Across Time and Space
3
Despite all he had seen during his time in the LEPrecon, Commander Trouble Kelp was still a sceptic. He believed in the physical, the rational, the tangible, and doubted that which he could not see. Though he, like all law-abiding fairies, wielded the power of magic, Trouble preferred good ol' elbow grease and sweat to blue sparks, potions and magic circles.
However, no matter how hard he tried, Trouble would never be able to completely explain what happened that one morning, shortly after Foaly cracked the Time Tunnel spell.
Eventually, to calm his own conscious, Trouble would attribute the vision to exhaustion. Yes, that was it. He had been working way too hard (as usual) and had simply been overcome with a brief delusion. Though such experiences may not be exactly common, they happened. There was nothing magical, nothing supernatural about it.
He had been sitting at his desk, taking a break from the normal paperwork by going over the latest mission briefings when a quiet rumbling distracted his thoughts.
'Just a Magnabike starting,' his mind rationalized, refusing to investigate the seemingly innocuous sound.
But, despite his unswerving focus, the noise increased in volume, and Trouble's ears twitched, sensing faint words. They seemed to form from the rumbling, like a figure appearing in a cloud of mist, their shape and meaning still indistinct in the distance.
"I have faith in you..."
His curiosity breaking free of its reigns, Trouble's mind determined that the voice was a form of Gnommish, crude but refined at the same time.
Though his mind begged to roam and discover more about the voice and who it belonged to, Trouble forced his body to stay still and continue to scan the reports, though, try as he might, he wasn't retaining much information.
"Where do you want this?"
Without notice, the voice had changed. The words were much higher pitched now, and for a moment, Trouble swore he was hearing the voice of- no, it couldn't be. Chances were the Mud Boy was long dead.
Accompanying the words, Trouble was startled to feel an oven-hot breeze sail through the office, ruffling the papers on his desk and lifting the end of his ponytail and, for a moment, the scent of ashes.
"What the hell?" he said, his thoughts finally breaking free of his body and making themselves heard.
"Okay young fellow...was good...impressed. But this is the...spell's breakdown...island to move."
Like a person trying to find the right station on the radio, the voice came in and out and Trouble caught only snatches of the conversation. Meanwhile, the smell of ashes and hot wind became stronger.
"An island? And entire island?" This voice was somewhere in between the deep rumbling and the pre-pubescent squeaking of before.
"And everyone on it. No pressure."
Like the wind and ashes, the voices themselves became clearer and Trouble now found himself leaning forward in his chair, his head cocked as he followed the conversation between the invisible speakers.
"They're talking about Hybras," Trouble whispered, for once allowing himself to be awed by the situation.
The illusion continued to solidify around Trouble, until he could almost see the speakers' desolate surroundings. He saw flashes of red light, flying clouds of ash, and felt the heat of a blood red sun. For a moment, the image of Artemis Fowl II flashed before his eyes, pulling a metal briefcase across the cracked ground.
Trouble shook his head, but the vision stayed fixed before him.
"Count to three hundred. Maybe two ninety-nine. Providing the deterioration remains constant, which it should," the ghost Fowl said, still dragging the case.
"Five minutes and we're going home. Time to start the mantra," the growling voice replied, and Trouble was startled to realize that it belonged to a demon, one of two, which appeared to be helping Artemis.
Now on his feet, Trouble reverently reached out his hands to the vision, prodding it and trying to grasp something physical among the image. However, it refused to fully materialize, and so Trouble watched as though this was a three dimensional simulation in the training facility, albeit a very grainy and hazy one.
The vision seemed to move away from the duo of demons and the Mud Boy to a single, small figure fighting off a sea of other demons with a Neutrino that seemed to have little to no effect. As the ash cleared, Trouble swallowed anxiously as he realized that the figure was none other than Captain Holly Short.
"Call off your warriors Abbot. We can talk about this."
Trouble's heart clenched at the Captain's bravado. Holly was a talented officer, but things were pretty bad. He watched, helpless, as the demons charged down towards Holly, their world literally vanishing from under their feet as they ran.
Holly's Neutrino found little purchase among the roaring crowd and she stepped back, sweat dripping down her temple.
The vision suddenly jerked forward quickly and stopped, like a car screeching to a halt at a red light, throwing the passengers against their seat belts. Now Holly faced a single demon, his long horns glinting in the red light.
"Hello, elf."
And with that, sheathed his sword in Holly's chest.
Trouble cried out, reaching desperate fingers toward the vision of Holly, feeling as though he too, had been stabbed. However, the vision's connection was growing weaker, the actions of the demons more blurred and their words scattered.
"Magic..." Holly croaked, blood spilling from her chest wound.
"Magic cannot help you...working on this sword for...up...enchantment...steel...magic circle."
Trouble's breath hitched and he shouted, "No!" as the image quickly began to disappear, the mist dispersing.
Then, just as the image of Hybras was gone, Trouble heard a final four words, somehow clearer than the rest, despite the lack of connection. Four words, which would forever haunt Commander Trouble Kelp and result in a lifetime of resentment towards the skinny Mud Man.
"Artemis. Artemis, help me."
With that, the vision fully vanished, and Trouble collapsed in his office chair, still breathing heavily. His office seemed deathly quiet and still around him, and cold too, after the heat of Hybras. His skin tingled, as though his nerves were extra sensitive.
"Not real..." Trouble gasped. "Never happened- I'm just seeing things. She's not- Holly's going to be fine."
Thus, Trouble attempted to convince himself that the vision had merely been a delusion brought on by fatigue. For, he knew, if the dream had been reality, the Council was right, and all his work had been for nothing.
Corresponds with Chapter 16 of 'While You Were Out' which is based on my version of events in TLC. If you're interested, please feel free to take a look. Otherwise, send me some reviews for this piece!
Next up in Across Time and Space, something a little badass.
P.S. To all my fellow A/H shippers, I apologize for all the H/T stuff I've been writing lately. It pains me too. Also, "dark hair" and "deep purple eyes," Colfer? Really? I try to stay canon, but I will only go so far.