jackdaw-sprite - Tumblr blog

jackdaw-sprite · 3 hours

Text

Art Nouveau Chapter 1

@scarletsaphire

Set in my 'Painting in Different Colors' series!

Danny and Frostbite had just finished their spar and were walking back to the main hall to have some frozen chocolate (much better than hot chocolate) when a group of yetis waved them over. They looked like they'd been arguing with each other, but they didn't seem angry, just frustrated with each other.

“What is it, Driftice?” asked Frostbite.

Danny trailed after him, feeling a little awkward. Was this something he should be overhearing? Or was it some intra-tribe thing he should bow out of?

“Flashfreeze thought there might be a color shift spinward of us, near the false horizon.” He gestured towards that edge of the island.

“I am not the only one who thinks there has been a change.”

Frostbite looked in the direction Driftice had indicated. “What kind of color shift?”

“Purple, I think,” said Flashfreeze. “Or blue, perhaps.”

“I see,” said Frostbite. “Great One, do you detect any such change in color in that direction? Your eyes are different from ours, and may see it more sharply.”

Danny, who had already been looking in that direction, shrugged. “Maybe? I think it might just be that there are a lot of doors over there, though.”

“We could get out the telescope,” said Frostbite.

Some of the other yetis made faces of distaste at that, but Danny perked up, levitating slightly. “You have a telescope? What kind of telescope? Can I see it?”

“Yes,” said Frostbite. He shot a look over Danny’s head, which Danny chose to ignore. “It’s a rather large one. Quite impressive, if I do say so myself. I think you would like it.”

Danny nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a telescope I didn’t like. Unless it was, like, broken. Or bad. But you wouldn’t have a bad telescope, I’m sure.”

“Then we’re decided,” said Frostbite. “We’ll see the telescope.”

“Yes!” shouted Danny, pumping his fist. “Telescope!”

“It is this way,” said Frostbite, waving Danny towards the buildings and caves that made up the village proper. “We keep it put away so it isn’t damaged.”

“Cool,” said Danny. “So, is it a reflector or a refractor?”

“A refractor. It is made of ice.”

“Of course,” said Danny, nodding. “The lens and the tube and everything?”

“Yes,” said Frostbite.

“It must have really thick lenses, then, since ice has a lower refractive index than glass.”

Frostbite gave a great shrug. “It is what it is. We tend not to work with glass outside of medical settings, so the lenses seem to be the correct thickness to us.”

That made sense, overall, and for a short time, he just followed after Frostbite, glancing at the yetis behind him. “What’s the big deal about the color being different, anyway?” he asked.

“No one has spoken to you about the turning of the ages?” asked Frostbite, sounding surprised. “Princess Dorathea? Lord Clockwork?”

“Nope,” said Danny. “Haven’t heard of that before at all.”

“One moment, Great One,” said Frostbite. He called to the other nearby yetis, and started giving them instructions, directing them to one of the larger caves. Together, they started the work of extracting the telescope.

“Can I help?” asked Danny.

“In this case, it is best to leave the work to those who know how to handle the telescope. Now, where was I?”

“You mentioned the ‘turning of the ages?’”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Frostbite. “Where to begin… The Infinite Realms are made up of ectoplasm. Ectoplasm is substantially different from normal matter. So, the laws upon which it works are also different.”

“Sure,” said Danny. The physics of ectoplasm was one of the things his parents studied. He had a passing understanding of how it all worked.

“Instead of, say, quantum spin, or quantum flavor, particles of ectoplasm might be better described in terms of color and character, qualities that go hand in hand. On occasion, the character and color of the Realms shift. The shift begins in one location, then spreads, until it has reached every corner of the Realms.”

“So… Ectoplasmic particles don’t have spin?”

“They do, to some degree, but that subject would require a great deal of additional explanation. The important part is the change.”

“Right. The change in color?”

“In color, but also in character. In mood, or aesthetic, some might say. Others might call it theme.”

“... I don’t get it,” admitted Danny. None of those things sounded very scientific to him.

“Let me attempt to explain from a different angle,” said Frostbite. “Every so often, the ambient ectoplasm of the Realms undergoes a change in color and character, which is called the turning of the age. As the two are related, the color of the ectoplasm indicates to us the character of the coming age. The character being how the Realms as a whole both look and behave. The aesthetic, if you would.”

They followed the telescope up a nearby hill.

“You are aware that different cultures had different views of the afterlife? Some very similar, some very different?”

Danny nodded.

“Some of that is caused by natural portals during the relevant time periods leading to different Realms, but the larger differences can be ascribed to the portals leading to different ages. For example, the popular conception of Hell was likely inspired by a red age. During red ages, temperatures grow more extreme, islands crash together to form larger landmasses, ghosts take on a more monstrous, demonic mien and become more aggressive.”

“Wait, so this shift affects ghosts, too?”

“How could it not? Like anything else, we change with our environment. When the laws of nature change, we must adapt to them. That being said, the internal ectoplasm of individual ghosts rarely changes color. Yours will, in all likelihood, remain green.”

“Well, I guess I'm glad Flashfreeze thinks it's purple, then. Red sounds kind of awful.”

“It might still become red,” said Frostbite. “It is not at all uncommon for the color to change before the age has completely turned, or for an age to last only a very brief time.”

“So, turning into a demon is still on the table.” As if he didn't already have enough trouble with his reputation back home.

Frostbite laughed, and patted his shoulder. “Yes, but red ages have their good points, too. They are exciting ages of alliances and camaraderie, and many a quiet injustice has been revealed and overturned in a red age. But we ought to see if there even is a change in color before we speculate any more on the age to come, hm?”

“Okay,” said Danny, watching as the yetis heaved the immense telescope into position. The white ice sides, taller than he was, twinkled in the light of the Zone.

Flashfreeze looked through the eyepiece first. They seemed to look for a long time, but then they stepped back and nodded, decisively. “I was right,” they said. “It isn't doors. The ectoplasm over there is turning purple.”

“Okay, will you tell me what a purple age means now?” asked Danny, aggressively stirring his frozen chocolate with a spoon made of ice. The telescope had been swarmed by yeti scientists immediately after Flashfreeze had made their pronouncement, and Danny hadn’t gotten a chance to look through it at all.

“Yes, yes,” said Frostbite. “Yes, but purple ages, or violet ages, are not nearly as easy to define or predict as some others. They can be highly variable.”

“But they’ve got to have some common points.”

“That they do. The principle commonality is rules.”

“I thought all of them shared rules. All of the ages where the colors were the same, I mean.”

“Well, yes, but purple ages tend to apply more rules, and to a greater degree. Rules similar to Frailties.”

Frailties were curses imparted by the five great rivers of the Ghost Zone. The Styx, which bound one to promises, the Acheron, which defined uncrossable boundaries, physical and social, the Cocytus, which engendered weaknesses, the Lethe which granted forgetfulness, and the Phlegethon, which caused something like addiction, a dependence on a stimulus, most often blood or fire.

“So, instead of demons, it’s more like vampires?”

Frostbite chuckled. “I do not believe that has been the first guess of anyone I have ever explained this to. Then again, I haven't explained it all that frequently.”

“Not vampires, then?”

“Vampires would not be out of the question, actually, what with their rules regarding thresholds, their diets, sunlight, and all the rest. There was an age of vampires that was purple. But most people think of fairies and the fae, not vampires.”

“We’re going to turn into… fairies.”

“Do not sound so skeptical. There are a great variety of fairies, hence why purple ages are so unpredictable.”

“But fairies.”

“Or elves, or fae, or a variety of other subsets of such creatures. Take unicorns, as an example. While usually universally violent, when a purple age comes over the Realms, they become tamable by virgins.”

“That’s still weird,” said Danny.

“The tendency towards rules extends to social structures as well. That’s how it always is in these cases… Last time we made all sorts of roles and positions and held all sorts of elections, competitions, what have you, in order to fulfill them. Hierarchies. Royalty and nobility are very popular in purple ages. There is a great tendency to titles and epithets, as a depressingly common frailty is that of being bound by one’s true name.”

“Which river does that?”

“In most ages, it is a rare interaction between the Styx and the Acheron. But in purple ages…” Frostbite shrugged. “Every age has something common to it that is rare elsewhere. For example, cyan ages - that is the color between blue and green - tend to have a greater number of half humans.”

“Really?” asked Danny.

“Truly,” said Frostbite.

“Do you think we’ll have one of those, soon?”

“Impossible to say.”

“What about red ages, what do they have?”

“Wars, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right for demons.” He shook his head. “What else should I look out for, in a purple age? Or is it too unpredictable?” he added, remembering some of Frostbite's earlier comments.

“Ah, well, beyond the emphasis on rules… Any turning of the age comes with physical changes. It may be quite some time before you see any, the change has only just begun, but it would be wise to keep your eye out.”

“Do you think that it'll affect my human form?” asked Danny, frowning over the brim of his cup.

Frostbite frowned as well. “It may. There are unfortunately few studies on the matter.”

“You'll probably be seeing a lot of me, then.”

“A silver lining, no matter how the coming age unfolds.”

Danny looked away and drank his frozen chocolate to hide how hard he was blushing.

“So, you’re going to shrink and grow wings?” asked Tucker, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean, maybe,” said Danny. “I could also become a vampire. Or maybe a werewolf. Those have a lot of rules, too.”

“And Tinkerbell-lookalikes aren’t the only kind of fairy,” said Sam. “Elves, hobgoblins, and banshees are all kinds of fairy, too.”

Due to various construction noises at Fentonworks - apparently something about the change of age had tripped some detector or other, and Danny’s parents were very excited about it - Team Phantom had retreated to Jazz’s usual haunt. The library. Specifically, one particular reading room in the library. It was very cozy, with the three of them, and verged on tight when Jazz was in there.

Of course, as soon as Danny had thought that, Jazz returned with a teetering stack of books. She dropped them on the table as soon as she shut the door.

Tucker sneezed. “Blegh. Dust. This is why hard drives are the superior form of data storage.”

“Books can’t be defeated by magnets or overheating,” pointed out Jazz.

“Sure they can. It’s called fire.”

“Is… is this an RPG book?” asked Danny, tugging one of the books out of the pile.

Jazz blushed. “It’s– Well, yeah, but it’s something people did research for. It’s all based on actual folklore and modern takes on that folklore. I thought it would be easier to digest.”

“Gimme,” said Tucker, reaching for it.

Danny moved it out of his reach.

“I’ve also got the Encyclopaedia of Fairies, Collected Celtic Folklore, and a bunch of fairytale collections, of course,” said Jazz, ignoring Tucker and Danny as they wrestled over the book. “Do you want The Dark Side of Fairytales?”

“Yes, please,” said Sam. “I think I’d lose it trying to work through the others.”

“I was thinking we could list common weaknesses,” said Jazz. “Physical characteristics are probably too varied, but the list of what works against fairies should be a little bit easier.”

Tucker managed to get the book away from Danny - via treacherous use of Danny’s ticklish spot - and Danny decided not to push Jazz by using his ghost powers in the library. Sulking, he took the encyclopedia. That, at least, would be organized.

“I regret all my decisions,” said Danny.

“Is there any weakness here that isn’t contradicted by something else?” asked Sam.

“Iron, I think,” said Tucker. “I haven’t found anything that contradicts iron. Unless, you know, fairy knights wear steel armor. That’d do it.”

“Well,” said Jazz, with forced cheer, “we can still take the most common ones and test them regularly, to make sure they don’t trip you up later, right, Danny?”

“I guess,” said Danny, eying an illustration of a troll. “I hope I don’t wind up looking like that.”

“Don’t say that,” said Tucker. “You’ll jinx yourself.”

Danny let both the book and his head fall to the table with a thump.

“Have you noticed anything?” asked Jazz, a couple weeks later.

“No,” said Danny, as he had every time. “I haven’t even gotten into the bathroom yet. Give me a break.”

“I just think that you should probably get checked up. There could be internal changes.”

Danny, who had just endured an interminable week of sex ed in health class, groaned. “Don’t say that, that’s gross.”

“It’s not gross, it’s just the way things are,” protested Jazz. “I know you haven’t had a chance to go since Mom and Dad started in on… whatever… but I think you really should. Your health is important.”

“Fine,” said Danny. “But later, and only if I can get past Mom and Dad.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” said Jazz.

Danny felt like she was asking a lot more than that, especially so early in the morning. He liked the Far Frozen, but it was, as the name suggested, far away. The commute would eat up his weekend.

“You guys’ll have to patrol without me, you know that, right?”

“It’s fine,” said Jazz. “I’ve been practicing, and it’s been quiet.”

It had been, too. Danny mumbled something like agreement in response and slipped into the bathroom.

The first thing he did was poke the various iron bits that he and his friends had scraped together, on the premise that no one knew what ‘cold iron’ really meant. There was a horseshoe nail, a broken piece of wrought iron, some regular iron filings, steel screws of various types, a lump of iron ore, and, Danny’s favorite, a tiny iron meteorite in its own case.

(Danny had taken to carrying that last one around in his pocket during the day and putting it away at night.)

None of them had given Danny so much as a rash. That done, he checked his ears. They weren’t pointy. Teeth. They weren’t sharp. Fingers. Had the right number of joints. Skin. Still a pale pink. Eyes. Blue, with round pupils. He ran through the same check as Phantom, although that one naturally had different results.

Either way, he couldn’t find any changes. He hadn’t even grown taller, as far as he could tell, which was too bad. He was among the shortest in his grade, although luckily not the shortest. That honor fell on Mikey.

He sighed. He almost would prefer the changes to just happen already. But he knew better than to say anything like that out loud.

He grabbed his toothbrush. If he really was going to the Far Frozen today, he’d need to get ready.

The Ghost Zone looked different.

Not a lot different. The sky was still mostly green, islands and doors still floated lazily about, and small ghosts flitted to and fro. There was, however, a haze of sweet-smelling purple mist in the air, and the grass growing on the ground had taken on a more natural hue.

There was also a change in the quality of light and temperature of the Zone. Most of the time, the Zone felt timeless, as if it was stuck in an eternal, neon night at the bottom of a very deep cave. But today, it felt a lot like stepping outside on an autumn morning. Which, incidentally, was what it was back in Amity Park.

It was weird. Not bad, but… weird. Definitely weird.

He took off towards the Far Frozen, making note of other small changes as he went. Doors and islands, at first glance largely unaffected, seemed to be clustered closer together. Several of the trees he passed looked alive, rather than dead. The wind, when it blew audibly, sounded musical.

Yes, Danny was definitely leaning towards fairies rather than vampires.

However, Danny was only about halfway to the Far Frozen when he came upon a lair that simply should not have been anywhere near there: Clockwork’s tower, Long Now.

Once he recognized it, he hovered for a few minutes, trying to figure out why Clockwork would be here. None of the reasons Danny could think of were very good. He rarely put himself so directly on someone’s path unless it was important. And, in Danny’s experience, important often meant calamitous.

It was a lot less disturbing when he went looking for Clockwork.

Nevertheless, Danny shook himself and flew to the tower. If Clockwork needed him… Well, it was important. Reaching the Far Frozen could wait.

He touched down outside the large double doors, which opened immediately, and went in. The atrium of the tower was empty, however…

Danny crouched down to look at the floor. The last time he was here - about a month ago - this floor had been plain stone. Now, it was inlaid with graceful swooping patterns that reminded Danny of vines, or maybe visualizations of how planets moved. They were still somewhat indistinct, half-formed, but they described a path. After another moment of hesitation, Danny followed.

The path traced a spiral through Long Now, leading Danny through rooms he didn’t know existed. As Danny went, the purple haze got thicker and thicker, to the point where Danny could swear he tasted lilacs on his tongue. Finally, though, it deposited him in a circular courtyard.

There was a garden in the courtyard, and at the very center of it was a tree. Both the garden and the tree were divided into quarters. One, had plants and trees just starting to put up new growth, and young, early spring flowers. Another was rich and bright with full foliage and the buzz of summer insects. The third looked much like Amity Park did now, wreathed in the golds and oranges of fall, with fruit growing on branches. The final one was wintery, cold, but still vital with winter-blooming flowers.

The tree at the center was partially in all four quarters, and looked it, with one quarter of the tree in bloom, a quarter in full leaf, a quarter bearing fruit, and a quarter bare.

It was a very Clockwork garden.

What wasn’t like Clockwork, however, was the number of other guests.

Frostbite was there, and given the other two, Danny flew over to him as quickly as he could without damaging any of Clockwork’s plants. The others were Fright Knight and Undergrowth.

Clockwork, meanwhile, had his back to them, looking up at the tree.

“Doubtless, you are all wondering why I have summoned you here,” said Clockwork, turning away from the tree to face them. To Danny’s surprise, he was sporting a pair of legs. He eyed them with interest. He’d never seen Clockwork with legs before.

“The thought had crossed my mind, meddler,” said Undergrowth.

“Before it is fully set, an age can be manipulated,” said Clockwork, gliding across the ground with small, even steps. “Influenced. Changed. Not at all easily, but I have put the first building blocks into place.” He waved his hand through the air, purple swirling after it. “I intend to do so in your favor.”

“For what purpose?” asked Frostbite, just a touch of a growl in his voice.

“I am not sure you would believe me if I told you.”

“I would,” said Danny.

Clockwork smiled. “Mischief, mainly. I have few enough chances to divest myself of some of the Observants’ control. This, establishing a hierarchy that they are not party to, is one of them.”

“And what hierarchy would that be, Lord Clockwork?” asked Fright Knight, his voice almost as deep as Frostbite’s.

“The seasonal courts,” said Clockwork, gesturing to the corners of his garden. “Summer and Winter, Fall and Spring. The wheel of the year, all things moving in order. With this changing of the age, seasons will come to the Realms, as will night and day, and the phases of the moon.”

“And you’ll make yourself stronger by marking the passage of time,” said Undergrowth. “I see how that helps you, but I have no interest in that. How will it help us?”

“Seasonal courts must have their rulers,” said Clockwork. “I think you would serve well as the King of Summer. And, you, as Champion of Autumn.” He turned slightly to Fright Knight, and as he did so, his hood fell back, revealing silvery white braided hair and pointed ears.

Actually… Clockwork had stayed in one, young and relatively handsome, form this whole time. If Danny looked closely, the other three ghosts around him also looked more… polished, maybe. It’d take a lot of work to make Undergrowth look like anything but a plant monstrosity, but he had more flowers growing from his vines. Frostbite’s fur looked shinier and sleeker. Even Fright Knight seemed less tarnished and bloody.

Danny raised his hand to his own ears. They weren’t nearly as pointed as Clockwork’s, but the taper was detectable. Had the concentration of purple ectoplasm here accelerated the change? Or had it happened when Danny first came through the portal?

“As for Chief of the Winter Court, I do not think I would ever find anyone more suitable than you, Chief Frostbite, who have managed the Far Frozen well for these past centuries. And, finally, for our Prince of Spring, one who embodies youth, change, and life.”

Clockwork had, without Danny realizing it, gotten close enough to touch Danny’s face. He flinched back, surprised.

“I have ice powers, though,” said Danny.

“As there is snow in spring,” said Clockwork, unconcerned.

“And… I’m not sure about the responsibility.”

“You could be a figurehead. But the symbolism is necessary, to wrest control from the Observants. Even now, they are attempting to force things onto a path more suitable for themselves.”

“I don’t know…”

Undergrowth scoffed. “It hardly matters. I accept your proposal. It has been some time since I ruled, and it’s high time I do so again.”

Clockwork nodded. “Then stand in summer, King Undergrowth.”

“I will take on this task as well,” said Fright Knight. He walked to the autumn section of the garden and drew his sword, setting the tip in the soil.

“You’re doing this much, just to annoy the Observants?” asked Frostbite.

Clockwork tilted his head to one side, regarding both Danny and Frostbite. “There are some other forces at play as well, admittedly. Rest assured, this path leads to the greatest good. I cannot reveal more than that.”

“Then I accept,” said Frostbite. “But be warned: if I should discover treachery at the end of this path, it will not go well for you.”

Well, Danny could hardly say no after all of that. He still had to check. “So, the greatest good?”

“That is correct.”

“And saying no, that wouldn’t lead to something on the level of, you know. Dan.”

“Not on his level, no. Not for you.”

Danny squinted at Clockwork. He had to wonder if that careful phrasing was a way to get around a restriction on lying.

But Clockwork had helped Danny, more than once. Even if Clockwork wasn’t being entirely honest, Danny should at least return the favor.

He scuffed his feet against the garden path, then looked up. “What do I need to do?”

63 notes · View notes