[fic] [Tales of Arcadia] Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet 170/?
Your Future Hasn’t Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
released 5th April, 2024
The wave of golden light, visible from space, raced across the surface of the blue planet. Val Morando tracked it on the screen with his eyes; his ship's sensors, more delicate than he, registered it with greater precision.
"Planetary effects?" he demanded. Given an energy wave of that magnitude, some were inevitable. Groundquakes, tidal waves, extreme weather conditions. Only a fool would land without knowing the conditions on the ground, and what obstacles he might face.
"...None," one of the helm officers reported.
"Impossible," Val decreed as the wave vanished from sight, disappearing over the horizon of this pathetic sphere of rock.
"No, sir," the officer reported. He displayed his data on one of the ship's holoscreens. "All readings are standard and remain unchanged from when we began our approach."
"Check the sensors!"
"I did, sir. They're all perfectly functional."
"Maybe it's a periodic phenomenon?" suggested one of the other helmsmen. "Dredging planetary databanks now."
Val glowered. That would take time, as primitive as this planet's systems were. And he wanted to land and take care of the Tarrons now.
But neither had he risen to his rank through rashness. And landing on a planet which had just experienced an unprecedented phenomenon was a good way to die.
His gaze caught on a notation on one of the other holoscreens. "There is a bounty hunter base on this planet's moon," he mused.
"Yes sir!"
"Request and require their data on this... whatever that was."
"It will be costly, sir," said the second helmsmen. "Everything is a financial transaction to mercs."
He waved a negligent hand. "Akiridion-5 can afford the information. Even from," and here his gaze glowered at the schematics of the moon base map, as he saw a listing of those known to frequent it, "this wretched hive of scum and villainy."
The Zerons, he thought darkly, have failed me this time.
I'll take the price of the information out of their hides.
Eli was panting as Douxie's younger self ran up the stairs. "I can't--" he said. "I need my inhaler--" He patted fruitlessly at the armor he wore.
Krel glanced behind them. The staircase was narrow and so far uninhabited. The three of them were definitely outrunning the news, and any possible pursuit.
Decision made, he thumbed at his serrator and dropped his Earth transduction, scooping Eli up in two of his four arms and continuing to bolt up the stairs.
"I thought... Aja was the... the jock," Eli said, trying to regain control of his breathing.
Krel snorted. "My sister may be the more athletic of the two of us, but that does not mean that Akiridion physiques are not all inherently superior to yours." For instance, Krel had no actual need to breathe. And breathing was Eli's current problem.
"That's so cool," Eli said, even as Krel finally caught up with the younger Douxie.
The door to Merlin's workroom flung wide open before them, guided by blue magic, and slammed itself shut, a heavy bar blocking further entry, as soon as they were within.
Merlin himself was perusing half a dozen tomes, held in midair, pages turning, by his own magic, and merely raised an eyebrow at the three of them. His gaze lingered longest on Krel before returning to Douxie. "What is going on now, Hisirdoux?"
Younger Douxie was bent over, his hands on his thighs as he tried to catch his breath. "Master Merlin-- Arthur-- and Morgana--"
Merlin did not look best pleased at the delay in information, or at the state his apprentice had gotten himself into.
"Arthur cut off Morgana's hand in the throne room," Krel reported, easing Eli down onto his own feet.
Merlin's expression went from irritated to shocked in an instant. "What?" he demanded.
"Um. Um. Sir Lancelot and a bunch of the knights arrested Morgana, I guess?" Eli put in. "And they took her to the king, and he...."
"He accused Lady Morgana of causing the power outage, and the disruption at dinner," Douxie said, looking up at his master. "Then they started arguing, and she said some vicious things, Master!"
"Nothing which probably wasn't true," Krel muttered, but the scene - the fight between siblings - was beginning to catch up with him, and his mind was reeling in horror.
Like Arthur, he, too, had an elder sister skilled in many things beyond his ability or even desires. And he and Aja fought all the time! But Krel could never, ever imagine maiming her. Let alone killing her. She was his family! She was Aja!
How could Arthur do something like that?
"She tried to attack him first," Eli said softly. "Then he...." His voice trailed off. He swallowed.
Merlin stared beyond them, at the door. "I must go to the king at once," he said. His staff materialized in his hand. "Hisirdoux...." He paused, gaze on his apprentice. "Stay hidden, and out of trouble," he instructed, before sweeping out of the room. The door unbarred itself and opened as he left, then shut firmly behind him.
"What do we do now?" asked Eli, looking at the shut door.
"I don't know," answered Douxie.
Krel shoved down his feelings, and forced himself to think. "The knights will be upset," he said. "King Arthur already hates magic, and will be unstable. And Merlin is not here to protect anyone."
The other two were looking at him.
"Our best option," Krel concluded, "is to stick with our plan. You get your lute," he told Douxie's younger self, "and we will return to the others and let them know what has happened."
Wide-eyed, Douxie slowly nodded.
Claire jolted awake. "Morgana!" she gasped, half upright before she even knew it.
"Hey," Jim said, taking her hand in his blue one even as her heart pounded inside her rib cage. "Are you okay?"
Her eyes locked onto him, her knight in shining armor no matter what form he wore. "I--" Words failed her.
"It's okay," he promised, sincerity in his eyes. "Whatever it is, it will be okay."
"Don't make promises you can't keep." Claire and Jim both looked to see Douxie standing in the open stone doorway, leaning against the frame, his arms and legs crossed.
"Do you know what's going on?" Jim asked him.
"I can make some guesses." The wizard uncrossed his limbs and walked over to them, taking a seat on the bed on Claire's other side. His fingertips glowed blue as he briefly ran a hand around Claire's head, never touching. "No physical damage to heal," he reported. "But in our original timeline," he said, his eyes meeting hers, "you were connected to Morgana."
Things suddenly clicked. Claire crossed her arms. "And apparently I am in this one too. It's not fair," she grumbled.
"Sorry," apologized Douxie.
Claire snorted. "It's really not your fault."
Douxie acknowledged the point with a nod.
"How are you holding up?" Jim asked him.
"Hating this," Douxie reported. "I keep telling myself we can't save Morgana now, not if we want to ever return home. But there's still a possibility we can save her then."
"I dunno, Doux. She was pretty spitting mad when you sealed her away last time," said Claire dubiously.
He shrugged. "And yet she still turned against her masters to fight on the side of the angels, by the end."
"What the heck are you people talking about?" asked a new voice from the doorway.
"It's about the future," Douxie responded, smiling at Callista.
"I know we've got to seem heartless and cruel, leaving Morgana to Arthur's... mercies," said Jim, his mouth twisting on that last word, "but...."
"But Morgana persists," Claire put in. "She's still present in our time, nearly a thousand years from now."
"Still a problem in our time," Jim muttered.
Claire elbowed him. "She hasn't done anything. This time."
"Yet," Jim added moodily.
"Pessimist," she teased.
Callista just stared at them. "I don't know if I should think you're crazy or lying."
"Eh, go for crazy," advised Toby, peeking around her. "It puts us all in better company. What's up?" he asked the three of them.
"Probably Morgana's number," said Claire. She rubbed at her left wrist. "I don't know if that counts as everything going horribly right, or horribly wrong."
"Well--" Toby started, before he was interrupted by a crashing sound behind him, and the noise of the door being opened and then slammed hastily shut.
"We're back!" called Eli's voice.
"We've got the lute," said Douxie's younger self.
"And news," added Krel, sounding remarkably dispirited.
Claire exchanged glances with Jim and Douxie. "Well, we should probably go hear it," she said, and pushed herself off the bed to go out to the Akiridions' sitting room.
"My king!" Merlin came barreling into the throne room, where Arthur slumped on the great dragon throne that he had inherited from his father. Usually he filled the throne with his presence; now, it seemed to overwhelm him. Excalibur, shattered, was held loosely in his hand. More pieces of it littered the floor between the throne and the Round Table. As did a severed hand. A few knights stood ceremonially around the edges of the room. Reading their expressions as he passed, Merlin categorized them automatically: worried, disgusted, fearful, triumphant. They all gave the shards of Nimue's blade, and the drying puddles of blood, a wide berth. Merlin dismissed them all from his mind; they did not matter.
Only Arthur mattered.
Arthur looked up at his chief advisor. "What have I done, Merlin?" he murmured, lost.
"What you had to do," Merlin said firmly, kneeling before his king. He gently prised Excalibur from the king's hand, examining the broken blade and tsking over the damage.
"Did I?" asked Arthur. "She was my sister."
"She was a danger to the stability of Camelot," Merlin assured him.
"Was she?" Blue eyes met blue. "I have destroyed so much in the name of Camelot, Merlin," Arthur said, fit to be heard only by the two of them. "My own child, and now my own sister."
Merlin's mouth and fingers tightened. "Necessary evils," he said after a moment. "The child - Mordred - would have caused your death. And Morgana...." He looked into the distance, seeking for the right words, then shook his head. "She would have brought about the downfall of Camelot. Of all the unity you stand for, Arthur. And then the land would have dissolved back into warring factions." He hesitated. "I know it is hard," he said, laying a hand on the king's shoulder, "but this too was for the greater good, my king."
Arthur nodded slowly, his eyes heavy with sorrow. "This never would have happened were Gwen still alive."
"Perhaps not," Merlin conceded. "The queen had a great gift for diplomacy." As Merlin did not. As, he had to admit, Arthur did not. "I will take this, my king," he said, hefting Excalibur, "to the Lady of the Lake, that she might repair it." Excalibur was a widely known symbol of Arthur, of Camelot. If it got about that the blade was broken....
"Do you think it can be?"
Merlin essayed a small smile. "With magic, Arthur, many things are possible."
It won the faintest return smile. "You've said that before. Many times."
"And it remains true," Merlin said firmly. He hesitated, then raised a hand to Arthur's cheek, cupping. The golden beard bristled against his palm. He remembered when Arthur had been a mere child, his chin smooth. How fast he'd grown. "Arthur," he said softly. "As my own teacher told me, in one of my darkest hours... However unlikely it may seem, amidst all the pain in the world, hope remains."
"What hope?" asked Arthur forlornly. You could drown in the sea-at-storm sadness of his eyes.
"The hope," said Merlin, "that someday pain will ease. That a brighter day will come. That there will be someone, or something, to love again."
"Do you really think so, Merlin?"
Merlin smiled, full of love for the golden child before him. "I know so, Arthur. After all, I found you, didn't I?"
"Ugh. I still feel like caca," Claire grumbled, sinking back into the pillows of, Jim was guessing, Aja's bed.
"Well, you did make a whole lot of portals today," Jim pointed out.
"Yeah, but I've made bigger and farther before," she said.
He gave a soft laugh. "Yeah, and you were tapped out after those too, remember?"
Her stomach rumbled.
"And I'm an idiot," Jim declared. "I forgot wizards need to eat."
"Not an idiot," said Douxie, reentering the room. Beyond him, his younger self was assiduously tuning his lute, with Krel watching closely and avidly. "Merely a man who doesn't know the way to the kitchens."
"I could portal us there, but I don't know the way either," Claire said.
Douxie gave one of his habitual half-smiles. "A remediable problem."
All three of them, Jim felt, were studiously ignoring the elephant in the room: that Arthur had cut off Morgana's hand, and that they had let it happen.
"I know that look," said Douxie. "Young Atlas taking the world on his shoulders."
"Heavy lies the head that bears the crown," Jim shot back.
"Misquote," Douxie replied. "It's 'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.' Henry the Fourth, Part Two."
Jim rolled his eyes. "Same difference."
Douxie opened his mouth then shut it again. "I'll leave the debate on Will's works to a later date, as it's not particularly relevant right now."
"Sic Miss Janeth on Jim," Claire murmured, which won a brief bright smile from the wizard before he focused on Jim again.
"Jim," said Douxie carefully, "this was not your fault, all right? You've got enough weight bearing down on you already. Let me take this for you. In order to right the timeline, so that we all have a home to go back to, Morgana and Arthur needed to have their grand falling out. Fixing the timeline is magic stuff, so this lands squarely on me, all right?"
Jim breathed in and out slowly, trying to cudgel his thoughts into a presentable order. Douxie was maybe right about that, but... he wasn't looking at the bigger picture. "Doux," he told his brother, "it's all happening too fast."
Douxie blinked.
"We arrived here, what, yesterday morning?" Jim asked. "A week ago we were in the year 501, and you burned yourself out making that staff and then fighting time to keep all the magic stuff you needed. And then you went and wrestled with the Deep! Plus figuring out magic healing. You're not taking any breaks. We're not getting any breaks! And then there's whatever we're going to have to deal with when we get home."
"Which includes, at a minimum, General Morando's invasion," Claire said with a frown.
"Plus the Arcane Order," agreed Douxie.
Jim bit his lip. "I am worried," he said cautiously but honestly, "that we're going to end up too burnt out and, and, worn down by the time we get back home, to save the present, because we've spent all our energy saving the past."
He could see Douxie and Claire both take in his words, letting the idea sink in.
"I don't know that we've got a choice, Jim," Claire said after a minute. "I mean, what else can we do?"
Douxie gave another of his half-cocked smiles. "I could always find us a handy cave and seal it up behind us," he offered. "Let us all take the long way back to the future, like Merlin, in magic naps. We'd certainly arrive in the present well rested."
"Would that work?" asked Claire.
Douxie shrugged. "In theory."
"Yeah, but we'd have to... I dunno, find some way to leave Blinky a message to act as our alarm clock," Jim pointed out.
"Still not insurmountable." Douxie shrugged again. "We'll leave the nine hundred year nap option as a backup plan, all right? Meantime, in the immortal words of Bon Jovi... I'm going to live while I'm alive, and sleep while I'm dead."
"This is why you have eyebags of doom," Jim muttered.
"Don't think I don't know it." Douxie's smile tightened. "I live on caffeine and adrenaline, Jim. Anything less is unworthy."
Jim opened his mouth to say something scathing, but was interrupted by Toby knocking on the door frame. "So, hey, any chance we can raid the kitchens?" he asked. "It's been hours since lunch, and that was kind of interrupted." He looked not insignificantly at Jim.
Jim blushed. "It wasn't my fault!"
"Didn't say it was, Jimbo." Toby's gaze returned to Douxie. "So. Food?"
"Did I hear the word 'food'?" Steve came bouncing up behind Toby like a human golden retriever. "I'm in! Sir Steve is gonna teach the middle ages about the awesomeness of the sandwich!"
Douxie gave half a laugh. "All right. A kitchen raid it is. Come along, minions."
"Hey," Jim protested. "They're my minions."
"I'm borrowing them," Douxie retorted. "We'll bring you back a sandwich, your majesty."
Jim cast an impotent glare at his brother's retreating back.
Claire giggled into her fist.
The three of them were leaving the kitchen after their successful raid when it happened. A transparent green figure rose from the floor.
Steve shrieked. "It's a ghost!" he screamed, his tray and all its contents going flying.
With the experience centuries as a waiter had granted him, Douxie rebalanced his own tray and thrust out an arm without ever looking. He managed to catch everything by levitation before it hit the floor.
"Hisirdoux," said his master's projection suspiciously, "what are you doing?"
"Nothing, Master Merlin," Douxie said by reflex. "Well, that is, errr...." He glanced down at his tray then back up again. "Fetching food for the Akiridion delegation?"
Merlin leaned in, peered closer at him. "Drat, you're the older one."
His projection dissolved.
"Fuzzbuckets," Douxie swore.
"Uh, dude, what's going on?" asked Steve, plucking fruits and loaves of bread out of where they hovered midair and placing them back on his floating tray. "What did the crusty creepy dude want?"
"More importantly," said Toby, watching Steve jump for a wheel of cheese that was just beyond his grasp, "what's Merlin want with the younger you, Doux?"
"The me who hasn't screwed up and gotten the Heart of Avalon destroyed, you mean." Douxie sighed. "I'll wager he's getting his own astral projection now. Probably telling him to sit tight, or... oh." His eyes widened with realization. "Krel said Excalibur was broken."
"Yeah, so?" Steve finally reached the cheese. "Ha!" he said triumphantly, setting it on his tray and looking around for any more floating food.
"Oh." Toby's eyes were wide. "So the next thing that's gotta happen is Merlin getting it fixed."
"Yeah." Douxie let that stand. After a moment, Toby arrived at the same thought as Douxie had; his gaze slid over to Steve.
"What? Why're you both looking at me?" Steve clutched his tray close and looked nervous.
"So about that hammer..." Toby said to Douxie, clearly meaning Toothache.
"Yeah." Douxie nodded. Steve had loved his hammer almost as much as Toby loved his. Internally, Douxie was already reordering priorities: the need to knock out his younger self (again), which would at least fulfill the need to wipe his own memories of this time. Replacing himself on the trip to Nimue, and freeing her. Amidst which, somehow, Steve would knock out the goddess' tooth and earn his prized weapon. But at the same time, Douxie also needed to teach the others healing and get the Heart of Avalon functional again....
"Dude, that is a worrying expression," said Toby.
Douxie's free hand scrunched in his bangs. "I am literally able to be in two places at the same time right now," he complained, "and it's still not enough!"
"Dude," said Steve sympathetically, "I feel you. It's like in a b-ball game, when you want to be streaking up the court and passing yourself the ball for the sweet sweet layup at the same time, y'know?"
The absurdity of comparing saving history to a basketball game cracked the tension. Douxie's grip on his hair eased. He gave a chuckle. "Yes, Steve. It's exactly like that."
"Right." Toby shifted his weight. "Well, I sure as heck can't clone you, Doux. But what we can do right now is get all this to the team," he said, hefting his tray, "and then we brainstorm while we eat. Sounds good?"
"Sounds good," Douxie agreed, for lack of any other ideas.
"Sounds good?" Steve scoffed. "It sounds great! And I will build the best medieval ingredients sandwich you have ever tasted, Dumbzalski."
Hisirdoux nodded as Merlin's astral projection faded away.
"Well," remarked Archie, "it seems we're needed."
"Yes. Finally!" It was thrilling, that Master Merlin wanted Hisirdoux - specifically him, and not his older, more knowledgeable self! - to help with visiting the Lady of the Lake and restoring Excalibur. "At last, we're rising in his estimation, Arch!"
Archie looked dubious but didn't say anything.
"Oh. Um." Hisirdoux looked at the lute in his hand. "We... won't need this on the trip to the Lady," he said, offering it to Prince Krel. "You could borrow it while we're gone?"
"Merlin's not much of one for road trip music, huh?" asked the blue-skinned knight, Sir Jim.
Road trip music...? Hisirdoux tried to parse that for a moment, then shook his head. "He's not much of one for music at all, I'm afraid."
Sir Jim winced, as did several others in the room. Hisirdoux wondered why.
Prince Krel's hand landed on his shoulder, patting. "I am sorry for your entire apprenticeship, then," he said, which, oh!, that was why they were all wincing. Because Hisirdoux loved music, loved making it, and Merlin-- "I will gratefully borrow your lute, and give it back in safe condition when you return," he promised.
His sister came up, the pretty blonde princess, smiling. "Safe travels, my young friend," she said, taking Hisirdoux's hand between hers while her brother took the lute, "and safe returns."
"Thank you, your highness!" Hisirdoux said, beaming.
He turned to go, when the door was opened, and his older self came in, flanked by two others, all bearing trays heavy with food.
"Ah--" Hisirdoux said, hesitating.
His older self put his tray down on a table and turned to face him. "Merlin contacted you, didn't he?" he asked softly.
Hisirdoux nodded. "He-- oh." Things fell into place. "You need to take my place, don't you?" he asked, suddenly miserable.
His older self nodded, hand moving toward his charm bracelet.
Then he stopped.
And seemed to really look at Hisirdoux.
"What?" whispered Hisirdoux.
Slowly, his elder self shook his head.
"I should," his future self said, "but I can't."
Hisirdoux blinked. As did several others.
"Douxie?" asked Duke Tobias.
"I can't take his place," the older wizard repeated. "I'm not him anymore. Even if I change my hair color and magic up a manbun, Merlin will never buy it. I can't just... replace myself. I'm too different from who I used to be."
"But you said..." Squire Steve protested.
He shook his head again. "We'll find another way." Looking Hisirdoux in the eye, the older Douxie put both hands on his shoulders. "Merlin may act like he doesn't care," he said quietly, "but he just wants to keep you safe. That's why he's taking you out of Camelot right now. He does care."
Hisirdoux swallowed. There was a sudden lump in his throat.
"Be safe," his older self said, touching his forehead against Hisirdoux's. Just like Archie did. "I'll see you when you get back."
Author's Note: My apologies to all of my readers for having shifted to an alternate Fridays posting schedule as of late. I've been fighting upward against overcommitment and the ensuing exhaustion. I haven't yet figured out how to cut down on my commitments, but I have been trying to pace myself better in everything that I can. I hope to be able to return to my usual weekly posting schedule, but I hope y'all will be kind and understanding if I need to miss a week here or there.
Upon reflection, I also always knew the Wizards storyline was going to be the hardest for me to write, both because it's where I fell in love with Tales of Arcadia, and because so much happens in so few episodes. So having to step more carefully through rewriting this particular canon is probably also part of why it's going slower.
Morando's line about the bounty hunter base on the moon being a "wretched hive of scum and villainy" is, of course, a reference to Star Wars: A New Hope.