Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
released 3rd February, 2023
The clouds had rolled back in overnight, and with them, a fine drizzling rain. Douxie sighed, finished his business against the side of a tree (trying not to feel like he was marking territory or something), used a quick lavam spell on his hands, which burned, and went back inside the treehouse.
"Cold and wet," he reported to Jim, who was stirring the remains of last night's rabbit-and-squirrel stew over a small fire, reheating it for breakfast. The smell twisted at Douxie's stomach; for once, not in a good way. He ignored that and stuffed it down; the stew smelled fine, and he was not going to be held hostage to his body's idiosyncrasies.
"So, par for the course?" Jim asked, smirking.
"You see, this is why I have better cold resistance than you do," Douxie pointed out, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I grew up in the cold and wet. You're from the hot and dry part of the world."
"Arcadia's not the desert," Jim said with a frown.
"And thank the gods for that," Douxie agreed. "But it's not a northern maritime climate either."
Jim frowned. "Do you think they're worried about us, back home?" he asked, not meeting Douxie's eyes. "Or... I guess, is this going to be like last time, when we get home the moment we left?"
"Haven't got the time map, nor that great rock under Camelot with all of Merlin's contraptions to open a pinpoint portal through time," Douxie said softly. "So it's all up to the Time Stone as to when we return. Could be a few minutes after we left, or a few days."
"Or a few years?" Jim asked, looking up.
Douxie spread his hands. "Jim, I'm immortal. You're going to be, and so are Claire and Toby." He shrugged. "If it comes down to it, and that's what happens... what's a few years one way or the other?"
From his expression, Jim clearly didn't like swallowing down that answer. But he did nonetheless. "Well," he said, turning his attention back to the stew, "finishing high school without my friends would suck."
Douxie laughed. "I could transfer in and finish with you," he offered, only half jesting. It would suck, but he'd do it for Jim's sake.
Jim pulled a face. "No thank you."
"Oh, too good to have a wizard for a classmate?" Douxie teased.
"One," said Jim, brandishing the hastily-carved wooden spoon at him, "I have enough trouble with math without having to help you figure out algebra. And two, the thought of you in Strickler's history class is enough to give me nightmares."
"No love," Douxie complained by rote. "No love at all." Then he realized he was complaining to Archie, who wasn't there, and it stopped being funny.
Jim must have seen that on his face, because he said, very softly, "Douxie..."
Douxie forced himself to draw a breath and fake being well. He had a good deal of experience with that, acquired during centuries of customer service jobs. "It's all right," he said, even though it wasn't and he was suddenly aware all over again of the hole in his life where Archie should be. He managed a smile for Jim. "It's just a few days. We'll be home soon enough."
Even though he was not at all sure of that last thing.
"Brother, please!" Dictatious cried from the bottom of the chest.
"My apologies, Dictatious, but I cannot trust you," said Blinky, hoping he sounded more serene than he felt. "You have spent centuries working for Gunmar. To allow you free access to what we have built? That would surely be folly." He picked up the tray he had prepared, and carefully lowered it into the trunk, feeding the thin rope through the access until it was within Dictatious' reach.
"What have I done to warrant this imprisonment?" his elder brother wailed.
Aaarrrgghh poked his head over the edge of the box. "Worked with Skullcrusher," he informed their prisoner.
"What else was I to do?" Dictatious suddenly snarled. "Die?!"
Blinky's mouth thinned to a line at this reminder of his brother's warped nature. "I spent centuries thinking you had perished in that battle," he said softly. "And I wish I could rejoice at our reunion, Dictatious. But you and I both know that you advised Gunmar, supported him in his quest to take over the daylight lands."
"You know no such thing!" His arms crossed, Dictatious pouted.
"Oh, I do, to my lasting regret," Blinky told him. The space within the enchanted trunk appeared to be a plain room; the tray had settled on its ground. He let go of the rope, which really was little more than twine. "Some food and light reading for you, Dictatious." The book he had included today was about macrame. The twine might be useful if Dictatious decided to take it up as a hobby. "I will come and speak with you again tomorrow, Dictatious."
"Brother, wait!"
"Bye-bye," Aaarrrgghh rumbled, waving as they left.
Outside the small room, whose only occupant was Dictatious' trunk, Blinky let himself sag. "It is harder than I expected," he admitted, "to be, as humans put it, my brother's keeper."
A large, warm hand patted his back with surprising gentleness. "Blinky good brother," said Aaarrrgghh. "Keep Dictatious safe. Keep Trollmarket safe."
"Yes, I know. The denizens of our most fine hamlet would likely not take well to the knowledge that one of Gunmar's lieutenants dwells among us." Blinky sighed sadly. "For all our fine characteristics and mannerisms, it must be confessed that trolls are not kindly inclined toward outsiders."
"Or traitors," Aaarrrgghh agreed. He cocked his head to the side, looking thoughtful. "Talk with Vendel?" he suggested.
"A most amenable idea," Blinky complimented him. "Will you do me the honor of accompanying me to that no doubt distasteful debriefing?"
Aaarrrgghh smiled. "Always follow Blinky."
"Okay," Jim said half an hour into their morning's tromp through the woods. "I can get the following the river thing. But how do you know exactly which direction we're going now?"
"Well." Douxie ducked under a low-hanging branch, his hand on it so the move looked more like a swing or a dance move than a dodge. "Truth is, the licking dirt thing is all about the taste of magical residue, to the sufficiently nuanced tongue. Call it wizardly supertasting, or something."
Which, to Jim at least, definitely implied that Douxie had eaten a lot of dirt over the course of his life. Jim's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Ew. Can I request that you not teach Claire that? Ever."
Douxie shot him a grin. "I'll teach her what's useful for her to learn. But I promise to give her a full explanation of that particular skill beforehand and let her decide if it's one she wants to study."
Which was probably as good as Jim was going to get. "Thanks."
"Now, as to the direction thing... hmm." Douxie looked sidelong at him, a considering expression on his face. "Actually, that's one you might be able to do."
"Huh?" Jim blinked.
"It's more or less what birds do, how they know their migration paths. I'm literally able to sense the Earth's magnetic field," Douxie explains. "Once you can feel that, north and all the other directions lock pretty easily into place."
"Huh," Jim said again, more consideringly this time.
"And," Douxie continued, stepping over a gnarled tree root, "magnetism is tied in to geomancy. So this is a skill trolls have as well. Theoretically, when you're half-troll or more, it should be an innate sense you also have."
Jim blinked. "But I don't," he protested.
Douxie hummed. "I'll wager you do," he said after a minute. "But you came into trollish nature later in your life. For most trolls, sensing magnetic fields is something they do instinctively, from hatching on. Going from not possessing that sense to having it, some signals might have gotten lost, confused, or subsumed. And it's something Blinky might not even have realized you needed instruction in."
Jim considered that. "Is it something you could instruct me in?" He grinned. "'Teach'."
Douxie pointed paired fingers at him. "You do not get to call me that. Bad enough that Claire does. I am neither mature enough nor skilled enough to be a teacher."
"Uh-huh." Jim's grin widened. "I'll just ask Hiccup about that, when we get back."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
"Jim-"
"Maaaaster wizard~~," Jim sing-songed. "Pretty sure that comes with a teaching obligation."
"It does not!" Douxie glared. "For someone who's been an only child your entire life, you're taking far too well to the role of 'annoying little brother'."
"It's a gift."
Douxie sighed, his shoulders deflating. "I'll see if I can help you figure geomagnetism out tonight." He looked at the woods around them, thick and dark and damp. "The sooner we get to Charlie, the happier I'll be."
Jim sobered at the reminder of Herne and his malice. "Right. Same."
"Ugh." Jamie glared at the boxes of new stock that were supposed to have been unpacked and put on the shelves already.
Except Beth, according to her, had "never done that before," and "isn't that Douxie's job? Where is the slacker, anyway?"
Jamie had been trying to keep out of the low-key feud between the two of them, but (a) he was not going to tell her that Douxie was allegedly lost somewhere in time, and (b) he was not going to punch her in the teeth. Really he wasn't.
No matter how tempting she made it feel.
Now, he huffed through his nose, grabbing the box cutter from under the counter and starting the work that was supposed to have been done already.
The simple facts of it were, Beth didn't give a shit about the shop except as a source of steady employment, and, with Douxie unavoidably absentee, they needed another employee to cover the gap.
Jamie's mind flashed to Jack, and he almost immediately shook the idea off. Jack already had a daytime job at the daycare, which he loved, and he was ADHD at best; working day in and day out at a bookstore would be some kind of slow-grind torture for Jamie's partner.
(Jamie, for the record, loved it. Surrounded by books of the wild, fantastical, and magical, every day? And he got to read when there was no one in the store? Plus he got first or second look at the new arrivals? Yes, please!)
But the problem was, the staff all needed to be wizards. They needed to be able to vet the customers with special needs, and be able to give them entrance to the other layers of the bookstore. And while Arcadia was actually pretty rife with wizards, most of them were employed by HexTech. And given how almost no one from HexTech had lifted a finger to save everyone's bacon from Gunmar the Black and his army? Right now, Jamie wouldn't spit on them if they were on fire.
(He was starting to feel that way about Beth, too, to be honest.)
Plus there had been an honest-to-the-gods uptick in foot traffic in the few days since the battle. Jamie's on-the-clock reading time had dropped precipitously.
We need more staff.
The plus was, Mister Del Toro had heard out his explanation of the situation, and agreed with him. And Jamie had gotten promoted to assistant manager pro tem in Douxie's absence, so he had hiring power.
"If I could only find someone who wanted the job," he muttered, pulling paperback after paperback out of the box and stacking them on the counter.
Zoe was busy with her jobs at HexTech and the record shop, Hiccup had a whole ranch to run, and Claire and Mary were high school students.
Maybe either of them would want a part-time job? After school or on weekends?
"I could offer," Jamie muttered to himself, levitating books into their slots, shuffling the ones already there into order, making space.
Or...
He paused as the thought came to him.
What about Douxie's troll friend? The one who had been so delighted to finally visit the bookshop?
Jamie blinked, turning the idea over in his mind.
If they could get him here and back to Trollmarket safely...
Claire couldn't portal him directly into the store because its wards were top-notch, but the back of the building was a northern exposure, and the overhang above the rear door could definitely be expanded.
"Huh," said Jamie, grabbing a Post-It off the counter and making a note to himself.
He'd make the offer later, see if they could figure out logistics.
For now, he still had three more boxes of books to shelve.
"Jim, you cannot possibly be this dense!"
Unrepentant, Jim grinned. "Can too. I sink like a rock."
Douxie glared at him from behind his hand. "That's not what I meant, and you know it." A few seconds. Then, "Really?"
"Yup. Claire and I snuck into a motel pool at like 3am in Utah, or someplace, to test it." Jim spread his hands. "I can swim fine as a human, but as a half-troll?" His hand turned into a fist and fell to his leg, illustrating the sinking like a rock thing. "Sploosh."
"Huh." Douxie seemed to turn that over in his mind. "Remind me to get you on a scale, when we get home. I want to run some density calculations."
"Now you sound like Krel."
Douxie pulled a face. "Do not insult Krel that way."
Jim paused. "You... have a self-esteem problem," he said slowly, testing.
"Good of you to notice," Douxie sassed back.
"I'm serious, Doux."
"So am I," said the master wizard. He sighed, and slid down the wall of the treehouse until he was seated, gangly legs crossed, on the dirt floor. "Look, I know I have imposter syndrome. But the point of being part of a cadre of brilliant, talented individuals is that I'm well aware I can't even do sophomore level math, despite being nine hundred plus. That I've been stuck in customer service jobs for centuries, even after I finally got my mastery." Douxie took a deep breath in, and met Jim's eyes. "That Claire outstrips me on every level but breadth - and when she inevitably makes the choice to broaden her magical horizons, I will very quickly have little left to teach her. As it is, I can't even teach you to feel a simple magnetic field, something that /should/ be so intrinsic you don't even have to think about it. So." He ticked points off on his fingers. "Failure as a student. As a son. As a teacher."
"Douxie-"
"And," Douxie said, with the air of someone going in for the kill, "failure as a master wizard. I literally handed the Genesis Seals over to Bellroc and Skrael, was unable to keep Nari safe, and basically did jack-all to prevent the end of the world."
Jim wanted to argue back about Douxie's self-worth and his own failure to prevent Nari's death, not to mention Toby's, but something held him back.
He blinked, realizing what. Oh.
"Why are you in a depressive spiral?" he asked after a minute, his voice soft.
Douxie breathed a laugh and hung his head. "Blazes if I know."
Jim shifted off the bed and moved to sit by Douxie. "Is it because Archie's not here?"
"Maybe," Douxie said to his lap. "Or maybe it's because I'm off my meds. Who knows."
"Oh." Jim hadn't even considered that. But... "It's only been four days," he said. "Does withdrawal kick in that fast?"
Douxie shrugged.
Jim sighed, tipping his head back so that it rested against the wall. "What usually helps?" he asked quietly.
"Archie," Douxie replied. Which was not helpful, and he clearly knew it, because next he offered, "Playing music. Or listening to it."
Neither of which was really an option right now. "And I'm not musical at all," Jim murmured.
"I could teach you some sea shanties," offered Douxie. Jim looked sidelong at him; a hint of a smile quirked Douxie's lips. "Point of those always was that anyone could sing them."
"What do you do with a drunken troll?" asked Jim.
Douxie's smile widened just a hair. "Put him next to the Heartstone and wait for him to sober up?" he suggested. Then he blinked, paired fingers hovering in midair. "What... does the Heartstone feel like, to you?" he asked. Something in his tone made Jim suspect Douxie was chasing an idea.
"Um." Jim thought about it. "When I'm a human, not all that much?" he guessed. "I mean, it's warm to the touch, but..."
"And when you're a troll?"
That, Jim didn't even have to think about. "Warm. Safe." Relaxing, he thought, his shoulders lowering at the memory of that radiated sense of welcome.
"And you know where it is?" Douxie asked. "I can feel it twenty miles out from downtown. What about you?"
"Oh yeah. Easily." The Heartstone in New Jersey, for as little time as Jim had been there, hadn't had nearly as much of a pull on him. But then, it had been way smaller.
Douxie's expression turned contemplative. "What about the Heart of Avalon, under Camelot?"
Jim blinked. "That wasn't a Heartstone. Was it?"
Douxie shrugged. "Not sure. It certainly emanated magic. But Merlin never vouchsafed me where he got it from, and what, or how, he'd done to it."
"Huh." Jim cast his memory back to his time in Camelot's dungeons. Back then, he'd thought Callista and all the other trolls were apathetic out of despair. But if there had been a Heartstone buried under their very feet, keeping them calm... He couldn't be sure. "I don't know. It definitely wasn't as warm as the one in Trollmarket, if it was one." Is one. Would be one. Time travel was a pain in the tenses.
Douxie nodded. "All right. So, Heartstones are like lodestones, then. You can always feel the tug telling you where they are, right?"
"Yeah." Jim nodded.
Douxie smiled. "And do you know what another word for 'lodestone' is?"
Jim shook his head.
The smile became a full-fledged grin. "'Magnet'," Douxie said simply.
Jim blinked.
"Close your eyes," Douxie said quietly. "And just feel, all right? Just feel for something that feels like a Heartstone. That... certainty," he said, like he was almost unsure how to describe the feeling. "Feel for your lodestone, Jim."
Jim closed his eyes and obeyed, trying.
It wasn't easy.
Even in the treehouse, there were distractions. The wood creaking as branches far above caught the wind, swaying the treetop. The crackling of their small fire. Douxie's quiet breathing. Even the beat of Jim's own heart, too slow for a human, too fast for a troll.
Beneath him was dirt. He could feel it with his fingertips. It was oddly grounding. He flashed a smile, tucking that pun away to tell Toby, or maybe Blinky, sometime later.
There wasn't a Heartstone here, not in the forest. Not anywhere Jim could feel it. Nothing warm and welcoming, drawing him in...
But there was something else, he realized. Not as strong a pull as Trollmarket's Heartstone. Not even as strong as New Jersey's. But a nagging sense there was something in that direction, and if he just walked and walked and walked forever, he might find it.
Jim opened his eyes, raised a hand, pointed at a wall. "That way?" he asked.
Douxie smiled, and slugged him lightly on the shoulder. "Magnetic north," he confirmed. "Well done, Jim."
Omega lurched from the regen chamber, claws scrabbling at the wall as she fought to stabilize herself. All around her wafted the smell of burnt circuits and half-slagged wiring. The dents in various panels spoke to Beta's lack of patience, and skill.
Still, they were alive, as Alpha was not.
A high, thin keening wanted to break from her throat at the loss, but she clamped down on it and staggered her way across the room and down the corridor, seeking her remaining brother.
She found Beta facedown on the table in the mess room. Around him were scattered delsons' worth of meal packs. And several bottles of inebriants.
Alpha had always insisted those were to be left for the completion of successful missions.
Alpha was dead.
Omega dropped into the seat opposite Beta, and willed the room to stop swaying. It was making her sick.
The room did not stop swaying.
Growling, she dug talons into the table.
Alpha never would have allowed that, either. He had a thing about table manners. Which she and Beta had used to find hilarious.
It was hilarious no longer.
"Beta!" Her fist slammed on the table. "Wake up!"
He snorted, and raised a bleary head.
"Omega...?" he asked. He half-leaned half-fell over, looking under the table. "Your tail..."
"Never mind that," she grated. The appendage had grown back short and stumpy. Truncated. Insufficient. She would train, and learn to move without its grace. "What has happened while I've been recuperating?"
Beta growled. "The Akiridion brats did something to the ship. We're almost drifting dead."
"And you didn't call the moon base for help?"
A snort and a glare. Which, Omega admitted, was fair enough. They'd be set on by remorseless scavengers the moment she and Beta showed a hint of weakness.
"And Alpha?"
Beta's eyes slid away. "In the bay. Didn't want to do the funeral without you," he admitted.
Omega softened enough to lay a clawed hand on his arm. "Thank you. You did the best you could."
Which was when a piercing beeping came from the console.
Stretching, Omega was just able to snag a tablet, drawing it to herself and shutting off the noise remotely. She scanned the incoming data. Her eyes widened. "The contract's still unclaimed."
Beta growled. "On the Akiridion brats?"
"And their parents." Beta scanned further. "Morando's sent some sort of upgraded Blank to the planet. It's found the Mothership, but can't get past its defenses."
Beta's hands drew into fists. "We finish the contract," he snarled.
Omega nodded. "And kill those brats." After all, the contract did state Dead or Alive.
Standing, she forced herself to a balance. "I'm getting to work," she said, heading toward the bridge. "Clean up in here."
Despite the long day tramping through the woods, staying at high tension in case Herne decided to pay a call, sleep didn't come easy to Jim that night. His brain kept turning over things. Mainly Douxie's sort of breakdown earlier.
The problem was, Jim thought, breathing out through his nose, that he didn't actually know what being familiars meant for Douxie and Archie. Was being separated for this long causing more mental problems for Douxie?
Douxie was working so hard, taking care of the both of them physically. It was the least Jim could do, to try to step up and help him mentally.
If only he knew how.
He suddenly remembered Douxie's expression, in the canceled future, when he'd learned Archie had been locked up inside Hong Kong Trollmarket. And how Douxie had just swallowed that down.
Jim breathed, getting a bad feeling about how things might have played out for Douxie, if Jim hadn't shortly thereafter used the Uno Reverse Card known as the Chronosphere. "Have you ever been apart from him this long before?"
Laying back to back with Jim, Douxie let out a long sigh. "A few times. When I was studying under Merlin, Archie would go scouting sometimes." His voice was quiet. "I figured out a lot later that he was visiting his dad."
"How long was he gone?"
"A few days," came the admission. "Once... almost a week." Douxie swallowed. "Halfway through, I made a poppet."
"A poppet?" Jim turned over.
Douxie didn't. "You'd call it a plushie, I suppose. Bought some black wool and thread in the market. Took near every coin I had saved up. Sewed a little dragon. Stitched on some eyes with yellow thread, some glasses with gray." He breathed out. "I was very young."
"Did it help?" Jim asked.
Douxie shook his head. "Hardly any," he admitted. "What about you? You ever been separated from Toby?"
"I don't think that's the same thing."
"Isn't it?" Douxie rolled onto his back, looked up at the ceiling. "He's far more your brother than I am, for all that you two couch it in words like 'best friends'."
"I think you're getting the wrong idea about me and Tobes' friendship."
"Am I?" Douxie raised an eyebrow. "You turned back time for him, Jim. That's not nothing."
Jim opened his mouth to argue the point, but realized he really didn't want to get into that argument right now. Huffing, he thumped his head back down onto the mattress. "Not the point. But, no, we never really got separated. I usually went on vacation with him and his Nana. Or he came with Mom and me to Disneyland."
Douxie hmm'd tonelessly. "Not even summer camp separations, then."
"Nope."
"Perhaps I should be asking how you're handling it, then."
Jim looked at his brother. "Toby may be my best friend," he said quietly, "but I don't have some sort of mystical soul bond with him like you've got with Archie. So I'm worrying, Doux."
Douxie was silent for a long minute. Finally he spoke again. "I won't be the weak link, Jim. Don't worry about me." And he turned on his side again, facing away from Jim.
"That's not what I meant," Jim said, "and you know it." He turned away also.
Back to back with Douxie, sleep eventually claimed him. However uncomfortably.
Author's Note: Sopa came up with the idea of Douxie sleeping with a plushie, which I absconded with here.
