Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 23rd March 2022

Toby approached the Soothscryer with trepidation. Despite his feeling like, just minutes before, Trollmarket was where he truly belonged... he had to admit he was nervous about this. The Soothscryer had never called to him before! According to Blinky, it would bite his freaking arm off if he wasn't worthy to be a Trollhunter. And Toby did not think this was something Blinky had lied about; the way he'd said it, so long ago, had felt like it was something that had happened and Blinky had personally witnessed more than once. Which meant that not everyone the amulet picked was actually worthy of being a Trollhunter.

...Huh. That was something Toby should take up with Douxie. Or more especially Merlin, since, yanno, he was the one who had made the amulet, and if it routinely picked unworthy bearers, that was clearly a design flaw.

Toby stepped forward. Swallowed. Glanced down at the ground of the Forge, where Draal waited, watching.

Draal had survived losing an arm, in the original timeline. But Toby was human, made of flesh and blood. He kind of doubted he would make it as far as medical attention, if he failed.

Turning back to the Soothscryer, he dragged up his resolve; his face set in determination. "You bite off my hand," he threatened, "and I'm taking you with me. Eclipse versus Soothscryer? You're gonna be rubble, buddy."

Bravery somewhat shored up by his own words, Toby drew one last breath, and stuck his hand in.

The stone mouth clamped down hard around it, and the world fell away into darkness.

"Blast it all!" Merlin's voice echoed down the hall.

Galahad raised his eyebrows, leaned back in his chair, and sipped at his onion ale, waiting.

The wizard stalked into the kitchen, looking irate and imperious. "Galahad," he said, "have you any idea what that boy is doing?"

"None whatsoever," Galahad replied. He kicked a chair out for Merlin. "Sit and tell me about it. I'll fetch you a mug." And, standing as Merlin sat, he went to do that very thing.

"The boy," Merlin as much as growled, "has not only mucked about with time-time, Galahad! The one thing I warned him, again and again, never to mess with-but now he and his cohort of children are going to release Gunmar from the Darklands and risk his rise!"

"Aye, that's a rough lot," Galahad agreed, setting the mug of foaming ale before the wizard as he retook his own seat. "Children are but a pain, my old friend. 'Tis why I never had any. To the wisdom of the virgin knight!" he toasted himself.

Merlin snorted loudly. "You're as virgin as an ancient cow in the field."

Galahad grinned as Merlin quaffed his brew. "True, my friend, I was never known to pass up the charms of a willing lady. But note that I, unlike you, remain childless."

"You and Arthur both," Merlin grumbled, peering into his mug. "Galahad, whatever did you add into this ale?"

"A bit of dillweed," Galahad told him proudly.

"Makes it almost palatable," Merlin said grudgingly. He sighed. "I never wanted another son. Let alone one so reckless."

Galahad patted him on the shoulder. "So you admit it!"

"Ha." Merlin frowned.

"Oh, are we drinking?" A small green figure peered around the arch of the doorway.

"Lady Nari!" Galahad raised his mug in greeting. "Come, my lady, join us! The good wizard is drowning his frustrations in his cups."

"Thank you, I will." She picked her way across the stones of the floor and knelt atop one of the chairs, thanking Galahad prettily when he set a tankard before her. She sniffed at the brew, wrinkled her nose, and held a hand above the mug, sprinkling green magic down upon its contents until they transmuted to something more to her liking. She raised the tankard in both hands and took a long drink.

"Any thoughts, my lady?"

Nari tilted her head to one side, her eyes narrowed as she considered. "Perhaps... some aniseed?" she suggested.

"Ha, a fine idea!" Galahad bellowed. "I shall try it in the next batch!"

"You shouldn't encourage him, Nari," Merlin told her. "You will only make the slow degradation of his taste buds more pronounced."

Galahad snorted in indignation. "And what else should I fill my eternity with, praytell, other than brewing?" He eyed the wizard. "Don't think I regret for a minute agreeing to steer this castle about the skies, my old friend, but there's no new tales to tell, no young knights to train, and the suits of armor are hardly the chattiest of companions. So, studying the art of the brew it is!" To punctuate his point, he raised his tankard again and took a hearty draught, swallowing the contents down to their bitterest dregs.

"Your point is taken, Sir Galahad," Merlin said dryly as Galahad wiped his hand across his mouth, smacking his lips and tonguing a stray bit of dillweed free from between his teeth.

"I find it a fine pursuit, Merlin," Nari said with a bright smile. "Sir Galahad is not afraid to experiment, and to make new things, whether they are good or bad. It is an admirable trait."

"Ahh, my lady," Galahad said, touched, "I do thank you for your fine compliments."

Merlin huffed. "As I cannot very well stop you," he said, "I shall reduce myself to simply partaking of your results, whether they be good or ill." He took a sip of his own drink, wrinkled his face in distaste, then took another drink.

"So, about this wayward apprentice of yours," Galahad said, returning the conversation to Merlin's original point of ire. "He's plotting to release Gunmar, eh? After all that difficulty you went through to seal away the brute."

"He is not just a brute, more's the pity." Merlin took another drink. "He's clever, and powerful, and has an army behind him. And they think they can defeat him, just because they have two Trollhunters this time. Pfaugh!" Another drink. "By my beard, I've half a mind to go give Hisirdoux a piece of my mind! Not that it would change his," he added bitterly.

Galahad smirked. "I suddenly recall that curse on parents - 'may you have a hundred children, all just like you'." He elbowed Nari. "You wouldn't think it to look at him, lass, but our Merlin here was once quite the hothead himself!"

"Oh, yes, I do remember," she said, smiling as she looked up at Merlin.

Merlin sniffed. "I am no longer a child."

"Oh, but to me you are!" Nari laughed. She stood on her chair and patted him on the head, her expression fond. "I remember your childhood. There were many frogs caught in ponds."

Merlin, going by his expression, was put out at the reminder.

Galahad patted the wizard on the shoulder. "My friend, one of the hardest lessons any man has to learn is that there is always a part of him that is a child. And the sooner he embraces that, the wiser he becomes."

Merlin now looked downright surly. "I am trying to save the world, and you are talking to me of childhood! Truly, have neither of you any ideas for how to stop my apprentice and the Trollhunters from reopening Killahead bridge? After all it cost us to close it? After it cost us Arthur's very /life/?"

Galahad sobered at the memory of his king's fall. Of holding the boy who had become a man who had become his liege lord in his arms, watching as he took his last breath...

"Arthur's gold was mortal, and always meant to pass," Nari said softly. "All men die, Merlin, even kings and wizards. Not all leave behind legacies such as his." Though her tone was serene, her eyes, Galahad noted, were sharp. "Do not lionize the dead and wake their shades for your own purposes. Let them rest in peace."

At her words, Merlin's expression grew troubled and aged, as though the master wizard, Galahad thought, knew more than he was yet ready to say.

"Another drink," Merlin said only, pushing his mug across the table to the castle's brewmaster.

Galahad obliged.

Toby fell through darkness and the ground came up fast. Squeaking, he curled into a ball and prayed to survive.

He hit the stone hard and bounced, then hit again and rolled, for what felt like forever, until he came to a stop.

Uncurling, he shook his head, trying to get his rattled brains reorganized. "It worked," he whispered in awe. He owed Draal, like, a thousand drinks at the pub!

Then he realized where he was.

Jim had described the Void Between World before. It was another version of the Hero's Forge, colder, darker, inhabited only by mists and ghosts.

A chill ran down Toby's spine as he heard them whispering to him.

He pushed to his feet. "Hello?" he called. "Um, hey, you guys wanted me here, so...?"

"Trollhunter," a voice said behind him.

Toby spun.

Kanjigar stood there, his hands before him, a ghostly Daylight's tip resting on the floor of the afterlife version of the Forge. He was all blue and spirit-y, which was very cool to look at. Was he corporeal? Could Toby touch him? He kind of wanted to poke and find out, but in the back of his mind he knew Nana would whap him upside the back of his head for poor manners.

"Hey, Kanjigar!" Toby greeted instead, one hand raised. "How's it shaking?"

Kanjigar's studiously neutral expression dipped into a frown. "You are considering releasing Gunmar," he said.

"Well, it's kind of more of a group project, really-"

"You are the Trollhunter," Kanjigar snapped, and began to stalk around Toby in a circle. "It is your responsibility. Without your assent, your foolish group of allies knows they would have no hope of ending his scourge, so their plan hinges on your agreement."

"Hey," Toby said, stung. "One, we don't know that Excalibur can't kill him. Two, we've done it before-"

"Arthur's sword is of no use," Kanjigar growled. "It does not hold the Triumbric Stones. It could not kill Gunmar in the past, it cannot kill him now. Only the Eclipse Blade will suffice."

"Well, then, it'll just have to suffice, won't it?" Toby growled, twisting to meet Kanjigar's gaze. "It did before, it will again."

Kanjigar sniffed. "It was not you who wielded it then."

Toby simultaneously saw red and felt like he'd been punched in the stomach.

He was second best.

He was only the Trollhunter because Jim had set it up that way.

He wasn't the amulet's real master, that was Jim, had always been Jim, would always be Jim-

Someone materialized behind Kanjigar and smacked him up the back of his head. "Lighten up, rockhead." Then she looked at Toby and smiled. "Hey, short stuff. Long time no see."

And Toby had never, ever, seen this troll in his entire life. But he knew that voice. Had spoken with it once upon a time, locked away behind his own eyes, thrilled beyond measure and gibbering with reverence as Deya, Deya the Deliverer, Deya the first Trollhunter, had possessed him and used his body to bear witness on Jim's behalf.

"Deya," Toby breathed now in awe.

"The same." She had Kanjigar by the scruff of his neck, like he was a misbehaving kitten or something. "Pay no attention to this lug, he's a pessimist-"

Kanjigar writhed and scowled. "I am the longest-living Trollhunter-"

"Yeah, and Bular killed you too, just like most of the rest of us," Deya scoffed. "You're not better than the rest of us just because you're the newest."

"I am better than some-"

"Does he mean me?" a whiny voice howled from the disembodied ghostly pack. "He means me, doesn't he?"

"Shut up, Unkar!" Deya and Kanjigar snapped as one.

"Uh..." Toby knew he was staring, but really didn't know what to make of this. Jim had never mentioned previous Trollhunters fighting with one another.

Deya looked at him, sighed, and dropped her grasp on Kanjigar, who rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, kid. I know Kanjy here wants to read you the riot act, but keep in mind he can't actually keep you from doing what you want. We're all dead in here. You're the living Trollhunter. You get to decide what to do."

"And what he is planning is a bad idea!" Kanjigar insisted. "He will release Gunmar from the Darklands! He was sealed there for a reason!"

"Yeah, I know, I was there," Deya deadpanned.

"Look, I took out Bular," Toby argued on his own behalf. "Which you never did. And, yes, I know my friends helped me set it up so it worked, but what do you think we're going to do with Gunmar? It's not just a handful of us this time, we've got the entire freaking Ninth Configuration working on this! And our team managed to stop the Arcane freaking Order, okay? I think we can handle Gunmar."

Kanjigar glowered. Deya just smiled.

"If you fail," Kanjigar warned, "you will unleash darkness upon this world such as it has never known."

Toby scoffed. "Yeah, we know," he said. "But what's the alternative? Running and hiding scared and letting the next schmuck along try to deal with the threat? We're not the heroes this world deserves, but we're the ones it's got, okay?"

Deya's smile morphed into a full-fledged grin. "I like you, kid."

"Pssht." Toby waved it off. "You like Jim better. I know that. Everyone likes Jim better."

"You know, I don't?" she said thoughtfully. "I mean, I like him. And he told me what I needed to hear, back in Camelot. But you? I really like you. Most of the lubs I'm stuck with in here don't have a sense of humor. You do, and that'll get you a long way."

Toby blinked. "I'm, like, second choice, though?" he asked. "I only have the amulet because Jimbo set it up. He's the real Trollhunter. Everyone knows that."

"You just said you only took out Bular because your friends set you up." Deya looked up, gestured at the hovering wisps of mist darting around the ghost Forge. "None of them did that. Heck, I didn't do that. And if you think you're not really a real Trollhunter..." She stalked forward, poking him right in the amulet. Toby felt it, felt her touch as solid, even though she was a ghost. "This picked you. If you weren't a real Trollhunter, it never would have."

Toby swallowed. "What about all the ones whose arms the Soothscryer bit off?"

Deya snorted. "The morons on the outside forgot to oil the machinery," she said. "It cost us three Trollhunters in a row before they got a clue."

Toby was gaping. "What?!" he demanded.

Deya snorted. "Yeah. The living can be idiots."

"The dead," Kanjigar reminded her, "are not beyond that either." They both looked up in unison as an unseen voice howled in insult. Unkar again, Toby thought.

Then Kanjigar looked back at Toby, his expression still displeased. "Deya is correct," he said. "We cannot stop you. Ah!" He held up a hand, forestalling Toby's response. "That said, I still advise against this course of action. It has many ways in which it could go wrong, and few in which you may succeed. If you fail, Gunmar will kill you, and destroy all you love, for no other will be able to stop him."

"We won't fail," Toby said stubbornly.

Kanjigar sighed. "I pray you will not."

Toby swallowed. "In the last timeline, you told us what we needed to do to save Jimbo from the Darklands. You could see the future."

Kanjigar nodded, as grave as, well, the grave. "Time flows differently for the living than for the dead."

"Any advice?" Toby asked quietly.

Kanjigar seemed to think for a minute, then shook his head. "Your plans have been made. Stick to them, and you may yet thread the needle of fate."

Deya leaned against Kanjigar's shoulder. This time, he didn't seem irked. "Keep faith in yourself, kid, and we'll keep faith for you."

Toby had to smile. "Thanks," he said, bowing.

"No thanks are necessary between fellow Trollhunters," Kanjigar said, with a nod.

"Yeah, what he said," Deya agreed. "Good luck, short stuff."

The ghost Forge dissolved. Toby blinked, and pulled his hand out of the Soothscryer's mouth.

"Toby!" Draal called up to him. "All is well?"

Toby looked down at his trainer. Wet his lips. "I think so?" He looked back at the Soothscryer one more time, then back to Draal. "They said we can try!"

Zoe jumped and shrieked, pointing. "What is that?!"

Krel turned to look, and had to facepalm. "Ay ay ay, I forgot about those," he muttered. Then, "Mother," he addressed the ship. "Can you please tell Aja to come collect her skeltegs before they start breeding?"

The three humans were staring at the bug the size of an Earth softball, wide-eyed. Well, he supposed they had never seen one before. "Mother," Krel said, thinking the better of it, "can you do a scan and confirm how many there are?"

"Yes, my royal," the ship said. "I currently detect sixteen skeltegs onboard." A pause. "Make that seventeen."

The glowing pink insectoid landed on a control panel. "Get off that!" Krel swatted it away before it could eat the panel and multiply.

"What is it?" the human named Hiccup asked. He looked like he wanted to poke the bug, but was restraining himself out of caution.

"It is a skelteg," Krel informed him. "They are pests, and also pets, and my sister has been known to bet on skelteg matches. She is," he admitted, turning to keep eyes on the creature, "very good at determining winners."

"Krel." Douxie crossed his arms and looked unimpressed. "What happened last time?"

"They started eating bits of the Mothership and multiplying. Then they followed us to the school and became a true infestation."

"Wait, go back." Zoe stared at him. "They eat electronics?"

Krel nodded. "Sadly, yes."

The hedgewizard whipped her wand out, pointing it, sparking pink already, at the skelteg. "If they escape this building," she said lowly, "I will wreak extreme violence."

"Agreed," Krel said.

"On you," Zoe specified.

Krel hesitated, then nodded. "Fair enough."

Aja came running into the room, Eli close behind her. "Is that-" She stopped. "Ugh, not already," she complained.

"Yes, already," Krel snapped to his sister. "Do you have a way to contain them, or are we squashing them all again?"

"Twenty-one," Mother issued a new skelteg count.

Aja dragged a hand down her face, groaning. "Destroy them," she said with a sigh. "We cannot risk them getting free here on Earth."

"Excellent. Mother, inform Varvatos of the infestation," Krel told the ship.

"So how do we kill them?" Hiccup asked, warily eyeing the one bug in the room as it flew in lazy circles.

"Well, you can squash them," Aja offered.

"Hmm." Archie eyed the circling insectoid, then sprouted wings and leapt into the air. "Let's see if they're fireproof." He spat a jet of flame at the skelteg.

It gave a high-pitched scream under the onslaught of dragon fire, then exploded in a burst of blue slime that splattered on all of them. Even the dragon.

"Eugh," Douxie complained.

"Ew," Zoe agreed, trying to shake it off her arm. "This is worse than goblin goo."

Archie landed, briefly attempted to groom the glowing blue off his black fur, and spat it out repeatedly. "It tastes even more foul than goblin goo," he reported.

"Twenty-three skeltegs," Mother reported.

"Ugh, finding them all will take too long," Krel complained. "Mother, if I turn up the music in my workroom, can you broadcast it through all your systems?"

"Yes, my royal. I now count twenty-nine skeltegs."

Eli's eyes were wide behind his glasses. "Wow, they multiply fast."

"They do," Krel agreed, and led the way to the room he had co-opted for his workshop.

Behind him, Douxie grinned and caught Zoe's arm. "Come on, Zo, you've got to hear this."

"Hear what?" she demanded.

"DJ Kleb, dropping the sick beats," the not-yet-master-wizard informed his bandmate, dragging her along.

Varvatos was peacefully enjoying some hooman television programming after having returned from lunch with Nancy. He reclined in his favorite chair, gleefully berating the idiocy of the players of the games while Luug and Luug's curious new friend romped behind him, playing tug of war with a length of cabling. Varvatos approved of tug-of-war; it was a noble test of strength.

"Ha! NO!" he yelled at the television. "Choose door three!"

"Commander Vex," Mother said.

"Not now," he told the ship's computer. "Varvatos is enjoying watching these hooman fools get their 'kiesters' handed to them." He was not entirely sure what part of the hooman anatomy a 'kiester' was, but he suspected it was one of the internal organs. In which case, more glory and carnage!

"Commander Vex," Mother repeated. "I have been asked to inform you of an active skelteg infestation."

"Yes, yes," Varvatos said dismissively, waving her off.

Then, a moment later, "WHAT?!"

He turned around and saw, to his horror, the Blanks in the kitchen, which was crawling with the vermin.

"Shoo, shoo," Lucy said with a broad grin on her face, urging a skelteg off the food heating surface.

"Who you gonna call?" Ricky asked, wielding a rolled-up magazine and swinging gamely at another skelteg on the door of the refrigerator.

"Mother!" Varvatos bellowed, standing. "Where are the royals?"

"King-in-Waiting Krel is in the daxial array chamber, with his guests. Queen-in-Waiting Aja is in the regeneration chamber, with hers."

"Are the skeltegs endangering the King and Queen?"

"Not yet," the AI reported.

"Excellent. Luug!" Varvatos called to the beast. It turned to look at him. "It is time to make good use of your intestinal fortitude," he said, grabbing the beast up and holding it under his arm. He aimed its rear and squeezed, causing a small plasma blast that neatly annihilated a skelteg.

"Now that's the way you do it!" Lucy cheered. She grabbed a skillet and swung, smashing another skelteg into blue slime.

"All righty, then!" said Ricky. He swung his magazine more forcefully and eliminated another insectoid.

The black dog that had come into the house with one of the wizards watched this, its head cocked to one side and an almost curious look on its face. Once it grasped the basic idea of destruction, however, its face morphed into something considerably more savage. Its teeth grew longer, sharper. It leapt and snatched a skelteg out of the air, snapping its jaws shut with a crunch. Blue goo squirted everywhere. Shaking its head, the beast released its prey and leapt after another as Varvatos watched.

"Varvatos has questions about Earth canines," Varvatos murmured, watching the black dog gleefully destroy its prey.

Just then, a throbbing, pulsing beat began to sound through the entire structure. Varvatos dropped Luug and covered his ears. "Mother! What is the meaning of this horrible sound?"

"The King-in-Waiting has insisted it is a 'sick beat'," she informed him. "And that I am to refer to him as 'DJ Kleb' while he is constructing it."

"It is absolutely dreadful," Varvatos insisted.

"Agreed, Commander Vex," Mother said, but nonetheless increased the volume. And the pitch. Until, one by one, the skeltegs burst in a shower of glowing blue liquid. "Infestation eliminated," she reported. The so-called music abruptly cut out.

Varvatos sniffed. "It seems to have done the job," he grudgingly admitted.

"Will you just look at this mess," Ricky said cheerfully.

"Time to clean it up!" said Lucy, and pulled out a broom.

"Woo! Mess it up, DJ Kleb!" Douxie cheered, throwing the sign of the horns.

"Oh my gosh, that was amazing, Krel!" Eli said, adjusting his glasses. Like the rest of them, he was splattered in blue goo. But he didn't seem to mind.

Zoe huffed. "Not bad," she admitted.

Krel, though, just looked around them. "Ugh, this is going to take forever to clean up," he said.

"You are correct, little brother." Aja nodded.

"Well." Krel shrugged. "Let us all hit the showers? While the blanks do their work and Mother dry-cleans our clothes?"

But Archie hissed.

"Oh, come on, Arch, it's just a bit of water."

"No thank you," the dragon informed his familiar.

His familiar looked unimpressed. "It's either the water, or licking that stuff out of your fur."

A myriad of expressions crossed Archie's face before he finally settled on unhappy resignation. "Oh, all right. I still hate water, though."

And, a bit later, looking at the distinctly unhappy cat-dragon, Krel understood why.

Though his sympathy did not stop him from snapping a few photographs on his phone and promptly sending them to everyone he knew.