Hi guys, and happy Friday! Your comments have been giving me ideas, although you see them start to show up for 15 chapters or so. :)
In other news, I've been sucked into a deep hole known as 'Merlin fanfiction' and it might be a bit before I properly surface again. That's giving me some ideas, too. The tropes we use are actually sort of similar, but they're applied in different ways. It's a bit novel, and I'm having fun.
I hope you are having just as much fun with this!
Also, this is a good time to remind everyone that I don't own Danny Phantom.
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Chapter 180: Vestments
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Danny ran his hands over the soft, velvety weave of the cloak. The inside of the cloak. He was cold, after all. He flipped up the hood, and looked up at Clockwork. Clockwork looked back at him.
This was kind of awkward.
That, in itself, made Danny feel more awkward. He'd thought he'd long ago passed the point where he was awkward with Clockwork.
But, he reminded himself, this wasn't Clockwork. Yet. This was weird, standoffish, stiff, asocial proto-Clockwork. Who still was and would be Clockwork. Kind of. Danny hadn't figured out how to order all this in his head. Yet.
Clockwork cleared his throat. "They will not be long," he announced. "In the meantime, let us try to pin down your timeline."
Danny nodded, trying to hide how troubled he was. He removed his lower lip from between his teeth, belatedly realizing it was a tell. Danny felt certain that the Clockwork of his time would have just been able to tell when and where he was from. That Clockwork had something like five millennia worth of experience on this one, so the difference shouldn't be unbelievable, but Danny had somehow built up an idea in his head of Clockwork being... permanent. Timeless. Unchanging. Solid. Stable.
Which was kind of stupid, now that he had examined the feeling. Didn't Nephthys tell him all the time that everything and everyone changed? Hadn't Clockwork himself told Danny about things he'd done in his past that he regretted, or that he would change, if changing his own timeline wasn't so dangerous and draining?
"Tell me about the Ancients of your time."
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Nebet-Het sat by the reflecting pool in her lair and turned the crown over in her hands. A decent facsimile of a desert wind picked at her clothes, and the lotuses and reeds planted along the banks of the pool dipped and bobbed. A wind chime jingled quietly.
The other ruined artifacts were spread to either side of her. To her left: the loose beads of the lapis necklace, the crushed and tarnished breastplate, the cracked and crazed lapis rod. To her right: the similarly loose beads of the double-stranded necklace, and what remained of its strings, the slightly-melted gold bracelet, and the rag that was once Inanna's dress.
The remnant of the crown felt different to Nebet-Het. Compared to the others, it was more than it should have been. More what, she was unsure.
She had never had the chance to closely examine the artifacts when they were whole. However, she knew what their supposed effects and powers had been.
The dress had been woven of silk harvested from ghost spiders and human-world silkworms. Its purpose had been to give Inanna easy access to the powers every ghost took for granted: invisibility, intangibility, and flight.
The rod had been multipurpose. Lapis, properly prepared, was a stone of power. It could call lightning and imbue its wielder with an extra measure of authority.
The gold the bracelet had been shaped of had been panned from the River Phlegethon, and possessed both of its properties. Power over fire and quickened healing were granted to whoever wore it.
The breastplate's purpose was simple. As with any armor, its purpose was to protect the wearer. Being magic, however, or at least ghostly, the breastplate protected completely against a wide variety of harms, including unfriendly surveillance. Although, considering how crushed the breastplate currently was, and that Daniel's campaign against her likely counted as 'unfriendly surveillance,' Nebet-Het had to conclude that the breastplate's abilities had been somewhat exaggerated.
The beads of the double necklace were each designed to purify ecto-energy. Sorcerers like Inanna needed that. Even the faintest ghost of another's will on the ectoplasm they used could render their spells impotent, or explosively dangerous.
The lapis beads had confused Nebet-Het when she had first heard of them. She knew of a way that humans might be controlled with carefully treated and imbued lapis, but the same could not be said of ghosts. But now that they were crumbling here in front of her, she could see the flecks of glassy red against the overall blue of the stone. That would have to be disposed of extremely carefully.
All of these had been reduced massively, the frameworks on which their powers depended destroyed, picked apart by Daniel's body. Oh, all of them would still phase through things with any ghost who cared to wear them. The dress might provide a human in the Realms with a little better control. Touching the rod might make your hair stand on end. The bracelet was hot enough to burn, but didn't. The breastplate deflected small stones before they reached its surface. The beads still had the power to purify and control, but they were much weakened.
Not the crown.
Whatever had happened to the crown was different.
It had, like all the others, changed, and not only in appearance. Nebet-Het had been given to understand that the crown's power had been opening temporary portals. Only in places where the world was thin, yes, but that was still a rare and magnificent power. Especially for a human to wield. It had been a gift to Inanna from Enki, so that she could visit him in his home in the Realms.
That power was still there. Nebet-Het had some small power over portals, although Heh and Nu shared the larger part of that responsibility, and that much was apparent to her. The power seemed to be rather muted, as Nebet-Het would expect, but-
But.
There was something else there, too. Other powers, mixed with the first, and the first was greater, much greater, than it should have been. Considering how much the crown had been reduced physically, it should have no more than a shadow of its former power. It should have less power than any of the other artifacts.
That wasn't the case. The crown had more power in it than all the others put together. It might even have as much power as it went in with. Except... the powers in it felt unfinished to her. Still changing.
Nebet-Het turned the crown over again. The surface of the metal was cold, almost icy. She wondered if some of Daniel's powers had seeped into it. He seemed to have a cold core.
Nebet-Het felt her mind go very carefully blank. Ah, she thought. She put the crown down and walked away. She came back with gloves and a box.
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Zaqar and Nu came back before Nebet-Het. Heh was glad. In futures where she came back first, she had wanted to talk to him. For some reason, whatever she wanted to talk about made the future fuzzy, so Heh was determined to avoid it. This way, when she came back, Heh could be safely tucked away in his workshop. He could contrive to be in there for as long as necessary. Eventually, Nebet-Het would have to go. She had responsibilities as the Master of Death, and could not wait outside Heh's door forever.
Their return was good for another reason. Daniel's energy had faded quickly after Nebet-Het had left. His answers to Heh's questions had become more confused, and more confusing. He also kept leaning into Heh, then jerking away and apologizing.
It would be good to get the child into bed.
Daniel did not seem to entirely grasp the concept, however. Perhaps he was simply too tired to process the bed's presence. He stayed sitting on the gnomon, blinking at the bed on the floor below.
Resigned to his fate, Heh flew over and picked the boy up. He put his arms around Heh as if it was entirely natural.
He put Daniel down on the bed. Daniel sighed, and laid down, eyes already half-closed. He kept his hand closed around the air near Heh. Heh frowned at that hand. He was becoming somewhat frustrated at how Daniel was able to see and manipulate that other timeline when Heh himself could not. Especially since Heh found that Daniel's hand around his non-existent sleeve was enough to keep him from moving away.
The barely-muffled snickers of Zaqar and Nu only added to his consternation. This was embarrassing. He was one of the Anunnaki, the Master of Time, and he was being repeatedly vexed by this tiny child.
He started picking at Daniel's fingers. "Daniel," he said, sternly, attempting to mimic the way he heard parents talk to their children, "it is time to let go."
"Okay..." said Daniel, faintly, unwinding his fingers. Heh drifted back, intending to go to his workshop. He almost missed what Daniel said next. "... love you..."
Heh felt like he'd been hit over the head with a pole. He did not even notice that Zaqar and Nu had stopped their teasing. He hadn't seen that coming. At all. Heh had to wonder if the paradox inherent to the child's timeline made his future more difficult to see, or if he was losing his powers. Or his mind. And wouldn't that be fun to do again?
But- Those two words. Those two tiny words. Directed at him, at Heh- No. Directed at who Heh would become.
"Stop," he whispered, and everything went still around him. Everything, that is, except for Daniel, who continued to slowly breathe in and out.
Why would Daniel say something like that? Yes, he had said earlier that Heh's future self allowed him to call him 'grandfather,' but this was yet a different thing. That could be shrugged off as a something like a joke, or as an inconvenience shouldered in the name of toleration. This? Not so.
It could just be a verbal reflex...
No, Heh dismissed that thought before he had even fully formed it. No. In the future, Daniel had imprinted on Heh, as a child did with their parent.
Exactly as a child imprinted on their parent. Which begged the question: How did that happen?
The question was like a key, a puzzle piece, slotted neatly into place. Suddenly, Heh saw. He saw where and when Daniel had come from, and he saw all those futures fanned out before him. If what he had seen before was golden, these were as bright and brilliant as the sun itself. He saw, within his grasp, all the things he didn't even know he wanted. He saw peace, and freedom, and prosperity.
The jaws of that slowly-growing secondary Obsession snapped shut around him. He wanted this. He needed this.
But even with a cursory glance, it was obvious that there were many, many pitfalls, many futures that would give him cause to curse himself and his greed. The options from his earlier look, those dark futures, they hadn't disappeared, and even blacker ones loomed over the narrow path he would have to walk to reach the moment Daniel had come from. That moment was none too bright itself, plucked as Daniel was from a fight with a dreadful paradox by an Observant who sought to murder him with a borrowed measure of Heh's powers.
Some of those futures... Heh didn't know if he could bring himself to chance them.
Heh let time start around him again, and turned to Zaqar and Nu. They looked concerned, of all things. Heh wasn't sure why.
"If you two intend to stay," he said, surprised at how steady his voice was, "could you watch Daniel? I have some more work to do, if I am to... send him home."
He barely had nods of consent from Nu and Zaqar before he swirled away. What he said wasn't quite a lie, but he could, technically, send Daniel home now. But if he did that, it would seal away Daniel's future forever. He would never see Daniel again. That future would wither and die, cut off from history, and Heh would be left with a terrible paradox to heal. If he wanted that future to even be an option, he had to make preparations. Many preparations.
It was tempting to keep Daniel here. Incredibly tempting. Then, at least, he would have one of the things he so ardently desired. Likely, he would have the Lady Ereshkigal's support on that, insofar as it went. She still wanted Daniel as king, and Heh would have the years of Enki's rule to train him to that role. With his new-found insight into Daniel and his life, he would be able to convince Daniel as well, to convince him that Heh had no choice but to keep him. The hardest part would be persuading the Observants to let Daniel stay with Heh, specifically, but they respected the Taboos, and would not order Heh to abandon even such a new, tenuous, bond.
Such a future, with Daniel as king, would still sparkle, still shine, but...
Heh did not have the time or desire to go over every detail of the futures that sprang from that choice. He could, however, look ahead to the end of Daniel's reigns. He could see Daniel, crying, weeping, red licking at the edges of his eyes. I can't do this anymore, Clockwork. I'm losing my mind. I can feel it. He could see the coffin, the sarcophagus, that Daniel would order made, based on a fading memory from a timeline that would never exist. He could see Daniel lower himself into it, willingly, and pull the heavy lid closed.
Heh did not know why Daniel would be so afflicted, but the knowledge nearly put a crack in his core. Madness was a hard and heavy thing, and one that Heh had personal experience with. He would not do that to Daniel, not if he could help it.
Which meant that he had to make sure the timeline Daniel came from came to pass. But... His new Obsession twisted uneasily in his core. Some of the things he would have to let happen... He wasn't sure he could make the right choices, in the moment. Not with what he knew now.
How had he managed it in that timeline? He settled in front of one of his tools, a clear sphere of polished crystal, and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to see. His own future was often difficult to divine, but even so, he usually didn't have this much trouble. He felt like how he privately accused junior Observants of being: Blinded by his own preconceptions.
But there might be a clue in that. What wasn't he seeing? How could he preserve Daniel, and those glorious futures, if his knowledge of the grim futures that sprang alongside them made him shy away, and seek mediocrity?
He looked into the murky futures swimming in the crystal.
Oh.
Yes. That could work. But he would need help. Lots of help. He would have to put away his pride to convince his fellows. No, he needed more than help. He needed advice.
Zaqar and Nebet-Het both seemed to be extant in Daniel's future, but not Nu. Loath as Heh was to admit it, Nu was the closest thing he had to a friend. Five-thousand years was a long, long time to search in, so Heh couldn't say what had happened to Nu, if anything, but asking any ghost to go to their end was too much.
But not asking Nu? Not telling him the consequences that might arise from helping Heh steer time towards Daniel's future? That was worse. He couldn't do it. Heh could scheme a ghost to their end, if it was necessary, end an enemy in a fight, or even maneuver entire civilizations to their ruin, but he couldn't walk into a room and ask someone to help him with something he knew would doom them, without telling them as much.
But could he let Daniel's fate be decided by Nu?
He closed his eyes. Morals were almost enough to drive a person to madness.
