Neb: Last chapter Vincent was payed a visit from Mr. Elite. Apparently the old immortal wants recognition for being a god, but more so than that, he wants an opposing force to his own power. He had challenged Vincent to grow stronger in the ways of magic and one day the two of them will wage war on each other. Vincent, for obvious reasons, does not like that idea. He had been trying to make a name for himself as an adventurer, but had has no luck finding adventuring jobs. Then he got normal jobs and watched one of them go up in smoke as he was attacked by an Enforcer of Order. It's not looking good for Vincent, and eventually he'll have to let go of his pride and start seeking help through others. For now, I do not own Ducktales. I hope you enjoy the story.
Mrs. Beakley made her way down towards the Docks of Duckburg, Vincent's usual hiding spot. He was very cryptic in his call about needing help. Given he stated that he didn't even really know the situation he was in. First off, she was surprised to be the first one Vincent would call for help, given he had his own guardians to look after him. At least, she had always assumed that. As she headed over to the docks she saw Vincent hanging outside of a bait and tackle shop. She headed over to him and sat down. "Alright Vincent, what is this about?". Mrs. Beakley wondered.
"Well first off, thank you for coming," Vincent nodded as he kept glancing over his shoulder. "Second off, you didn't tell anyone else about this meeting did you?"
"Webby knows," Mrs. Beakly stated. "Not that you are in trouble, but that I was coming down here to see you."
"Ok good, good," Vincent agreed. He glanced over his shoulder again as he thought he saw a pair of rabbit ears, but it was just a man wearing a bandana. He sighed in relief and turned back to her.
"What has gotten you on edge young man?", Mrs. Beakley wondered. She noticed the boy was covered in scrapes and burn marks and he now wore a pair of white gloves over his hands. "Does this have to do with your powers?"
"Yes and no... actually yes and yes," Vincent sighed. "It always has to do with them. Mr. Elite is still gunning for me, I've told you all this before."
"We did drop a cave on your old mercenary crew," Mrs. Beakley remembered. "Is there any other reason besides that?"
"Not for Britt," Vincent shook his head. "But she's not a problem anymore, Mr. Elite stopped her. He... he's far stronger than I'd ever imagined. He took me down like I was nothing and his powers are only growing. I... I want to bring the fight back to him, but I can't do that alone. Artifact hasn't come back yet! The shop always came back whenever I was in trouble!"
"That's why Mr. Elite has become some bold," Mrs. Beakley figured. "Your short on allies."
"That was Britt and Quinn's reasoning," Vincent shook his head. "They thought Scrooge was killed by Gold Fever."
"Oh right," Mrs. Beakley rubbed the sides of her head as she remembered the obvious lessen behind that story. "At least you had the sense to call me. Unfortunately, I don't think now is the time to be fighting with Mr. Elite. It looks like you lost your last battle, so you need time to recover... are you bleeding again?"
Vincent looked down at his shirt and sighed as he adjusted it. He remembered that Quinn had cut him with his Katana. "The rabbit sibling were relentless," Vincent explained.
"So it wasn't the bears this time?", Mrs. Beakley nodded.
"Who cares who it was?", Vincent growled. "Next time it could be the Fang Bros, the time after it could be the Pig Gentlem, heck eventually it could be one of your enemies like the Beagles or Magica!"
"Let me get you to a hospital Vincent," Mrs. Beakley decided. "I'll call Mr. McDuck and he can help you."
"That's what he wants," Vincent grunted. "Mr. Elite has a sick game planned for Scrooge, he thinks they are rivals!"
"Relax yourself young man," Mrs. Beakley sighed. "Make sure your crystals aren't ignited."
Vincent looked at his runes and then sighed in relief. "Sorry about that," Vincent nodded. "I keep forgetting that my emotions now set them off. I've now strayed from Order, and now Quinn wants my head."
"I don't know who Quinn is," Mrs. Beakley shook her head. "Is he the one who hurt you or was it Mr. Elite?"
"Quinn gave me the physical wound," Vincent explained. "Mr. Elite has damaged my pride... again! Everytime I run into him I keep getting the wind knocked out of my chest. How do you guys deal with having so many enemies."
"Well it helps to have a well fortified home," Mrs. Beakley explained. "The wound really doesn't look good Vincent, please let me get it treated. It looks like you've ignored it for a while." It was difficult to tell when the color was leaving a Duck's face given their feathers are in the way, but it was obvious that Vincent wasn't well. "What would Webby think if she saw you like this?"
"That's why I called you," Vincent grunted. "I didn't want Webby to see me like this... again. I... I need someone with experience."
"You need to be treated and rest," Mrs. Beakley explained again. "Please don't make me repeat myself again. Even if the two of us went to go take on your foe together, you are in no condition to fight and I do not wish to carry you along the way."
"I... I understand that but," Vincent grunted as he grabbed his chest. "Ok, I'll go to a hospital. I'm usually more logical than this, sorry."
"You've got an adrenaline rush going from your previous encounters," Mrs. Beakley explained. "It's effecting your decision making." She got up from her seat of the table and helped Vincent out of his.
"Y.. your strong," Vincent realized as she slung one of his arms over her shoulder and steadily walked with him away from the docks.
"Will you make it to the Hospital like this or should I call an ambulance?", Mrs. Beakley wondered.
"I can't afford an ambulance," Vincent shook his head.
"Again with this young man," Mrs. Beakley sighed. "We are more than willing to pay off your ambulance ride and your hospital bills. I know Mr. McDuck doesn't appear this way at first glance, but he is a generous man when it counts."
"I've never heard a story about him being generous," Vincent responded. "Not from anyone I've ever talked to."
"Well believe it young man," she smiled. "He saves every penny he can yes, but the only reason isn't just to maintain his wealth. That's a big portion of it yes, but the other reason is if someone he cares about is in trouble he always has enough money to spend to help them."
"They never advertise that version of Scrooge," Vincent chuckled. "You know, my old man always looked up to him. Every night he would try to find a shortcut that would make him as rich as Scrooge."
"That was his first mistake," Mrs. Beakley nodded. "Scrooge never takes shortcuts. Just like you."
"Like me?", Vincent responded, but then mentally facepalmed himself for responding like that. Of course she was talking about Vincent's pride and how he was willing to get a job and live on the streets rather than accept help from the Duck Family. "I mean, doesn't he say using magic is a shortcut."
"He does," she nodded. "And it is, but... You don't use magic to make riches Vincent. You only have ever used it for self defense."
"I've never found another use for it," Vincent pointed out. "I... I think I'll take that ride now."
She leaned him against a wall and pulled out her phone.
The next place Vincent woke up at was the hospital. A place, he's never actually been to since... "Oh right, I hate hospitals." He remembered the majority of his childhood he had spent visiting his own mother when she was sick. That was the main reason he had been stubborn about going to one of these places. The other reason was that he had spent his recent years living in a magic shop, so there were potions of healing and other forms of magic he could use if he was ever in critical conditions. He guessed that was a shortcut that Scrooge probably wouldn't have approved of. Although, healing spells had a tendency to blow up on him whenever he was the one casting them. Vincent knew Mr. Elite and the Shadow Syndicate would leave him alone for now. Given Mr. Elite wanted to fight Vincent at his strongest, but the question remained, how long will that be? Will Mr. Elite change his mind one day and decide Vincent was taking to long to get stronger. No this is why the fight needed to go to the deer man's door.
"Vincent," Webby called out as she ran to his bedside. "Are you ok?"
Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley were right behind her as they walked in.
"I'm sorry for not calling you Webby," Vincent apologized. "I've been in hiding for a while."
"Indeed you have," Scrooge nodded. "Now tell me about this Mr. Elite. I know we met him when we met you, but who is he?"
"Mr. McDuck... he's..." Vincent sighed as he remembered that weird flashback of Scotland where Mr. Elite had met a young version of Scrooge. "He might be one your older enemies."
"My older enemies?", Scrooge questioned. "I've got a lot of old enemies."
"None like him," Vincent shook his head. "Remember when I was looking for the herbs of Glaucus."
"Right," Webby nodded. "The adventure the boys, Lena, and I followed you on. The rabbit girl said Mr. Elite had already eaten those herbs hundreds of years ago and became immortal."
"That's right," Vincent nodded. "I'm remembering a name from the cage back at the Shadow Syndicate's old layer. A name of someone who had eaten those herbs before. I think he is Mr. Elite, and your old foe. His name was Maximilian Stellar."
Scrooge dropped his cane when hearing that name. "That old shameless, shifty eye, sinister, scoundrel!"
"So you do know him?", Webby realized.
"I was a young lad around Vincent's age back then," Scrooge explained. "Right before I came to America, I ran into the deer man who was looking for ancient Scottish Artifacts."
"He was looking to increase his power back then also," Vincent realized.
"Apparently he was looking to break a curse of his," Scrooge continued. "He needed an old magic book in order to do so, it was referred to as one of the Black Books, a Grimoire filled with dark and powerful magic."
"Did he get his hands on it?", Vincent wondered.
"He got his hands on a few pages," Scrooge answered. "I burned the rest of the book. Never cared for magic, even back then."
Vincent looked down and sighed.
"Oh, but I suppose your alright... one of the good magic things I guess."
"I'm not a magic thing," Vincent shook his head.
"Look I'm sorry lad," Scrooge apologized. "I want to accept you as you are, and I have no intention to insult you further."
"I'm sorry to," Vincent decided. "I let others decide for me what I should think about you. Madame Aurora had told me you were our enemy, but I can see now that she was wrong."
"And don't worry about Mr. Elite or this Shadow Syndicate Vincent," Scrooge smiled. "They won't get the drop on you again as long as I'm here. No one gets past Scrooge McDuck."
It was strange, after all this time. Vincent could swear he believed the elder man.