked about?"

The girl pressed to the door nodded, relaxing. "They said 'Daniel' a few times, and that they were looking for him."

"Why would they be looking for Danny?" Lancer asked, frowning. "He shouldn't even know we're here—I don't even know if this is the same Frightknight I do know which would mean he wouldn't know Danny." Lancer glowered, muttering to himself. "I think I may have gotten carried away with that sentence..."

Aaron shook his head. "So, it took your student," he addressed the crowd of children once more. "He is on our side. He will help us." There were jovial shouts from a number of them, and three at the age of about six or seven broke forward to clamber around Lancer in a sort-of 'victory dance'.

Lancer grinned, baffled by their suddenly trusting behavior. "Help with what, dare I ask?"

Aaron smiled confidently, "Help us get rid of the scum that has killed our count and gotten rid of our most chivalrous knights, and then destroy the demons that have cast our lives in misery!" The children cheered in the light of their leader, shrieking in abundant joy.

Brook giggled behind him, whispering for Lancer's ears only. "He's a noble." Her eyes brimmed with admiration. "A real noble come to help us."

"A noble?" Lancer questioned, studying the boy try to calm the crowd in the cellars dim light.

"Yeah," Brook sighed, "Or, that's what we call him."

"Why?" Lancer was remembering various movies in which nobles treated peasants horribly.

Brook smiled, "Because nobles are the best—they have everything. Confidence, poise, money, and they're born leaders." She giggled. "We always joke that he was supposed to be born in the castle but the angel bringing his life to the word accidentally placed him in a peasant woman who used her dowry so she could dress like a noble on her wedding day."

"Interesting," Lancer mumbled, holding back a laugh.

Aaron disentangled himself from a flock of kids, making his way to Lancer. "So, how about it? Will you help us?"

"I don't know how I can," Lancer said. "The only person who knows enough about defeating ghosts was Danny, his parents were hunters."

"So we need to rescue your student?" With those loudly pronounced words, all the kids hushed, readily awaiting words from their leader. Aaron faced the crowd. "Listen, everyone. We need a meeting, you got that? We need to hold a meeting, we need to get everyone here—every single one of the rebellion. Tell them to bring their weapons, shirts, and a snack."

Aaron straightened, "We're going to break into the castle."


Nowhere

Danny blinked, hoping the pure white that filled every corner of his vision was simply a temporary blur, and his eyes would adjust. Actual images from the real world were bound to come up.

The disembodied voice giggled, "Your sight does not lie."

Danny stumbled to his feet, "Shut up…" he mumbled, looking at the ground where no shadow was cast. "How do I know I'm standing if I can't discern the floor from the walls?"

"What walls?" It inquired. "You are standing on Nothing."

"Right," Danny rolled his eyes. "Okay, no-one, if I'm…'nowhere' I'm currently out of it, correct? Is it possible for you to answer what happened?"

"Simple," Noone sneered, "You have been captured, and will remain so until your predator requires you."

Danny cringed, rubbing his forehead, "Yeah, I remember someone knocking me out…" He groaned. "After a long day of manual labor with barely a scrap of food to keep me going, someone decides to shock me!" Danny scowled, "I don't know if you have any clue who did that, do you?"

"It was certainly not Noone…but it is humorous."

Danny shook his head sourly, "Look, bodiless-voice-that-has-nothing-better-to-do-but-mess-with-me, this isn't what I was sent here to do. I—I have a mission to complete and—"

The voice cackled, "Ha! You were sent here to do exactly what happened to you!"

"What are you talking about?" Danny snorted, "You don't know why I'm here—you don't even know where I am!"

"Quite the contrary," Noone breathed, "I am aware of your quest. And I know you are where you are supposed to be."

"I'm not supposed to be captured!" Danny argued. "I need to be stopping my somehow still existing future alternate reality evil self!"

"He's a mouthful." Noone commented dryly. "But, no, your reason for being here was so that said creature could capture you in order to preserve his own existence." Noone laughed, "You were tricked."

"Was not!" Danny shouted, glaring. "I wasn't tricked—Clockwork sent me!"

There was silence, and Danny grinned in victory. Clockwork was his trump card.

Slowly, the white surroundings darkened in one place, or perhaps it was getting brighter and outshining everything else in the room, making its white background seem like it'd gone down a shade. Either way, the changes in lighting knitted themselves together in order to form a sparkling humanoid silhouette.

The glowing form inched closer, cocking its head to the side. "Clockwork?" Noone asked in a quiet voice.

Danny licked his lips, bobbing his head in silent affirmation.

The creature of light tottered from step to step, surveying Danny with no eyes. "You trust…Clockwork?"

"Yes." Danny answered without hesitation. "I trust Clockwork with my life."

"Then you are a fool." Noone put a lax hand on its glowing hip, chuckling. "D-a-n-n-y, Danny! Have you not learned never to trust a being of considerable power? You put your faith in someone who will stop at nothing to keep his time line safe." Noone snorted, "You are indeed an ignorant fool."

"At least I'm someone!" Danny growled, "Clockwork wouldn't do anything to hurt me!"

Noone straightened, and Danny had to blink the momentary stars out of his pupils from staring at the impossible human outline. "Impossible child," Noone sympathized, "What would he try to save first? You, or the fate of universal stability?"

"But—I'm here to correct the time line." Danny stuttered, bringing up a hand to smooth knots that formed within his neck.

"Yes." Noone agreed, "You will be the unfortunate bait that keeps this universe from dissolving, D-a-n-n-y, Danny." It sighed, "Think, why did Clockwork send you?"

"Because I'm the only one who can stop—"

Noone gesticulated in a dismissive wave. "No. If he wanted that thing stopped he'd send someone else—a ghost with power. You? Your 'other self' knows not only your so-called 'moves', but he knows your weaknesses, your hopes, your fears, your dreams. Why would Clockwork send you? Your enemy already has a checkmate over you. He could stop it himself, could he not?"

"The medallions." Danny said simply, "He can't touch Dan because of the medallions."

Noone barked out a laugh, "Those medallions are of Clockworks own make! He very well knows how to work them, thwart them. Face it, D-a-n-n-y, Danny, you came here as bait!"

"That's ridiculous." Danny whispered, his heart racing. "Clockwork would never do that."

"I am sure he did not entirely wish to..." Noone trailed.

An image flashed into mind, of Clockworks helpless, saddened face. When Danny saw him last he had looked...apologetic. It had to have been because Clockwork was depressed, he couldn't keep Dan contained, but...another image drifted forth, one of it taking days and a lot of noise for him to escape. Clockwork had to have noticed, he would have tried to stop it...but the portal image showed no attempts at keeping the thing from exploding, and Clockwork had plenty of time to tell Danny—he was the master of it. Clockwork would have done all this deliberately. There was no other conclusion.

"Of course," Noone continued, as if Danny had not undergone a revelation that was leaving him confused and a little betrayed. "I do not believe Clockwork had a choice."

Danny blinked, "What was that?"

"Clockwork had no choice." Noone repeated.

Danny frowned, "There is always a choice."

"And that choice was...?"

Danny plopped back onto the ground, "I don't…really think I know…"


Hills village, late night

Mr. Lancer leaned back against the wall, surprised by the amount of children that had showed up. It must have been every kid that lived within the village, or, well, almost. Lancer could count on both hands the amount of teenagers in the room—and the fifteen-year-old Aaron was the oldest of all. Next to him were Ezekiel, Brook, Jeremiah, Mary, Ruth, Matthew, Alexander, and Cameron.

Lancer carefully memorized their names, as they were the oldest in their teenage years, and therefore the likely team that would 'break into the castle' with him. He would have objected to children putting their lives in danger, but Aaron insisted that if Danny knew how to defeat the 'demons' then they needed him. And Lancer already agreed before all that even came up.

The other children, though…they were the army while the older kids played a Calvary. There seemed to be fifty, although he was told it was only thirty-six young ones. It was incredible, too, as even though they fidgeted and talked among one another they respected Aaron and silenced when he asked them to. A teacher would have killed to have that kind of leadership.

Granted, it was probably earned by protecting the kids from ghost-knights and believing their stories of demons when no adult saw what they were. Aaron had informed Lancer that any adult that believed their child either stayed silent, or disappeared after speaking out. After a while, it had become regular that a parent would severely punish their child for claiming to see things that 'weren't there'.

And the teenagers sometimes saw it and sometimes didn't. The ones that did and got too loud were shipped to convents. Aaron shuddered upon telling him, and Lancer felt for the boy. From what he'd read, convents were not the most suitable of places, especially for an adventurous young kid.

Boys and girls were separated and one had to do mountains of clerk work, along with so much kneeling and praying that the stories that managed their ways out of those places were more like horror tales. Those who liked the places didn't often leave to tell stories, so convents were shrouded with bad rumors. And for good reason, Lancer supposed.

"Alright everyone, listen up…" Aaron commanded, immediately silencing the crowd. "We gotta mission to do." Hushed, it seemed as if everybody squeezed in the basement leaned in to hear what he had to say. Once again Lancer was thinking of how many a teacher would kill for this type of attention.

"Is it another food raid?" A random child blurted. There were murmurs of excitement within the younger ones.

"No," Aaron sighed, "Although we may need to do another one of those, and soon. But first," And here all whispering died again, "First we have to do a rescue mission."

Ezekiel stirred, clenching his fists. "Who are we rescuing, Aaron?" the boys voice was filled with a strangled hope.

Aaron gestured to me, "Well, as you all see, there's an adult here. His name's William." Aaron sat down, nodding me forth. I swallowed, squirming under the spotlight I had envied.

"You see," I started, standing. "My student was kidnapped by this ghost—I guess you call it a demon. The ghost's name was the Frightknight," a burst of noise traveled through the crowed, but a movement of feet from behind that suggested Aaron had stood quickly silenced it. "Daniel's parents were hunters in this area. They would get rid of the ghosts that entered my town back home…" Lancer trailed off, lost in a sudden thought, "Danny's parents were ghost hunters…of, of course!"

In a bout of inspiration Lancer paced around the small dirt circle sanctioned off for a speaker. "His parents are ghost hunters, so what if they were using this time and this place as a holding place for him? As a ransom or something against his parents? It could make sense, but…but…" his idea shook, on uneven ground with one little factor. "But why am I here?"

"Uh…William, sir?" The blond one—Matthew, inquired, clear worry on his face. "What do you mean?"

Lancer looked into his eyes, into the gray-green dim color that shouldn't at all be reminding him of a ghost's eyes. But they did, and one ghost in particular. This boy's hair had a much tidier array, and it was indeed a light blond, not at all white…somehow, Matthew was enough to remind him of their town's most famous ghost.

Specifically, a certain phrase said relatively often by the poltergeist. "'You're making a mistake…'" He whispered, smiling faintly at the quote. "…The ghost made a mistake. I shouldn't be here." Lancer mumbled, much to the confusion of his surrounding group. "But if I'm not supposed to be here then they won't know about me, and I can make a difference…"

Lancer shook his head. "Change in plans."

"What?" Bemused, Aaron pushed a stray lock of dark hair from his face.

"We aren't going to break into the castle to help Danny, not yet." Lancer replied, returning to a fast pace.

"Why not?" Ezekiel interrupted, "If we got your student we could help to save other people from in there—like my dad."

"Exactly!" Lancer cried, grinning. "Can anyone here read?"

They blinked at him. "Never mind," Lancer continued, frowning, "Maybe if I can understand you talking I can understand writing, too."

Ruth folded her arms, "Excuse me, sir? But what are you going off about?"

"I'll explain, just tell me, would the church have any scriptures or books concerning demons and how to get rid of them?" Lancer asked, knitting his brows together.

"…Yes," A young girl, about twelve with a braid holding together her red locks answered. "My daddy works with the priest and his garden. Daddy says that the inside is full of books—and they all say church things."

"No use, whatever you're thinking." Aaron muttered, "They guard the church. There's always a demon around outside of it and they're always watching us in there—no way could anyone get into the back room for the books."

"But I need the information." Lancer bit his lip, "Isn't there a way to sneak in?"

Mary cocked her head to the side, "What's so important that you have to sneak into the chapel?"

The teacher rubbed his pounding forehead, "Ghost hunting started in this time. There has to be knowledge of a way to defeat or temporarily paralyze them inside of those scriptures…" Lancer trailed, thinking quickly. "I know that Danny might be a help but his parents really used more advanced stuff…we're probably talking herbs and anti-ghost mixtures created by nature. I doubt the boy paid as much attention to ghost-affecting plants as he did to my lessons."

Ruth played with a younger kids hair, looking up at William Lancer questioningly. "If you're seeking plants, there are probably answers in the church garden book. They burned down the garden when they got here, but the book should still be in the chapel. But we are confused. Why do you wish to change your plans?"

"You see," Lancer started, "I was banking on the idea that if my theory was right, Danny's parents had created enemies that would get him here, under captivity. But, the memory of one particular ghost reminded me that ghost's have a tendency to make mistakes. In this case, me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Aaron admitted.

Fiddling with the concept, Lancer rocked back on his heels, "They don't know I'm here, they wouldn't expect me…this wouldn't really make a difference if Danny's janitor ghost story was real, but now with the Frightknight—and his kidnapping of Danny I can only assume that it was planned. And I wasn't supposed to be here…"

Lancer grinned, "Meaning I have the element of surprise!"

Blinking, Aaron took a step back. "We had the element before, too."

"No, but I also remembered something else," Lancer added, and tapped his bald cranium. "In a book written about ghosts—I had to catch up on them because of the constant invasions—the origins of ghost hunting started around the dark ages and was recorded in church books as ways to get rid of demons—and I bet that some of them were real. Some of them worked."

"I don't understand." Many muttered agreement with Aaron.

Lancer sat down on a crate, surveying the poorly-lit audience that seemed to have keyed into his every movement. "What I'm saying is—these books, some of them, at least, I believe will get rid of your demon problem. Possibly permanently. If we used them as one of our weapons upon entering that castle, I think we might have a chance."

"What about the soldiers that aren't demons?" A kid wondered. "They won't get no hurts by it, but they believe the lie, they'll attack us for trying to break into the castle."

"Simple," Aaron replied, "We'll set free the imprisoned palace guard."

Faces brightened considerably with that answer, "Yeah, they'll get rid of those bullies for us. And we'll get rid of those demons for them."

"And I'll get my student back." Lancer smiled, confident that he had managed to fabricate some sort of plan. "So we break into the church. This should be…interesting."


So...yeah. Updated! ... I swear, never to promise sooner updates again. :faint: I think it makes it worse. Promises make me procrastinate...

~Catalyst