Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet: Halloween Special
by K. Stonham
first released 31st October 2021

Waltolomew felt the desperate urge to bash his head against a stationary surface. Either his head, or perhaps the heads of some of his nominal subordinates. Why did they have to be so blindly loyal to a creature who would see them all dishonored, dismembered, and devoured if he came to power?

He fumed for a moment longer, staring blindly at the papers spread across the table before him. Until his vision suddenly focused on one hidden beneath the others, printed in black and orange ink on a white sheet of paper.

The beginnings of an idea tickling at his mind, he pulled the paper out and studied it. Then he smiled slowly and pulled out his phone, finding a phone number he had been entrusted with, but never before used.

He pressed "call."

The phone rang twice, then was picked up. In the background he could hear crashes and clashes. Anyone else, calling anyone else, might have thought them industrial background noise. Waltolomew did not make that mistake.

"Hello?" asked Hisirdoux Casperan.


Jim was having the hardest time coming up with a costume. He could always reuse his Romeo outfit, he thought. Get more than one night's wear out of Douxie's hard work. Or another route to go would be to wear his armor and go as a knight. He and Toby could totally match! But somehow both of those felt like taking the easy way out.

"It's an inversion festival," Archie lectured him. "You're supposed to go as something you're not, not as something you are."

"What are you going to be?" Jim shot back.

"A wizard," Archie replied.

Jim blinked. "And is Douxie going as a dragon?" he asked the dragon.

"Black cat, actually," said Douxie from where he was reading one of Blinky's books. He didn't look up from the page. "Didn't have the patience for figuring out how to rig wings."

"Argh!" Jim flopped back across the sofa. "Why is this so hard?"

"You make me glad I get to spend the night in scrubs, kiddo," his mom said. "Though I'm not looking forward to the usual Halloween madness." She paused and looked at all three of them. "Promise me you're not going to add to the ER's chaos."

"Promise," Jim said.

"Definitely not in the plans," Archie agreed.

"I'll be manning the fortune-telling booth in the park," said Douxie. "So my goal is to not get up to any magical hijinks whatsoever."

"Wait, like real fortune-telling, or...?" asked Jim, craning his neck.

Douxie shrugged. "A bit of both. Depends on what the customer wants and needs. Stagecraft means reading the room."

"Dressed as a black cat?"

Now Douxie looked up from his book. "What, am I supposed to dress up as Romani? I'm not one, and making a costume out of a culture is firstly disrespectful, and secondly a stereotype."

"You said you haven't even been back to your village for over nine hundred years," Jim said. "And your parents died when you were a kid. How do you know you're not?"

"The Romani diaspora had barely started by the time Douxie was born," Archie informed Jim. "The chances of any having reached Wales by that point are remarkably laughable."

"I've met a few," Douxie said. "They're a marvelous people, with some fantastic tricks to their music and magic that I loved learning from them. But overall they're no more magical than any other people. And they're not my people, so can we let that be an end to it?"

"You could be a pumpkin," Archie suggested to Jim. "Or a ghost."

"Did that in second grade," Jim said, staring at the ceiling as if the plaster would give him inspiration. "I was the ghost, Toby was the pumpkin."

"And you were both adorable," said his mom. "Nancy and I have the pictures to prove it."

"How about Gun Robot?" Douxie asked. "You could see if Claire wanted to be Sally-Go-Back, to match."

"Did that too," Jim said. "Fourth grade, me and Tobes again."

Douxie paused. "Which one were you?"

"Guess," Jim said sourly.

Douxie grinned wide. "Okay, I do want to see the pictures," he told Barbara.

"You laugh at me for being ten, and I will never talk to you again," Jim solemnly swore.

"I would never," Douxie replied.

Archie raised an eyebrow. "I might."

"Do you even remember being ten?" Douxie asked the dragon. "It's horrible no matter what century you're in."

"I was homeschooled," Archie told his familiar. "Imagine being ten with Charlemagne the Devourer your main companion."

"Come off it, you love your dad."

"Yes, but I would have loved some company my own age once in a while."

"Argh," Jim repeated himself, laying his arm over his eyes. "Still no costume idea!"

His mom pursed her lips, then said "I have one."

"Mmm?" Jim asked, not moving his arm.

"Addams Family," she said.

Jim blinked and raised his arm slightly.

"We can see if we can get you a suit, slick your hair back with some product," she suggested.

"I've got makeup for whiskers, I can draw you on a pencil mustache," said Douxie.

"You could ask Claire if she'd like to be Morticia," said Archie.

"And I bet Toby would love to be Fester," said Jim, his eyes widening and his arm falling to the side. "That could work. That could definitely work."


"Ah, yes, the sacred human festival of 'Hallowed Ween'," said Blinky. "I have long heard of its delights. Though what a 'ween' is, and why it is hallowed, I must confess, continues to escape me."

"Ahhhh..." Toby said, looking at Jim for how, exactly, they wanted to address that. Douxie had specifically mentioned inviting the trolls to the town square festival, but his evening shift at the cafe meant Toby and Jim were the ones actually delivering the invite.

"I don't think the name comes from 'hallowed ween'," Jim said. "Though, you know, I'm not actually sure what it does come from."

"Ask Douxie or Archie maybe?" Toby suggested.

"And excellent suggestion," said Blinky. "But as to my, Aaarrrgghh's, and Draal's participation in such a festival-"

"It's a costume holiday," Jim cut in, before their mentor could get any further. "Everyone's supposed to dress up, wander around, and collect candy. So you guys would totally blend in."

Blinky blinked.

"Sounds fun," Aaarrrgghh offered.

"Well, I, that is," Blinky floundered. "Really?" he finally asked.

"Totally!" said Toby. "We're trying to talk Strickler and Nomura into going in their troll forms, so you guys wouldn't even be the only ones!"

"It sounds fascinating," said Blinky softly. He looked at Aaarrrgghh's hopeful expression, then smiled. "Yes. We would love to attend your festival and learn more about Hallowed Ween."

Jim coughed softly into his fist. "Yeah, maybe we should get Douxie to talk with you guys about the name before then..."


Hisirdoux was just finishing hanging the last few of the solar-powered twinkle lights in his fortunetelling booth when he heard a cough followed by "So can you really tell people's fortunes?"

He turned, delighted. "Mary! And Darci," he added. He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so Sally-Go-Back I can see," he said about the Black girl's costume. "Mary, I'm at a bit of a loss, though."

"I'm a queen," she explained herself.

"Indeed you are," Douxie replied. "I just wasn't sure if you were supposed to be a specific one."

"Nope. Just me. Queen Mary."

He had to grin. "Do you know how many Queen Marys there've been over the centuries? Lots."

"Well, I'm the newest one," she told him. "Social media queen Mary."

"To answer your question, yes, I can tell fortunes," he answered. "You want to be my first customers?"

The girls looked at each other. "Sure," Darci said. She studied the price list - ten dollars for a tarot reading, five for a crystal ball session, one for palmistry. There was a small sign by the prices denoting that all funds raised went to the nearby children's hospital. "I'll go for the crystal ball," she said, dropping a note into the cash box.

"Me too," said Mary, putting in another fiver.

"Well, then, please step into the room of fortune," said Hisirdoux, showing them back behind the heavy light-blocking curtain.

He picked up the crystal orb that was on a shelf in the corner of the room and set it on what was actually a folding card table hidden beneath a black tablecloth. The chairs on either side were cheap folding lawn chairs, which he personally thought broke the ambiance, but you had to work with what you had.

He'd certainly told true fortunes under worse conditions.

Looking across the table at the two teenage girls, he took a moment to think sincerely about them - what he knew on his own behalf, and what his friends had told him. They were Claire's best friends. And, eventually, Aja's. Plus one of them was, or would be, dating the Trollhunter...

It was perhaps time, he thought, for them to get a taste of what lay under the mundane veneer of Arcadia Oaks.

"All right," Hisirdoux said, wreathing his hands in witchlight as the girls' eyes widened, "let's see what the future holds."


Toby was of two minds. On one hand, it felt like they were too old to be wandering the streets asking for candy. On the other hand, free candy. And Toby admitted he, Jim, and Claire were totally rocking the Addams Family look. (Even if Chompsky had refused to dress up as Thing and join their group; the gnome had insisted on having a quiet night at home with Sally-Go-Back, watching horror movies together. Whatever; different strokes for different folks and all that.)

"Ready to go hit up the town square?" Claire asked, eyeing the level of candy in her plastic bucket. It was half-full, a decent haul for the hour.

"Sure," said Jim. "Let's go down Tenyai Lane on the way there and then we can come back up Waltke Way on the way back?"

"Ooh, hitting two streets instead of one, I like it." Toby rubbed his hands together.

"We've got about half an hour before we're supposed to meet Blinky and Aaarrrgghh," Claire said, checking her phone.

"Plenty of time, then," said Jim.


By the time they'd gone around the square, collecting candy from all the shops, it was time to meet with the trolls. Douxie's friend Zoe had been outside HexTech, handing out treats while dressed as a very pink witch. "If I hear one more person ask me if I'm a good witch or a bad one," she warned, pointing at them with a very pointy pink manicured nail.

"Well, obviously you're wicked," Claire said.

Zoe's face broke out in a grin. "Damn straight I am," she said, and dropped an extra mini-bar into Claire's bucket.

"Hey, time to go find people," Jim said.

"Have fun, cuties!" Zoe called as they crossed the blocked-off street and made for the tent where Douxie was working.

"Oh wow," Claire said as it came in view. There was a line half a dozen people deep, waiting.

"Was not expecting that," said Toby.

"Should we join the line?" asked Jim.

"Why not?" Claire looped her arm through his and they all walked to the back of the queue, settling in right behind...

"Steve?" asked Jim, staring.

"What up, buttsnacks?" he asked them.

Claire blinked a few times. "Nice costume," she offered lamely. She could not, for the life of her, remember what he'd worn for sophomore year Halloween the first time around. But the fact that he was now dressed up as a knight seemed a little too coincidental somehow.

"Yeah! Sir Steve!" he said, posing. "What are you losers supposed to be?"

"I'm a homicidal maniac," Toby said straight-faced. "They look just like everyone else."

Jim chortled. "That's Wednesday's line," he told Toby.

Who shrugged. "Eh, it fits all of them."

The line moved, albeit slowly. "Weren't Blinky and Aaarrrgghh supposed to meet us here?" Toby asked.

"Yeah. They're not usually late," said Claire. She fished her phone out of a probably-not-strictly-accurate pocket in her slinky dress and shot off a text: We're at Douxie's booth. Where are you guys?

An ecstatic-looking Señor Uhl, dressed as Frankenstein's monster, exited the booth. Blinky's text came on his heels: We have been roped into a costume contest.

"Seriously?" asked Jim, looking over her shoulder.

"Man, I hope they win," said Toby.

"Enter," said Douxie's soft voice from ahead of them. "And seek your fortune."

"I'm up!" said Steve. "Catch you later, losers."

"Okay, I gotta eavesdrop on this," said Jim, and all three of them fell silent, straining to hear what Douxie was going to tell Steve.


Douxie spread Steve's left hand out. Strong fingers - wasn't it the football team he was on? - with neatly trimmed blunt nails. "A strong heart line," he noted, tracing that feature lightly with his own finger. Steve's hand twitched. "You love deeply and well. And, here, I see a deep loyalty to friends and family, even when they may have betrayed you." Anger washed over Steve's face; Hisirdoux continued before he could speak. "But, remember," he said, thinking of Charlie, "family isn't only who you have, it's also who you're with."

Steve's expression still held pain, but now also a note of thoughtfulness. Looking into his palm, into his future, Douxie had to raise an eyebrow and internally laugh a little. "There's a great love before you," he said. "A traveler from far away, with strength, beauty, and a heart to match your own."

"Yeah, right." Steve's words were doubtful and scornful, but there was a crack in his expression that spoke of hope.

"I would not tell you false, friend," Douxie told him, curling Steve's fingers back to cover his palm again. "Wait and see how it comes to be."

Steve shoved up from the chair and walked out of the booth, a dichotomy in action: his strides full pride and anger, but the curl of his body revealing something significantly more vulnerable.

"That was cheating," someone accused.

Douxie looked up to see three of his favorite people, and grinned. "Was it truly?" he asked Toby. "After all, it might very well be that his palm did say that."

Claire narrowed her eyes. "Did it?"

"Yes," Douxie told her.

Jim sighed. "Half the time I can't tell if you're teasing us or not."

"His palm truly did say that," Douxie assured him. "So. Any of you three want a reading?"

They exchanged glances. "Probably not?" asked Toby.

"Looking at the future doesn't seem like a good idea, given we're trying to change it," said Claire.

"Fair enough," admitted Hisirdoux. Suddenly a small black cat with eyeglasses, wearing a blue cape and wizard's hat, both decorated with silver moons and stars, jumped on his lap.

"Hey, Archie!" said Toby. "Nice costume."

"Thank you." The disguised dragon washed a paw over one ear. "I am never wearing it again."

"We'll just find you a dragon costume for next year," Douxie said cheerfully. "Maybe you can talk me into matching."

"No thank you."

Mischief suddenly sparked. "Lady and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce my lovely assistant-"

"Douxie, don't," Archie said.

"-ahem, associate, the magical Mister Mistoffeles."

Jim and Toby both looked blank. But Claire blinked then asked "What, like in Cats?"

"Like in Cats indeed," said Hisirdoux. "He is quiet, he is small, he is black, from his ears to the tip of his tail," he sang softly, running his hand down soft black fur even as Archie tried to pretend he didn't exist. "He can creep through the tiniest crack; he can walk on the narrowest rail."

"Stop, please," Archie begged. "Please."

"All right," Douxie relented. "Not my fault Tom wanted to immortalize you."

"Wait, seriously like in Cats?" asked Claire.

"Seriously like in Cats," Douxie confirmed. "Archie's famous. Or infamous."

"Ahh, here you are!" a familiar voice boomed. Blinky and Aaarrrgghh came into view at the entrance of the tent.

"Hey, how was the costume contest?" asked Toby.

Douxie blinked. "Costume contest?"

"My dearest compatriot here triumphed!" Blinky said with glee, gesturing at Aaarrrgghh, who did indeed have a ribbon dangling from one of his horns. "Your mother," he said to Claire, "was amazed at his 'costume' and could not believe how lifelike it was."

Smiles and chuckles darted around the booth. Even Archie deigned to laugh.

"Congrats, Aaarrrgghh," Douxie said, standing as Archie darted up to his shoulder. "But it's time for you lot move on. I've got some actual business to conduct here tonight."

Jim paused. "Business?"

"Mister Strickler," said Douxie softly, "may have given me a list of targets. People who've had a certain great disruption in their lives recently," he said with weight, "and may need some help moving on to a new point of view on matters."

Everyone exchanged glances. "Uh, so are you going to..." Toby trailed off, wriggling his fingers to indicate magic. Probably magic compulsion.

Douxie snorted. "Of course not. I don't do that. But what I am going to do is give them some interestingly accurate readings, some sympathy, and see if I can psychoanalyze them into enjoying the world that is."

"And maybe point out there are undisguised trolls and changelings wandering the park tonight, and that they should perhaps feel free to join them and... talk," Archie added.

"That too."

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh both blinked. "Ah, so that is why you requested our and Draal's presence tonight."

"Perhaps. Plus I honestly thought you'd enjoy it," Douxie replied. "Now, shoo. I have changelings to convince."

And as they did, and Archie slipped down from his shoulder, Douxie finally saw his first mark: the woman who was apparently Toby's dental assistant. "Milady," he called to her, "care for a reading? All proceeds go to charity."

As she came closer, lured by the attention, the offer, and the chance to be seen doing good, he let a smile grow on his face, as one thought came to mind.

Showtime.


It was late enough that the Halloween festival was truly winding down by the time Waltolomew made his way to the fortunetelling booth. Barely half a dozen revelers remained in the park. Casperan, a pair of black cat ears perched atop his head, was taking down the fairy lights from the interior of his booth, humming as he did. It took a minute for the tune to place, then Waltolomew recognized it as Night on Bald Mountain.

"Time for one more reading?" he asked.

The wizard turned, smiling slightly. His cat tail twitched, looking almost natural; Waltolomew wondered briefly if he'd enchanted it. "Of course." He abandoned his lights and gestured to the chairs. "What's your fancy?"

"A simple palm reading will suffice." Waltolomew held out a dollar; Casperan made it disappear into the cash box.

"Nice 'costume'," he said, briefly examining both of Waltolomew's hands before taking the left.

"Señor Uhl complimented me on it as well," he felt the need to defend his natural troll appearance. "And Miss Janeth attempted to rope me in to helping with the next drama production."

Casperan laughed. "I've only met her once, but that seems quite on-point."

"Indeed."

"I see that you've recently been involved in a great endeavor," the wizard murmured. "A big upheaval, here." He tapped at one of the pads on the changeling's palm. Waltolomew neither knew nor much cared if palmistry was a real study, but he regardless commended Casperan's commitment to verisimilitude as a finger delicately traced along the lines of his hand. "I foresee success ahead of you."

Waltolomew relaxed. "I take it all went well, then?" he asked sotto voce.

The wizard's grin was sharp, somehow vicious but kind at the same time. "Did my best. I can't guarantee they'll all rethink things, but I think most will."

"Excellent."

Casperan looked back to his hand. "You should ask me about your love life," he advised, still smiling.

Waltolomew resisted the urge to snatch his hand back. "Some things," he said, "should be discovered on their own."

Casperan acknowledged that with a nod. "I'll give you one other thing that your palm reveals of your future, though."

"Oh?" He arched an eyebrow.

"You're shortly to come into family," said the wizard, and let him go.

Waltolomew cradled his just-read hand in the other, and looked at Casperan, who, for all his youthful appearance, was still centuries older than himself. "How much of your readings is true?" And how much was chicanery, the question implied.

Another grin. "Like all magic, palmistry's part art, and part science," said the wizard. "I will give you this, though: I've told you no lie."


Author's Note: This side story is set several chapters back in the story. Probably somewhere after chapter 33, since that's when Douxie first met Darci and Mary, but before chapter 37, since that's when Merlin showed up. (Which is why Strickler herein refers to Douxie as "Casperan" even though he's since relaxed enough about him to refer to him as "Hisirdoux.") And, yes, I threw shade on the idea of Douxie as Romani, which really doesn't work out time/locationwise for his origin, and also seems to me to be lazy writing leaning on a sterotype - "Oh, a magic kid, he must be Romani!" But mostly I just wanted to write a Halloween chapter. I hope you enjoyed it, and had a good Halloween!