Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 1st October 2021

Jim was staring at the calendar, trying to juggle four people's schedules so they could plan out trips to Gatto's Keep, the Quagawumps, and Merlin's Tomb, when he noticed it.

"Mom?" he called.

"Yes, honey?" her voice came back from upstairs.

"Is Douxie messing around with his work schedule?"

"What?" He heard her feet on the stairs and a moment later she came into the kitchen.

Jim pointed at the calendar. "Is Douxie messing around with his work schedule?" he repeated.

"Oh. Yeah. He didn't tell you?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Tell me what?"

"That he was cutting back," she said, like it was obvious.

Jim blinked. "But he's a workaholic," he said.

His mom looked skeptical. "Out of necessity, Jim. But now he's got a stable living situation, and some pretty important things to take care of, so he's prioritizing those." Her eyes flicked to the calendar. "Inasmuch as someone still working a forty-two hour work week with no benefits or health coverage, and band practice on top of that, can."

"He told me wizards don't really get sick," Jim said. "Something to do with the magic burning through things faster or something."

"Doesn't stop him from getting hurt on the job or hit by a car," his mom reasonably pointed out.

Jim grimaced. "Given what I've seen him walk off... I'm not even sure that would slow him down."

"Jim." His mother's eyes were fast on him from behind her glasses. "When the two of you said he was dead for a couple minutes, what did you actually mean by 'dead'?"

Jim grimaced. "Um. No pulse, not breathing. I'm pretty sure bones aren't supposed to bend in the middle. And, um..."

"Jim."

"I'm also pretty sure people's brains are supposed to stay inside their heads."

His mom's hand covered her mouth. Her eyes were wide.

"If it helps," Jim said lowly, "he didn't know it was that bad until I told him a couple nights ago."

"That does not help," she said. "And he came back from that?"

"I don't think he knows how either," said Jim. "According to him, he was spending time in the celestial waiting room, which he said looked like Merlin's workshop in Camelot. But," he added with emphasis, "the next time he does something really stupid or self-sacrificial, I plan to ask him if he's sure all his brain cells got back inside his skull before it healed up."

"You seem pretty sure he's going to do that."

Jim gave his mother a level stare. "He's Douxie," he said. "The only person more likely to do that kind of thing is..." he trailed off.

"You?" she said.

"Well, yeah," he acknowledged.

"You know," she said, "suddenly I'm not so sure about letting you two go gallivanting around the globe."

Jim smiled. "That's why we're taking adult trolls with. They get to be the voices of reason."

"Three adult trolls and one dragon versus four human teenagers," she said dryly. "I'm not convinced they'll be enough to slow you down."

Jim grinned. "Yeah, but they out-mass and out-strength us, so it ends up pretty much a draw."


And somehow, in the middle of all the planning to save the world, Jim had genuinely forgotten that he was going to be in the running for Spring Fling King.

"What the-" he choked off. "Again? Who the heck decides these things, anyway?"

"I think the teachers put names in a hat," Toby said. "Bet you Strickler put yours in to mess with you."

Jim rolled his eyes but couldn't fault his best friend's logic. "Not sure if it's to mess with me or not, Tobes," he said. "But regardless. You going to ask Darci to the dance this time?"

"Man, I am going to woo her!" Toby declared. He elbowed Jim not-too-subtly in the side. "You going to ask Claire?"

"Actually," Claire said, coming up to them as the assembly broke up, "I was going to ask him."

"Invitation accepted," Jim said, smiling and taking her hands.

"You going to go with 'Mole Mania' again?" she asked.

"Eh." He shrugged. "It worked last time, and unlike Steve, I really don't care about being King."

"Tell that to Douxie," muttered Toby.

Jim and Claire both snickered. "He's old-fashioned. He did grow up in the dark ages, after all," said Jim.

"Besides," Claire said, "given we've got a genuine prince and princess showing up in a couple months, I'd say maybe Jim being a king isn't that far-fetched after all."

He groaned. "Not you too."

Claire gave him a peck on his cheek. "I've got to flit. We on for this weekend?"

"I think so," said Jim. "Doux dropped some of his shifts at Benoit's, so he's free from after band practice on Saturday, until Monday morning."

"Then Argentina it is." She said the country's name with the rolled "r" that he could never quite manage, and, with a wink, turned to go.


"All right, class," said Mister Strickler, not wandering the classroom today as was his habit, but instead holding forth from in front of his desk, balancing himself with crutches as needed. His leg was in a soft cast: a reminder, instead of a reprimand. "Before you go, I have one further thing to say. The city museum is opening a new display today, on twelfth-century stonework and structures. However, Miss Nomura has expressed concern to me about the museum's lack of advertisement budget and subsequent low attendance numbers. Therefore, I am offering a special extra credit assignment. Anyone who goes to the exhibit can either write me a one-page single-spaced essay on what you saw and what you learned, or you can show me how you've documented and dispersed knowledge of the exhibit on social media, and I will count that as well. Yes, Mister Pepperjack?"

"What if we do both?" asked Eli even as Jim and Toby exchanged glances.

Strickler smiled. "Then it may count as double extra credit. Class dismissed."

Jim lingered, Toby with him, until the room was empty.

"Ah, Mister Domzalski," Strickler said with a nod. "I will, of course, accept discussions of mineral analysis in your report."

"Why social media?" asked Jim.

Strickler's smile was a sharp slash. "Some of my brethren are being slow to accept Bular's passing. I seek to inform their narrow minds."

Toby chuckled, rubbing his hands together with a delighted expression. "Oooh, I like it!" he declared.

"I'm glad you approve," said their teacher dryly.

"Anything else you need help with?" asked Jim.

"Not yet," Strickler said. Then paused. "Excepting perhaps advice on how to repair things with Barbara, but I would not presume to ask her son to undercut his mother's will in such matters."

"Except you kind of are, by even bringing it up," Toby pointed out.

"Perhaps." Strickler's smile was enigmatic.

Jim sighed. "Look, I really would be willing to help you patch things up with Mom. But I think that it's just one of those things that's going to take time."

Strickler sighed. "It shall be as it shall be," he murmured. Then he refocused on Jim. "I would be interested, someday, in hearing the story of how you happened across Merlin's lost apprentice."

"Douxie?" Jim shrugged. "Not much to tell. I met him when he was handing out fliers for The Battle of the Bands. And then I really met him and found out what he was when we fell through a time rift," he said, wanting to see what Strickler made of that.

Strickler, strangely, didn't look the least surprised.

"...You already knew about the time rift, didn't you?" Jim asked slowly.

"Yes. Well." Strickler shifted around on his desk, reaching behind himself to open a drawer and pull out a book which both Jim and Toby instantly recognized. "I found myself doing some light reading while laid up over the weekend."

"The Book of Ga-Huel," said Toby.

"Indeed." Strickler opened it, turned pages, found the one he was looking for. Turned the book to show it to them.

It was a painting, clearly of Jim, clad in his new armor and wielding Excalibur.

Below, it was dated 501CE.

"What," said Jim, eyes wide.

Strickler raised inquisitive eyebrows.

"I've never even been to 501," Jim said, grabbing the book and bringing the picture to his nose, examining it as if the picture could tell him it was a lie.

"Aww, man, why do you get all the cool time travel adventures, Jimbo?" Toby complained.

"Trust me, Tobes, they're not all that fun." Jim handed the book back to Strickler and took out his phone. "Can I take a picture of this and send it to Douxie?"

"By all means," his teacher acquiesced. "I take it your aforementioned time travel trip was not to when this painting was made, then?"

"Not by a long shot," Jim said, snapping the picture and sending it off to the wizard with a note saying In the Book of Ga-Huel. WTF?!

"I hope someday you might see fit to tell me about the others, then," Strickler said, closing the book.

"Yeah, someday," Jim said numbly.

The bell rang, and the classroom door opened again, students from the next class starting to drift in. Toby yelped. "We gotta book it, Jim, or we're going to be late for gym!"

"Bye, Mister Strickler!" Jim said with a wave, letting himself be dragged away.


Following a flurry of texted plans, Douxie ended up meeting his friends at the museum after their school let out for the day. "Well, that's... something," he said, looking at the stone corpse of Bular.

"Yep," Toby concurred.

"Uh-huh," agreed Claire.

"Wow." Jim had his head cocked to one side, considering.

"Do you think Nomura's referencing Julius Caesar, or Abraham Lincoln?" Claire asked finally about the Trollish characters carved into Bular's chest. While the placard said they were as-yet untranslatable ancient graffiti, the four of them could clearly read the message: Thus Always To Tyrants.

"Let's hope Caesar," Douxie said, snapping a picture of the "statue" and uploading it to his Twitter with a musing question about whether it might be suitable for an album cover.

(Not that Ash Dispersal Pattern was doing an album yet, but they'd been talking about it for months now and he was just waiting for the scale to tip again. The first time around, they'd barely started recording before he'd had to flee with Nari. Hopefully this time he'd get to finish the project.)

Bular's corpse was one of the centerpieces of the museum exhibit. Minus his horned head, which had been deposited at the entrance of Trollmarket, the late Gumm-Gumm prince looked mostly like an idealized warrior, huge and bulky, with thick thighs and upper body musculature that put human bodybuilders to shame. Still, there were hints of his non-human nature in the flanges along his arms, his claws, the texture of his fur. The placard noted him as an early grotesque, though sculpted singularly and never, to any indications, attached to a church. His origins were given in twelfth-century Wales, and the loss of the statue's head was given as "date unknown."

All around them, Jim's classmates were taking pictures and uploading them to their own social media platforms. Somehow over the weekend Nomura had put together a nicely comprehensive presentation that included the decapitated Gumm-Gumm prince, Killahead Bridge, a Fetch, of all things, displayed in a glass case, and several other odds and sundries, most of which weren't, to Douxie's senses, magical at all. It was a fairly impressive display, especially given how fast it had been curated and arranged. And Strickler's offer of double extra credit was definitely doing its part in getting the word spread: Douxie could see Claire's girlfriend Mary, who he knew was a burgeoning influencer, doing a video post about the museum.

"Hey, want to walk across Killahead?" Toby asked. There was a line for it: only two people were allowed on the structure at a time. Lots were pausing at the top to have their friends take their pictures.

"Is walking over Killahead kind of like crossing the Rubicon?" Claire joked.

"Oh, I think we're all well past the commitment point," Douxie said. "But sure. Jim, you in?"

"I've been on, under, against, and through that bridge. Never been over it yet, though," Jim mused, blue eyes light with humor. "Sure, I'm up for a new experience."

They joined the queue just behind Claire's friends. "Hey, Darci, any chance you'd want to walk the bridge with me?" Toby asked, clearly trying to strike a balance between hopeful and playing it cool.

"I don't know..." she said, until Mary shoved at her.

"Oh, go ahead," she said, while looking covetously at Douxie. "Take a walk with him, Darce. You said he was cute."

The Black girl's eyes widened at this betrayal by her friend.

"Toby's a perfect gentleman," Douxie assured her.

"And it's a public venue, Darci," Claire chimed in. "Nothing's going to happen. Go on, give him a chance."

Darci looked back at Toby, who was definitely leaning more toward the side of hope now. "Well, sure. I'll give it a try, I guess."

"Yes!" Toby fist-pumped. "Wait, was that too weird?"

Douxie chuckled. "You must be Mary," he said to that girl. "Claire's talked quite a bit about you."

"Oh, has she now," the girl nearly purred.

He had to stifle a laugh. Most of what Claire had said had involved a long, ever-changing string of boyfriends, and judging by the girl's tone, he was her newest target.

She was very pretty. She was also way too young for him, way too fast for him, and more generally, way too amorous for him.

Still, a little flirting never hurt, so he leaned into his accent, as much to amuse his friends as anything else. "She says you're the school's social media queen."

"I am," Mary said, looking pleased. "I'm also in the running to be Spring Fling Queen."

"Sounds big," he said. "Who's your competition?"

"Darci," she said. "And Shannon Longhannon, ugh." She cast a look around the room and pointed out a sweet-faced girl wearing glasses.

"Well, may the best woman win," Douxie said as the line moved forward.

"Believe me, I intend to," she said.

"Hey, that's just mean!" Darci complained.

"Sorry, Darce. But it's my reputation on the line here. No holds barred."

Darci rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, you're going to win, Darci," Toby said loyally. And probably truthfully, though Douxie honestly had no idea who had won what at their school.

"How do they decide these things anyway?" Jim wondered. "I mean, there's three events for the guys, but only one for the girls? How is that fair?"

"It's weird," Darci agreed.

"Just about everything in Arcadia Oaks is weird," Toby concurred.

Mary scoffed. "Are you kidding? This is the most normal, boring town to live in on the planet! Anywhere's got to be more interesting than here."

"I wouldn't say that," Douxie put in, turning up the charm a notch and smiling directly at Mary. "I'd say things are pretty interesting right here."

Jim choked on a cough.

Douxie smirked at him, then dialed it back down to take pity on his friend. "Do you know what Claire sees in Jim?" he asked Mary.

She looked Jim up and down. "Not really," she said flatly.

"He's not very good at playing the game," Douxie said, half an answer to his own question, and half a tease.

But Mary's eyes widened as she looked at him, realizing what he'd given her: that they were both playing the flirting game, that it wasn't serious. That this was for fun, and nothing more. In her eyes, there was a flicker of disappointment, but also one of relief. Her expression morphed into a smile and she took Douxie's offered arm easily. "He's really not," she agreed.

Claire was sunny and unconcerned as she looped her arm through her boyfriend's. "Yeah, but he's a fantastic Romeo. Besides," she added, looking at Jim, "I kind of like it that he's terrible at flirting. It means everything he says to me is honest."

"Goals to aspire to," Douxie said as Toby and Darci climbed the bridge.

Jim and Claire went next, a moment later, then Douxie and Mary. As they paused at the top to take in the view, momentarily out of earshot of the others, she said quietly, "You're really not interested, are you?"

"Afraid not," Douxie replied. He smiled at her. "But I'm always in the market for a friend."

She blinked, then grinned back. "You know what? Me too." And taking his arm again, she led him down the other side of the bridge.


Author's Note: So in the fuzzy back of my brain I remembered reading something about Strickler seeing an old, old painting of Jim in his armor. But when I went looking, I found that was apparently from the Book of Ga-Huel novel. And it was really, really Jossed by Wizards. But I'd already built up a storyline in my head to go with the idea, and decided not to abandon it. (At some point Jim's going to get really sick of time travel. That will be at least his fourth rodeo, after all - Unbecoming, Camelot, and post-RotT being the first three.) Then the museum scene happened (so that's what Nomura was up to and plotting about with Bular's headless corpse! ta-da~!), and I somehow ended up with functionally-ace Douxie and amorous Mary friendship...? IDEK how my brain works sometimes.