#But then his nephew is in danger and he starts to run as a madman | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ibijau · 4 years

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Age reversal AU: part 1, part 2, on AO3

Wei Wuxian is dead, and the world moves on

warning that this runs a bit long (8K)

However bad the reputation of the Yiling Burial Mounds, nothing could have prepared Nie Huaisang for the stench of death and the oppressive atmosphere. Lan Wangji, who had visited the place once, had described it as oddly homely once past the barriers, insisting on how Wei Wuxian had tried to make something of the place, how he had been working on purifying it.

On that matter too, Lan Wangji must have been deluded. There was nothing pure about this place. Even demons would have refused to take such a nasty place as their domain.

Because of his weak cultivation, Nie Huaisang found himself advised against joining the army set to enter the Burial Mounds and attack the Yiling Patriarch. Instead he remained at the foot of the mountain, helping set up a camp to welcome those who would be wounded.

And there would be many, Nie Huaisang suspected. They had caught and interrogated some of those rogue cultivators who had shamelessly proclaimed themselves disciples of the Yiling Patriarch until recently. Most had been trying to run away, terrified by the defences that their supposed master was building to protect his den. It promised something more terrifying than what he had come up with during the Sunshot Campaign, something worse perhaps than even the slaughter at Nightless City, now that he was on his own ground. Nie Huaisang would have preferred to stay out of this mess, but Nie Mingjue had left him no choice.

Among those who remained at the foot of the mountain to heal the fighters or cover a retreat, Nie Huaisang soon found Lan Qiren. It was the best company he could hope for on such a gloomy day, so he went to his side. The older man barely acknowledged his presence, his gaze turned up toward the place where already their people had to have started fighting.

"How is your nephew?" Nie Huaisang asked to break the heavy silence.

Lan Qiren tore his eyes from the mountain and glared at him. "After what happened in Nightless City, Lan Wangji decided to enter seclusion to improve his cultivation so he would not be this powerless again, should an enemy this strong rise again. The planned duration of that seclusion is three years."

Nie Huaisang blinked a few times, then grimaced.

"Master Lan, I have to tell you I am not a forgiving man. So with all due respect, I have lost all interest in Wangji’s life. I meant your other nephew. How is Xichen? Did he recuperate well? Will there be sequels? I'd never seen someone in that state, he was trembling so bad the entire time I carried him, and…"

"He is well," Lan Qiren interrupted in a gentler voice, instantly allowing Nie Huaisang to breathe more easily than he had since arriving in Yiling. "It was only exhaustion, his body will bear no ill effects. His heart is still affected by what happened that day, though. I thought it better if he didn't come."

Nie Huaisang nodded. It would have felt wrong for someone like Lan Xichen to come to such a place. In truth, he would also have left Nie Mingjue home if he could have, but that had proved impossible. One of them had to go, and neither of them could have allowed the other to go alone.

"I still don't understand how it came to this," Lan Qiren sighed, looking up once more. "Why waste a mind this brilliant in this way?"

"People make their own choices," Nie Huaisang huffed, thinking more of Lan Wangji than Wei Wuxian. "He must have known what to expect. At this point, I’m just glad he left so early when the boys were all in your care, and that Mingjue didn’t get too close to him. To see a friend turn out like this… and did you see Jiang Cheng earlier?”

Nie Huaisang shivered at the memory, while even Lan Qiren had trouble containing his horror… or perhaps it was pity more than horror. Jiang Cheng had looked like a man ready to set himself on fire if it meant the world would burn with him. Jiang Cheng, much like Nie Huaisang, was a man who lived for his family, and so to lose his sister as well as the man he’d treated as a brother…

Nie Huaisang wondered if Jiang Cheng would make it out alive.

He doubted it, not unless some miracle happened to give him the upper hand against Wei Wuxian.

And a miracle was exactly what they were granted, or so it seemed.

Nie Huaisang never managed to get a clear story of what happened on that mountain. Most of his disciples were fighting on the sides when it happened, so they did not see it themselves. Nie Mingjue did, but whatever he saw left him so shocked that he would not speak about it. All that was certain was that Jiang Cheng, sword in hand, had launched himself at Wei Wuxian to make him stop his demonic music. Nie Mingjue had confessed to running after him, terrified for his friend, and then…

And then it was anyone’s guess.

Some said that upon being attacked by Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian had lost control of his army of corpses, only to be torn to pieces by them right before the eyes of two men who had once been his friends, leaving nothing but shreds of flesh and fragments of bones, his very soul dispersed to the winds.

Other claimed that it was Jiang Cheng himself who had killed him, or Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue together, and the power of their combined righteous rage had caused the villain’s corpse to combust into ashes.

It was true, certainly, that Nie Mingjue helped Jiang Cheng down the mountain, letting his friend lean on him even though he was wounded as well. And whenever they met after that day, if they could, they would isolate themselves from others for however long they could get away with, bearing together the weight of knowing what had become of Wei Wuxian.

Whatever had happened on that mountain with Wei Wuxian, though, the worst blow to Nie Mingjue’s remaining innocence came from their allies rather than their enemies. Jin Guangshan had lost no time in making a claim over Wei Wuxian’s research, calling it compensation for the loss of his son. Jiang Cheng, exhausted by what he had just gone through, still ended up having to argue in favour of destroying every piece of demonic cultivation that existed in the Burial Mound. A fight he lost, in spite of Nie Mingjue’s support. The Jins wanted proof of their victory, they wanted treasures to increase their glory… and perhaps they also wanted Wei Wuxian’s power, if some rumours were to be trusted. With Meng Yao arguing in his father's behalf, the Jins easily won that fight.

Nie Huaisang chose to let them all bicker like dogs over an old bone. Glory held no appeal, and his sect’s cultivation method was dangerous enough already without adding to it the rantings of a madman. As soon as it was confirmed that Wei Wuxian and his Wen followers had been exterminated, Nie Huaisang grabbed his disciples, his brother, and went home.

He’d had enough of sect politics for a lifetime, and intended to stay safely in the Unclean Realm for the entire year and a few months that remained until his brother could finally take the place that was his.

That decision lasted about a month, until Lan Qiren wrote him a letter that mentioned how Lan Xichen was working so hard to help him with sect business. It would be good for him to see a friendly face and relax a little, after all that he'd gone through lately.

Nie Huaisang, who had survived his early years as sect leader only thanks to the kindness and patience of Lan Qiren, found this to be a great idea. He immediately went to knock on his brother’s door and asked Nie Mingjue if he wanted to go South to Gusu, hinting that he'd be allowed to push as far as Yunmeng if it pleased him. Nie Mingjue flatly refused, because he did not want to risk running into Jin Guangyao while visiting Lan Xichen and having to be polite to him.

"That son of a whore knows what he's done," Mingjue cryptically grumbled.

That earned him a light slap on the shoulder.

"I'm the son of a whore as well," Nie Huaisang reminded him. "If you're going to insult him, at least do so over something he chose. Silver-tongued devil for example. This is still about the Jins convincing everyone to let them have most of the Yiling Patriarch's research, isn't it?"

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms on his chest, like the sullen brat that he was, and shrugged.

“You should have asked for a share of it, just so we could have destroyed it like Jiang Cheng did. A little less evil in the world wouldn’t have hurt.”

“It’d have been a lot of trouble for not much result,” Nie Huaisang pointed out.

“Yes, isn’t it funny how Jin Guangyao knew exactly what to say to make you give up?”

They glared at each other, as they had done nearly every time this particular topic came up. Knowing how easily it could devolve into a full blown argument, Nie Huaisang decided to quickly redirect the conversation to its original subject.

“A-Jue, you’re going to Gusu and that’s final. It has to be you. The only reason Xichen has ever put up with me was for the sake of my friendship with Wangji… and Wangji is still in seclusion for a long while.”

"You're an idiot," Nie Mingjue announced.

"Hey ! You owe me respect!" Nie Huaisang protested with another slap to his brother’s shoulder.

"Only when you deserve it,” Nie Mingjue retorted, sticking out his tongue before getting more serious than the conversation really necessitated. “Listen, Xichen respects you a lot. He's convinced that you're smart and funny, which shows there's no accounting for taste. And you rescued him in Nightless City when his brother left to pursue Wei Wuxian to kill him, right? So he'll be thinking even higher of you now, and he'd be happy to see you. You should take Lan Qiren’s invitation."

It was tempting, certainly. Nie Huaisang never had so much fun as when he could tease Lan Xichen, and he did like the Cloud Recesses immensely. It was one of his many regrets that he'd never had a chance to study there, like most young cultivators of good birth did. It would be so lovely to spend perhaps a week or two there, getting to chat with Lan Qiren, walking around with Lan Xichen, maybe even taking him for a day out in Gusu…

He wanted it so much.

"I just don't have the time for it," Nie Huaisang decided, opening his fan to distract himself. "There is so much to do around the Unclean Realm, I can't possibly go away like this. No, you should go, A-Jue. It'll be more fun for him like this. You're his actual friend instead of some creepy old man. And you need the fun as well!"

"I could look after the sect while you're gone," Nie Mingjue suggested. "It'd just be a few weeks."

His brother startled at the suggestion.

"Not until you come of age," Nie Huaisang reminded him, closing his fan with a snap. "I'm not letting you waste your youth. No, you're going to Gusu and you will have fun, that's final."

“Da-ge!”

“Go pack your things,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “Ah, you’ll have a great time, I’m sure. Do make sure to bring me back some Emperor’s Smile, or else your Da-ge will be very cross!”

Nie Mingjue went to the Cloud Recesses, and spent a few weeks there. When he returned, he carried twin messages from Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, who both insisted that Nie Huaisang come visit them too.

“They’re just being polite of course,” Nie Huaisang said when they were alone in his room, opening the jar of wine that his brother had brought him, like the good boy he was. Of course it was only one, because Nie Mingjue disapproved of him drinking too much, but that he bought it at all was already something.

Nie Mingjue huffed, and snatched back the jar from him.

“No, Lan Xichen was really sad not to see you,” he grumbled. “And so was Lan Qiren. Da-Ge, you really should go. It would be good for you to take a break. You haven’t looked well since Nightless City.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Nie Huaisang objected, trying to get back his wine, only for Nie Mingjue to raise it high above his head, like the unbearable giant that he was. “Mingjue!”

“You work too much. Take a break. Go to the Cloud Recesses. I’ll look after the sect. I don’t mind.”

Nie Huaisang hopped, but Nie Mingjue only had to raise the jar higher still. He’d grown so big, just like their father. Bigger, even. Nie Huaisang had never felt dwarfed by their father the way he did next to Nie Mingjue, and his brother was not yet fully down growing… which was the issue, of course.

“Mingjue, already you’re going to become sect leader so young! And I’ve failed you during the war because I had no choice, because nobody would have taken me seriously as a war leader, but now we have peace and I refuse to burden you again before your time. It’s my duty to you, I have to protect you.”

“What if I don’t want to be protected from this?” Nie Mingjue retorted. “What if I’m tired of seeing you like this all the time?”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Nie Mingjue sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t think you’ve been fine a single day since father died,” he muttered. “And it’s been worse lately. I worry for you.”

“Don’t,” Nie Huaisang snapped. “It’s not your job to worry about me. Your job is to be young and enjoy your life while you can.”

“Can’t enjoy much when my Da-Ge only stops looking sad if he has a bowl of wine in hand,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. He hesitated for a second, then turned upside down the jar he was holding, pouring all its contents on the floor while Nie Huaisang cried in horror. “If you want Emperor’s Smile, go get it yourself. I’m sure Xichen would be delighted to spend a day in Gusu with you.”

“Mingjue!”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, and chucked the empty jar at his brother before leaving the room.

Nie Huaisang wanted to run after him to scold him, because he had been looking forward to drinking that with an excitement that few things provoked these days… but saying that would only have proven Nie Mingjue’s point, of course. So Nie Huaisang just sighed, and called for a servant to clean that mess.

His brother really was worrying for nothing.

He was doing just fine.

After a month of atrocious nagging from his brother, Nie Huaisang gave in and wrote to Lan Qiren to ask whether the invitation had been in earnest or just a matter of politeness. In case it was the second, he made sure to point out that he was writing at Nie Mingjue’s insistence, who seemed to want to get rid of him. To his surprise, he quickly received an answer that confirmed he was extremely welcome, the tone of which seemed to imply that Lan Qiren thought he had made that clear already.

Attacked on all parts, Nie Huaisang surrendered and headed South.

It was early spring when he arrived to the Cloud Recesses, which was not a bad season to be there. A little muddy, and a little cold still, but the first flowers were coming to life, and some birds were starting to return from their winter quarters. It really was such a pretty place. Every time he came there again, Nie Huaisang was struck by how much he enjoyed it, how peaceful it was compared to home, how elegant in a way none of the other sects could ever achieve.

It soothed his soul to be there, though he would never have admitted it out loud.

The company helped make his stay particularly pleasant, of course. Lan Qiren, when he could find a moment of freedom, was always a delight to chat with, cultured in a way that Nie Huaisang could only dream to be, with always a book or poem to recommend. And it was always nice to chat with a fellow sect leader who not only valued Nie Huaisang’s experience with the job, but understood his values and choices.

Mostly though, Nie Huaisang spent his time with Lan Xichen.

He had feared, when he arrived, that the younger man would want to talk about Lan Wangji. But the most Lan Xichen ever said on that subject was to give more details about his brother’s punishment, and to explain his recovery and subsequent seclusion were taking place in their mother’s old house. Nie Huaisang mentioned that he found it in poor taste, to which Lan Xichen, although clearly agreeing, said that it was his brother’s choice. Once they had said that, neither of them spoke of Lan Wangji again, still too shocked by the choices he had made.

Although deeply impacted by what had happened in Nightless City and a little more sombre than he used to be, Lan Xichen was still the same young man as before, and his company as much of a delight as ever. If Nie Huaisang had still had any doubt that his presence was wanted, it would not have lasted long under Lan Xichen’s attentive care. The young man had made many plans for the two of them, so Nie Huaisang could make the best of his time in the Cloud Recesses. When the weather allowed, they went on long walks to see rare flowers, wild birds, or beautiful landscapes hidden away in the mountains. If it was raining or too cold, Lan Xichen would give him an extended tour of the library, or sneak him into classes attended by guest disciples, so he could get a taste of what his father’s passing had deprived him of.

On a particularly sunny day, Lan Xichen offered that they go in Gusu to visit the market and to let Nie Huaisang eat something a little more to his tastes than the usual fares of Gusu Lan.

It was lovely to walk side by side in the busy street, stopping every time something caught their eyes, chatting carelessly about any inconsequential matter that crossed their mind. They tasted as many types of food as they could, with Nie Huaisang taking particular delight in buying meat and candies for Lan Xichen. The younger man protested at first, but as the day advanced he had relaxed enough to let Nie Huaisang spoil him, blushing beautifully whenever Nie Huaisang handfed him a piece of candied fruit or some roasted lotus seeds. Sometimes, on accident, Lan Xichen’s lips would brush against Nie Huaisang’s fingertips.

Neither of them would comment on that, but Nie Huaisang found himself very amused by this game between them, and by how daring Lan Xichen could be when he wanted.

It was an excellent day, through and through, which nothing could have ruined.

Nothing except a letter that had arrived from Lanling while they were out.

It was hardly proper for Nie Huaisang to have followed Lan Xichen to his room this close to curfew, but they were both still so giddy from their day out that they had decided they did not want it to finish so soon. So Lan Xichen had invited the older man to have tea in his room, arguing that the house in which he lived with his uncle had several unoccupied bedrooms, should they somehow miss curfew. Had it been anyone else but this very polite and dutiful young man making such a bold proposition, Nie Huaisang might have thought that he was the target of a seduction attempt. But of course, Lan Xichen already had his mysterious lover, whoever that was, and the Lans just did not do that sort of things.

Not that it mattered anyway, because the atmosphere changed when Lan Xichen, having finished that letter he received, silently passed it to Nie Huaisang. It was from Meng Yao, of course.

He was getting married.

Not only that, but the future bride, Qin Su, was the daughter of one of Jin Guangshan’s closest and most powerful allies. Nie Huaisang knew her. A pretty girl, sweet enough and a little romantic, and of course with a family that strong, she would make a great wife for a man whose father never treated with the respect he deserved.

A bastard could be easily dismissed and sent back into obscurity, but the son-in-law of a sect leader would be harder to get rid of.

"He's not coming back," Nie Huaisang realised, dropping the letter. The thought hit him so hard he had to quickly sit down on the sofa that decorated Lan Xichen’s room, lest his legs gave up under him. Alarmed by that strong reaction, Lan Xichen quickly joined him, sitting perhaps a little closer than necessary, not that Nie Huaisang was in any state to notice.

"What do you mean?"

"Meng Yao. Jin Guangyao,” Nie Huaisang hissed. “I was still hoping he'd return to us in time, but he really made his choice, didn't he?"

"It's what he always wanted," Lan Xichen gently pointed out. "Shouldn't you be happy for him that it's going so well?"

Nie Huaisang grimaced. All his good humour of the day had evaporated.

"I just thought he was smarter than that. I thought he understood, having seen my troubles. Maybe we're more different than I realised."

Lan Xichen frowned slightly. "How so?"

Nie Huaisang looked at him, at that sweet, wonderful young man who had never had to fight for anything in his life, and sighed.

"It's hard to explain. I tried with your brother, once. I think he understood a little, because of that situation with your mother, but… it’s too different, and you’d get it even less.”

Lan Xichen took his hand, startling Nie Huaisang.

"I want to try anyway. If it's something important to you, I want to understand."

Normally, Nie Huaisang would have teased Lan Xichen for being too sweet and too kind, before promptly changing the subject. But it had been one hellish year, and the realisation that he had really lost Meng Yao was hitting him hard. Harder perhaps than losing Lan Wangji. They had been best friends for years, but there was so much that Lan Wangji had never managed to get, so much that Meng Yao had understood without the two of them ever needing to talk about it…

And Lan Xichen’s hand on his felt like such a comfort that he lowered his defences, knowing his young friend would never judge him.

"I am the son of a whore," Nie Huaisang sighed. Instantly Lan Xichen's fingers squeezed his hand, but the younger man remained silent, for which he felt oddly grateful. "Actually my mother was a renowned dancer, and she usually slept with her patrons only if she chose to, which is more than other women of her condition could say. It doesn't matter though. I'm still the son of a whore, and I'll always be. I don't mind, by the way,” Nie Huaisang added after a pause. “She was a good woman, a good mother, and I've decided long ago that I wouldn't ever disavow her. But it's not always… easy to be in that position."

He glanced at Lan Xichen who nodded, an impression of sincere pity on his face. He understood about bearing the weight of a mother's legacy, even if Lan Wangji had once told Nie Huaisang his brother did not know the whole truth of that matter. Because Lan Xichen had never asked, Lan Wangji had thought it kinder not to volunteer any details. And of course nobody outside their inner circle knew the truth about Madam Lan, so their situation didn’t compare with Nie Huaisang’s, but… but he didn’t doubt Lan Xichen could get this, even if he wouldn’t get the rest.

"You don't get to make mistakes with a mother like that,” Nie Huaisang explained. “Because people always say it comes from your blood if you do. Say, Zewu-Jun, would you believe me if I say that as a young child, I was even more serious and stern than your brother?"

Lan Xichen's eyes opened wide in surprise as he shook his head, making Nie Huaisang grin.

"My mother knew she was lucky to have been accepted as a concubine, and my father's first wife couldn't have children, so it seemed I would inherit the sect. I had to be perfect. With a mother like that, you have to be twice as good to be treated half as well. I didn't like it, didn't care for cultivation and politics, but I was so lucky to be the heir. I wanted to please the adults in my life, and I worked as hard as could to make them happy. Then my father's wife died. He quickly found another one, and she gave him a son within the year."

"Mingjue."

"The very same," Nie Huaisang confirmed with a fond smile, squeezing Lan Xichen’s hand. "It didn't change much at first. Babies die so easily, but I had passed the most dangerous part of childhood, so I was safe, I was still the heir. Until Nie Mingjue turned three, that is, and everyone figured he probably wouldn't die either.”

He shivered at the memory.

“You see, Mingjue's mother was from the He clan, which is pretty big even if it's not Great, while I… Well. Eldest or not, I was the son of a whore, of a concubine. And suddenly, with a better heir in view, it started annoying some people that I was so serious and perfect."

He still remembered the way things had changed so suddenly. He'd been ten at most when the elders started looking at him like he was a vermin to be squashed under their boot, when a week prior they'd been praising his hard work. It made him shiver again, prompting Lan Xichen to take his other hand as well as if to comfort him, sweet boy that he was.

"My mother was a clever woman,” Nie Huaisang chuckled darkly. “She encouraged me to become… less serious. I never had much natural skill for cultivation, so once I stopped putting in the work, I quickly fell behind. I avoided the training ground in favour of painting and running after pretty birds. It was a very weird few years. People scolded me and called me ungrateful and lazy, but I could tell they liked me better like that. The son of a whore has no business being skilled in anything serious. Before long, Nie Mingjue was declared the new heir, with a provision I'd still rule Qinghe Nie if our father died before Nie Mingjue was old enough."

Nie Huaisang laughed again, tasting bitterness in the back of his throat.

“It was only a precaution of course. Father was a strong and healthy man. Even with our family’s history of Qi deviations, it seemed very unlikely he would die until Mingjue was well into adulthood.”

“But he did,” Lan Xichen whispered. “And I know you’ve encountered some… opposition when that happened.”

Four murder attempts that Nie Huaisang knew of, the first of those two weeks after his father's death when he'd been just sixteen, at least one of which had been against both him and Nie Mingjue, while another had poisoned his mother instead.

Opposition indeed.

“Nobody wants to be ruled by the son of a whore,” Nie Huaisang muttered. “I think that’s what Meng Yao is aiming for now that Jin Zixuan is dead, but it won’t work for him any better than it did for me. In fact, it’ll work worse for him than for me, because Jin Guangshan isn’t my father, and he knows Meng Yao isn’t me. My father trusted that if it came to that, I really would only rule in Mingjue’s name until he was of age. He was a good man, and he believed the people he loved were good too.”

A belief most elders of Qinghe Nie had not shared, no matter how much Nie Huaisang had dedicated himself to his brother to prove his good faith.

“You think Guangyao-ge wouldn’t act like you?” Lan Xichen cautiously asked, clearly upset that anyone would think ill of his friend. “That he would still Jin Ling's place for good?”

Nie Huaisang considered the question a moment before shrugging.

“I don’t know what he’d do,” he admitted. “But I know what Jin Guangshan believes, and that’s more important. He only accepted Meng Yao into Lanling Jin because it would have been difficult to turn away the man who killed Wen Ruohan. And then… you said it yourself back then, it would have been difficult to get rid of Meng Yao once he became the sworn brother of two youths as famed as you and Mingjue.”

Even at that time, Nie Huaisang had thought the brotherhood had been a bad idea. This only confirmed it. Without it, perhaps Meng Yao would have returned already. Without it, Nie Mingjue might have had more space to navigate his resentment, and found a way to forgive Meng Yao.

Not that Nie Huaisang would ever have said that to Lan Xichen, for fear of hurting him. Sometimes, the truth was not worth sharing.

“Men like me and Meng Yao just aren’t meant for this,” he sighed. “There is no place for us in the cultivation world.”

“There is!” Lan Xichen protested, squeezing his hands so hard it was nearing on painful. “Nie zongzhu, you are such a great sect leader! Uncle always says how well you’ve been doing even when everyone was against you, how Qinghe Nie is just as strong as it was in your father’s days. And you’ve taken such good care of Nie Mingjue! He’s a very upright person who always stands for what’s just, even when it’s not easy. And he’s very happy to have you as a brother. He really loves you a lot, and he knows you love him and that you’re… you’re always going to take his side.” He sighed, thinking of his own brother perhaps, then smiled brightly. “Nie zongzhu, you’re an amazing person.”

Under such heavy praise, Nie Huaisang’s cheeks started burning. Usually, when he chatted with Lan Xichen, he was the one to give compliments until the younger man was redder than cinnabar. To be given a taste of his own medicine was impossibly uncomfortable, especially when he knew Lan Xichen never said anything he did not mean.

“And you’re too sweet with this old man,” Nie Huaisang laughed, awkwardly pulling his hands away so Lan Xichen wouldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating. “Ah, I shouldn’t have bothered you with all this, you don’t care about my life. And as for Jin Guangyao…”

“Nie zongzhu, you didn’t bother me at all,” Lan Xichen protested, daringly putting one hand on Nie Huaisang’s knee. “I am truly happy that you trusted me enough to tell me these things. I’ve told you, if it’s important to you, I want to understand it, because… because you are very dear to me.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyebrows rose in surprise at that declaration, at that bold gesture, his heart racing in his chest. If he hadn’t known better, he might have thought…

But Nie Huaisang had not survived this long by entertaining silly fantasies, so he buried that idea as quickly as it had appeared, and focused on what was truly there: the friendship of a very accomplished young man, who he apparently trusted enough to share what he had never told anyone before, not even Lan Wangji or Meng Yao, and who had listened with more patience than his ramblings deserved.

“I’m glad you think of me so well,” he told Lan Xichen, patting the hand on his knee. “I don’t have a lot of friends, especially now that your brother is… absent. But what I lack in quantity, I seem to make up in quality. Any man would be lucky to have the affection of the great Zewu-Jun, and I am grateful to know you.”

Lan Xichen smiled at him so fondly that for a moment, Nie Huaisang forgot how to breathe.

He quickly recovered though, and in spite of their earlier discussion that he could stay the night in one of the spare rooms if need be, Nie Huaisang left soon after so he would not have to risk breaking the curfew. Lan Xichen looked disappointed, but it was the best course of action.

If they had stayed up, if they had kept exchanging confidence in the cover of darkness, Nie Huaisang feared he would have gotten more of those stupid, fanciful notions into his head. He simply could not risk that, not when, as he’d said, he had so few friends left already.

Very soon after learning of Jin Guangyao’s engagement, Nie Huaisang left the Cloud Recesses. Although he told himself and others that he had neglected his responsibilities too long, the truth was that he suddenly did not feel as comfortable as before around Lan Xichen. His traitorous mind kept wanting to read too much into the younger man’s smiles and warmth, which could not be tolerated. Lan Xichen deserved better than to have a creepy old man paying too much attention to him for all the wrong reasons.

When one morning Nie Huaisang found himself internally debating whether a six year difference really made him too old to flirt with Lan Xichen, he knew he had to leave.

It was nice to be home again, anyway. Certainly the Cloud Recesses were great, but home was home, and Nie Huaisang had missed his brother dearly. He was pleased to find that in his absence, his brother had done a great job with everything, dealing with daily affairs quite easily, turning to some trusted elders when something unusual came up that required more seasoned opinions. Nie Mingjue really would be an amazing sect leader when his time came, and Nie Huaisang, for the very first time, found himself sincerely looking forward to that. Up until then he had always felt guilty about it, thinking that his brother deserved better than a youth wasted in councils and paperwork, but Nie Mingjue was so proud of what he had managed during that month and a half, so eager to do more…

It was obvious that Nie Mingjue enjoyed that position, enjoyed having the power to help others. He was made to be sect leader in a way that Nie Huaisang wasn’t.

Nie Huaisang had to quickly wipe a few tears of emotions when he realised that. His little brother really had grown into a good man, and Nie Huaisang was proud to have had a hand in that, however small.

Because Nie Mingjue had done so well during those few weeks, Nie Huaisang gave in when his brother requested that he continue helping with sect business. Nie Mingjue was allowed to sit at more and more councils, even accompanying his brother when he had to go meet other sect leaders to discuss this or that matter. Nie Huaisang had originally intended that this would give Nie Mingjue a chance to learn a little diplomacy, but he quickly realised that it would likely not happen. Whatever other qualities he had, Nie Mingjue did not believe in compromises, and he refused to treat with fake deference anyone who he thought had not earned it.

It made Nie Mingjue surprisingly popular with the leaders of a number of small sects. Used as they were to Jin Guangshan’s empty politeness, or to Nie Huaisang barely concealed indifference, they usually appreciated the way Nie Mingjue would actually listen to their complaints, as well as the way he often bullied his brother into action. In particular, Nie Mingjue paid great attention to their complaints against certain new Jin guest disciples who showed little respect for anyone during Night Hunts, and seemed to use unusual methods.

There was little to be said against their use of special compasses to track evil creatures. In fact, many sects and rogue cultivators were showing great interest in that new invention, hoping that Lanling Jin would either reveal how they were made or, more likely, sell them. Even Nie Mingjue could not disapprove of that, and gladly accepted one which Jin Guangyao gifted to him.

But there were other less savoury things happening in Lanling Jin, rumours of fierce corpses captured rather than put to rest, only to be then released against other creatures to see if the two evils could be pushed to mutual destruction. And that was without getting into the problem of Xue Chengmei, a vicious boy who got into fights left and right, with allies and enemies alike, but remained under Jin Guangshan’s protection no matter how much he misbehaved. Rumour had it that he was the only person Lanling Jin had found who could make sense of Wei Wuxian’s notes, that he was the one who had recreated his compasses of evil and now worked on deciphering his other inventions.

The more time passed, the more rumours against Xue Chengmei’s behaviour reached them, the angrier Nie Mingjue became. If he had been sect leader already, it was clear that he would have confronted Jin Guangshan about his protégé. It was taking Nie Huaisang a lot of diplomacy to keep the situation manageable, fearful that his brother would accidentally start a war for which they were not ready.

Things escalated further at Jin Guangyao’s wedding when Nie Mingjue escaped his brother’s watch and confronted Xue Chengmei about some stories he’d heard recently that concerned a group of cultivators who had vanished during a Night Hunt. Nie Huaisang, who had been happily chatting with Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, had to rush to his brother’s side to stop a fight. Nie Mingjue refused to share what Xue Chengmei had said to upset him so much, and he refused to apologise as well, so Nie Huaisang had to do it for him. Jin Guangshan, already clearly unhappy at being forced to spend any money on the wedding of a bastard he despised so much, had spent the entire apology glaring at Nie Mingjue with such hatred that Nie Huaisang found himself truly fearful.

After that day, Nie Mingjue stopped coming with him on visits to Lanling. He could still accompany him anywhere else if it pleased him, but it seemed unwise to bring him to Carp Tower until things had settled down a little.

A month or two after his marriage, Jin Guangyao came to visit them in the Unclean Realm, bringing Lan Xichen with him, and he made it clear that he entirely agreed with Nie Huaisang’s decision.

It was pleasant to be all four of them like that, something which hadn't happened in a long while. They had settled for tea in Nie Mingjue’s quarters, the three young ones insisting loudly that Nie Huaisang absolutely belonged with them when he’d tried to leave them alone, forcing him to sit next to his brother, right across the table from Lan Xichen. Nie Huaisang had grumbled about being too old for their company, as he always did, but it had not taken much effort to convince him to stay. It was a very pleasant moment spent with three of the people he loved best in the world, up until Nie Mingjue made a remark against Jin Guangyao, spoiling the mood entirely.

“Mingjue, you should not antagonise my father so much,” Jin Guangyao warned with what sounded like sincere worry. “You will soon be sect leader, in less than a year now, and it is not reasonable to let personal quarrels come in the way of politics.”

“My issue with your father is entirely political,” Nie Mingjue casually retorted. “On a personal level, I have too much disdain for him to ever bother arguing with him.”

Nie Huaisang gasped, and slapped his shoulder.

“A-Jue, please behave. You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not? You say it all the time. I’m sure Guangyao-ge knows exactly what you think of his father. Damn, I’m sure Guangyao-ge thinks the same, even if he’s too polite to ever say it.”

Nie Huaisang gasped again, while poor Jin Guangyao looked down at his tea with a pitiful expression, refusing to either confirm or deny his opinion of his own father.

“A-Jue, you’re awful,” Nie Huaisang complained, reaching over the table to grab a few candied fruit that Lan Xichen had brought with him. “A-Yao isn’t wrong, a little diplomacy wouldn’t hurt you. I was so looking forward to retiring from being sect leader, but if you’re going to pick fights with every single other sect, I’ll have to stay with you instead and help keep you safe. Ah, you’re really ruining all my plans, you ungrateful child!”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, as if it did not concern him in the least that perhaps Nie Huaisang had hoped for a break from all that political mess.

Brat.

“And what are your plans then, Huaisang-ge?” Lan Xichen quickly asked to distract from politics.

Nie Huaisang smiled at him, unable to help himself.

“Well, if someone can stop making trouble for just a moment…” he poked his brother in the rib, to which Nie Mingjue only rolled his eyes. “Then I would really like to travel for a bit. The world is vast, and full of beauty that I wish to see, perhaps even to paint if I manage. I used to paint a lot as a youth, though I haven’t had the time in years.”

“I think I’ve seen some of your work,” Lan Xichen said with a nod. “You’d gifted them to my brother, and he hung them in his room. There’s a beautiful view of mountains…”

“Yes, I painted it the first time I came to the Cloud Recesses with my father. Ah, I miss painting so much… though I’m sure I’ve lost what little skill I had, after so long.”

Nie Mingjue frowned, as he did sometimes when Nie Huaisang forgot himself and became too nostalgic over his long gone youth.

“I’m sure you’d figure it out again,” he said. “And at worse, Er-ge could probably give you a lesson or two. I’m sure he’d like that.”

“I would,” Lan Xichen eagerly agreed. “And perhaps… you know, my brother’s seclusion will end not too long after A-Jue can take over Qinghe Nie. What if… Huaisang-ge, what if you came to stay in the Cloud Recesses until then, so I could give you lessons, and after maybe I could accompany you for a time in your travels?”

Nie Huaisang stopped breathing and stared at the young man. Lan Xichen’s face was quickly turning very pink, his expression fearful and hopeful all at once. The way he looked at Nie Huaisang bore such intensity that the older man had to drop his gaze, unable to withstand it.

Whenever he’d allowed himself to dream of travelling around the country, he had always pictured himself entirely alone. It was the only option, when his few friends all had so many responsibilities. And yet, it was impossibly easy to add Lan Xichen’s presence to that little fantasy of his. It would be quite nice to spend so much time together, walking or flying side by side, sharing meals, visiting beautiful landscapes, asking to meet wise men or renowned poets. Out of everyone he could have considered as a travel companion, only Lan Xichen was someone who Nie Huaisang could imagine spending months and months with and never get tired of.

It would have been so nice, and Nie Huaisang suddenly found himself desperately wanting it, now that it had been suggested to him.

“Ah, Zewu-Jun, I wouldn’t be opposed, but I doubt it’s very wise,” he replied with a weak laugh. “First of all, your uncle would never agree to let you leave.”

“I think he wouldn’t mind,” Lan Xichen protested softly. “Not if I’m going with you.”

“Oh. But then… what about that lover of yours?”

Stunned silence fell around the table, three pairs of eyes staring at Nie Huaisang as if he’d grown a second head.

“Aren’t you still waiting for him to be free from other obligations?” Nie Huaisang insisted. “I don’t know what sort of agreement you have with that man, but you have to consider that he might take it the wrong way if you travel around with someone else. I’m not saying it cannot be done as friends, of course it can, but some people might make wrongful assumptions about our situation, and your lover first of all.”

From the corner of his eyes, Nie Huaisang saw his brother and Jin Guangyao exchange a disbelieving glance, as if both were thinking they’d never heard anything so stupid in their lives. And certainly, nobody could seriously accuse a Lan of misbehaving, least of all Lan Xichen whose reputation was so excellent, but a lover’s jealousy was not something to be dismissed.

Before Nie Huaisang could say so, Lan Xichen reached over the table to take his hands in his.

“Huaisang-ge,” he said shyly, “if we travel together in the future, then I can only hope that the man I love will come to the right conclusions about it.”

Nie Huaisang opened his mouth, ready to say that of course, for Lan Xichen’s sake, he also hoped that man would not read too much into the situation.

That was when it finally hit him.

The warmth of Lan Xichen’s hands on his.

The way he blushed at Nie Huaisang’s compliments, how he wouldn’t stop smiling around him.

That story about a man who wasn’t free yet but was certain to be one day.

How everyone, for months, for years even, had been trying to make him notice this.

Lan Xichen wanting to travel with him, knowing how others would perceive it, wanting that perception to be the truth…

Seized by a sudden panic, Nie Huaisang jumped to his feet and left the room.

He did not go far, stopping right on the other side of his brother’s door. He wasn’t running from whatever had just happened, but he needed a moment to compose himself and accept that it had, in fact, happened. That Lan Xichen, for reasons known only to him, had decided that the man he loved was Nie Huaisang. That Lan Xichen, who could have had anyone, wanted a lazy and politically indifferent son of a whore, with a cultivation so low that his own juniors had to rescue him during Night Hunts sometimes.

It made no sense, though it did confirm that those Lans really had terrible tastes in partners.

Not that Nie Huaisang found anything to complain about. If this was true (and it had to be true, Lan Xichen wasn’t the sort to play cruel pranks) then it was everything Nie Huaisang had told himself he shouldn’t want for months now. If he really was this lucky…

Just as Nie Huaisang was starting to calm down enough to consider returning inside, the door to his brother’s room opened again. Lan Xichen came out, looking rather dejected, and gasped softly when he saw that Nie Huaisang was right there. The young man hesitated for an instant, then walked closer to Nie Huaisang, his head hung low.

"It's fine if you don't feel the same," Lan Xichen whispered. "I've been happy as your friend this long, I don't mind leaving it at that."

It was too much. For once in his life, Nie Huaisang was left speechless. It had been incredible already to realise that Lan Xichen might truly want him. But to think that this brilliant young man could think himself unworthy of having his affection returned, that Lan Xichen might not have noticed how much Nie Huaisang had struggled not to abuse the friendship given to him...

If words failed him, actions would have to do. Since Lan Xichen was standing so close to him, all Nie Huaisang had to do was to extend his arm and he was able to take the young man's hand in his. It felt right, as so many things did where Lan Xichen was concerned.

They remained like that a while, silent side by side. It would have been unreasonable to make promises anyway. Nie Huaisang couldn't afford to waste time on his own life until Nie Mingjue was where he belonged.

Still, this felt like the promise of a promise, and it was already more than Nie Huaisang ever thought he would get.

After a while they went back inside, still holding hands. Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at the sight, complaining that he’d suffered so much from the way they wouldn’t stop looking at each other, so they’d better become less annoying now that they knew where they stood. Even Jin Guangyao teased them a little about it.

“And you’ll have to get your brother under control now,” he joked. “You can’t run off to be a rogue cultivator with Xichen if Mingjue keeps getting into arguments, so please teach him to keep his temper in check.”

“It won’t be my problem,” Nie Huaisang retorted cheerfully. “It’s your sworn brother and your father. You can deal with them, A-Yao. I’ll be far away in the mountains with Xichen, painting and watching him fight whatever monsters we encounter.”

All four of them laughed at that declaration, thought perhaps Jin Guangyao’s amusement sounded a little less earnest than theirs. At some other time Nie Huaisang would have taken note of that, but he was simply too happy to do so.

For the first time in many years, the future felt like something worth waiting for, and nothing else mattered.

#nie huaisang #lan xichen #nie mingjue #mdzs #xisang #tbh this chapter is 90% xisang #also it is the last happy chapter so lol consider this the end if you don't want to deal with sad stuff #jau writes #age reversal au

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wrestlingisfake · 4 years

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Bound for Glory preview

Eric Young vs. Rich Swann - Young is defending the Impact Wrestling world championship. This is only Swann’s second match since suffering a legit knee injury in January. He returned to the ring for a five-way title match at Slammiversary on July 18, where he eliminated Young. Eric “reinjured” Swann’s leg to cost him that match; when Swann was forced to “retire” on August 4, Young assaulted him again. Since then Young has gone on to win the world title, while Swann has been doing a whole “come out of retirement for revenge” storyline.

It’s funny to think about how these guys are headlining this show, considering that most fans would probably remember them best for being lost in the shuffle at WWE. But this is Impact’s level, and it has been for years. Just because these guys would be working a dark match on Smackdown doesn’t mean they can’t have a compelling main event here in a much smaller pond.

The basic “Rocky movie” approach to booking this feud would be to have Swann overcome adversity to conquer his most dangerous rival and finally win the big one. But Impact has a long history of trying to outthink that logic, and I have a long memory of them swerving away from big coronation moments. It was only a few months ago, in fact, that they were building up Ace Austin for an inevitable run on top, and then they just...didn’t do that. So Swann might win, or they might tell a story that he has a lot of ring rust to shake off before he beat Young. Nevertheless, my gut still says Swann wins the title here.

Alex Shelley & Chris Sabin vs. Doc Gallows & Karl Anderson vs. Ethan Page & Josh Alexander vs. Ace Austin & Madman Fulton - This is a four-way match for the Impact tag team title, currently held by the Motor City Machine Guns (Shelly and Sabin). Per standard four-way rules, the only way to win is by pinfall or submission, and the first man to score a fall on any opponent wins the match and the title for his team.

The North (Page and Alexander) held the title for just over a full year as various other teams broke up or drifted away from Impact, so they got to be able to say they cleaned out the division. Then Sabin and Shelley came in as the wily veterans to get a big push (which is sort of ironic when you consider their history with this company). Austin and Fulton came together earlier this year as a “rising top heel and his enforcer” act, but they ended up as a tag team when they began feuding with the Good Brothers (Gallows and Anderson). All along, there’s been a sense that the Machine Guns are just keeping the titles warm until they put over the Good Brothers.

I could see any of these teams getting the title, but it’s pretty clear Gallows and Anderson are top attractions in this company, so one way or another the title picture is going to revolve around them. One interesting wrinkle is that the Good Brothers plan to work for both Impact and New Japan, and New Japan has a tag team tournament coming up, leading into their biggest show of the year. If I’m Don Callis, I want to send Gallows and Anderson to Japan for a couple of months to soak up that exposure, and I’d want them do it while wearing Impact title belts. I’m probably getting ahead of myself with that speculation, but since I’ve got no other clear way to pick a winner, I’ll let that be why I’m going with Doc and Karl.

Deonna Purrazzo vs. Kylie Rae - Purrazzo is defending the Impact women’s title. Kylie earned this title shot by winning a battle royale on July 18, the same night Purrazzo won the championship. Since then Kylie has won the Warrior Wrestling women’s title, but that belt isn’t at stake here.

It was just about a year ago that Kylie debuted here, coming off a surprisingly abrupt exit from AEW. It’s always felt like Impact wanted to do a slow build to her as the face of the women’s division. And yet, Impact has also given Purrazzo a strong push since her debut in May. Each of them would be my pick to win against any other woman in the company right now. But against one another, it’s real tough to choose. Feels like almost every match on this card is a pick-’em, which is a good thing.

I’m gonna go with Kylie to win just because she makes me happy.

EC3 vs. Moose - Moose has spent most of the year as the self-proclaimed “TNA world champion,” but EC3 stole his belt and I’m not sure what happened to it and I’m not sure either guy still cares about it at this point. EC3 gained his widest exposure to fans in his NXT/WWE run, but Impact viewers know he really made his name in this promotion, back when it was called TNA. “EC3” literally stands for “Ethan Carter III,” from when his gimmick was that he was the (kayfabe) nephew of longtime TNA owner Dixie Carter.

The story is that after EC3 was laid off from WWE, he decided he had to exorcise his old failures, which I guess are symbolized by Moose carrying around the belt he once held. So EC3 started interfering in Moose matches and stalking him and playing cryptic videos for him and other weird stuff. This has been going on since July but EC3 has yet to wrestle for Impact in all that time. Aside from a couple of indie shows, and some ROH stuff that hasn’t aired yet, this will be his first match in 2020.

Back in July I assumed that EC3 would sign with Impact. Then when I heard he was doing stuff with ROH, I figured it was a side project before he fully committed to Impact. But after three months with no Impact matches, I’m starting to wonder if his Impact deal is a one-and-done. Actually, the fact I’m wondering that helps the match, since if I was sure he was sticking around, it’d be super obvious that he has to beat Moose. As it is, I’m still leaning toward EC3 winning, but that little doubt in my head will keep it interesting.

Eddie Edwards vs. Ken Shamrock - I lost the plot on this one, but as I recall Edwards had a vicious feud with Sami Callihan in 2018, and then Shamrock had a vicious feud with Callihan earlier this year, and now Shamrock and Callihan both hate Edwards for some reason. Incidentally Shamrock is being inducted into Impact’s hall of fame this weekend, so it’s kind of weird that they decided now is the time to turn him heel.

I think the easiest way to sum both of these guys up is that neither of them knows when to quit. They both look grizzled and stopped-giving-a-fuck, which makes them scary in the way that convicts in movies seem scary. Now that I think about it, I’m surprised it took so long for this match to happen.

The x-factor here is Callihan, who will undoubtedly be interfering on behalf of Shamrock. I don’t know who the hell Eddie can get to counteract that; usually when he needs backup it ends up being his wife Alisha, which works better than you might expect but still not all that well. I guess if Davey Richards was going to return, this would be a cool way to set it up. But failing that, I don’t think Eddie can win this match.

Rohit Raju vs. Chris Bey vs. TJP vs. Jordynne Grace vs. Trey Miguel vs. Willie Mack - Raju’s “X division” title is on the line. This is being billed as a “six-way scramble match.” I tend to think that’s just a cute name for a standard six-way match, where whoever scores the first fall on any opponent wins the match and the title. Of course, in WWE a “scramble match” was a specific stipulation where whoever scores the last fall in a specified time period is the winner. But I think if Impact was trying to bring those rules back, they’d have made a bigger deal about it, and I would have heard something about it by now.

The backstory here is that Bey was getting a big push and beat Mack for the title, and Raju started lobbying to be his henchman. This led to Bey vs. Raju vs. TJP, with the idea that Raju would help Bey against TJP, but Raju went into business for himself and won the title. So now everybody is gunning for Raju, including Trey for some reason I forget, and I think Grace just got thrown in there to make it more interesting. Basically, Raju was a prelim guy before any of this happened, and he’d be the underdog against any of these opponents, so you’re supposed to think he’s doomed in a match against all of them.

I’m a tad surprised Grace is involved, because it wasn’t all that long ago that it was Tessa Blanchard as the woman chasing the X title, and then the world title, and that didn’t work out so well. Then again, Tessa’s gender was hardly the reason that run fell apart, so maybe Impact is determined to do it again until they get it right. Thing is, if you want to seriously present a woman winning a men’s championship, you want the champion that puts her over to be stronger than Rohit Raju. So if they’re gonna do it, I’d say they should do it later, with Grace challenging one of the other guys for the title one-on-one.

Anyone could win this match, but it’s a real old trick to have the most hated heel be the biggest underdog, and then he steals a win after his opponents destroy each other. So I’m going with Rohit to retain.

20-person “Call Your Shot” gauntlet match - This is a timed interval gauntlet match, similar to WWE’s Royal Rumble. Two participants start the match, and each additional participant enters at regular intervals. (I don’t think they’ve said how long the intervals are, but I’m guessing 90 seconds or two minutes or something.) For most of the match, a competitor can only be eliminated by leaving the ring over the top rope and placing both feet on the floor; however, once all but two wrestlers are eliminated, the rules change so they can only lose by pinfall or submission. The last person left in the match is the winner and earns the right to a title match against the champion of their choice.

So far Impact has confirmed eleven participants, seven men and four women:

Acey Romero, of the XXXL tag team

Alisha Edwards, whose last singles victory in this company was in 2018 against AEW’s Rebel/Reba

Brian Myers, formerly known as Curt Hawkins in WWE

Havok, aka Jessicka Havok in the indies

Heath, formerly Heath Slater in WWE, with the gimmick that he hasn’t yet secured a contract to work for Impact

Hernandez, once a rising star in TNA, now some sleazy guy backstage with a giant wad of cash

Larry D, Romero’s partner in XXXL

Rhino, the former ECW/WWE star who’s been trying to help Heath get signed

Taya Valkyrie, probably best known from AAA and Lucha Underground

Tenille Dashwood, formerly Emma in NXT and WWE

Tommy Dreamer, the ECW legend, who has been feuding with Myers

The order of entry is supposed to be random, but the results of an October 20 match slotted Hernandez as the last entrant and Rhino as the first. The added stipulation for Rhino and Heath is that their jobs are on the line: If either of them wins, Rhino stays and Heath is signed, but if neither of them win, Rhino is fired and Heath can’t keep coming around asking for work.

It feels like this match has to end with Rhino or Heath winning, to pay off that storyline. In fact, I could easily see it being a deal where one appears to be eliminated, and hides off-camera until the other is thrown out, and then Josh Matthews can play Michael Cole being all shocked that there’s still hope. It feels so obvious that I’ve seen speculation that Heath needs to turn on Rhino right after one of them wins, to keep it interesting. But I think we’re all overlooking the alternative, where they’re both kicked out of the company but nevertheless keep appearing in comedy skits for weeks until they get some other chance to earn contracts. Personally, I’d just keep it simple and have Heath win leading to Heath and Rhino challenging for the tag title.

Dez & Wentz vs. Cody Deaner & Cousin Jake - This is being advertised for the pre-show. Dez (Desmond Xavier) and Wentz (Zachary Wentz) are, along with Trey Miguel, the stoner team of the Rascalz. Cody Deaner has been Impact’s resident redneck good-ol’ boy on and off for years. Jake is better known on the indie scene as Jake Something, the current Black Label Pro champion. Between the two teams, I think Impact is more committed to pushing the Rascalz, but this is another one where it could really go either way. This whole show has been really hard to predict. Let’s hope it still seems unpredictable after it’s over.

#impact wrestling #bound for glory #eric young #rich swann

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cbraxs · 5 years

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Warped [Time Warp Trio Fanfiction] - Chapter 8

Izzy ran away. Again.

She hefted on her snow coat on as she exited Joe’s house, throwing a hasty goodbye to his parents before the door slammed shut behind her. Light snow fell on the streets of Brooklyn, blanketing everything in a layer white. Izzy shivered, but not from the cold.

The Monocle Man… Mad Jack, was realer than ever. She dreaded this happening for years, clinging to the hope that maybe that incident with her and her mother was a bad dream she’d mistaken for a memory. In less than an hour, she’d met her boogie man, learned his name, and found out one of her friends was his nephew. Could she trust Joe anymore? Could she trust any of her friends?

Of course I can, she thought. Just because someone had bad relatives didn’t mean that they themselves were bad. Her maternal grandparents disowned their only daughter to the point of not even attending her funeral, but her mother was the most loving person she knew.

Izzy’s dad must have trusted Joe, too. Why else would he tell her to go find Joe if he was in cahoots with Mad Jack? If Joe was working with his uncle, something would’ve happened by now.

This opened more question for her. How did her mother know that time traveling madman? Did she know about time travel? What about her dad?

It wasn’t hard for her to believe that they knew about time travel and never told her. But why? She knew about magic. Her parents taught her what it was. They taught her how to use it, to respect, and not to abuse it. Why not tell her about time traveling?

Magic and time travel might be similar, but Izzy knew they weren’t the same. With magic, the witch or wizard was in complete control of the outcome if they studied, trained, and knew what they were doing. Time travel, at least from Izzy’s experience, wasn’t as clean cut. You could be prepared, know your history, have the means to protect yourself, but you could still be at the mercy of others. Between Master Mysterio and Mad Jack, Izzy knew how dangerous things could get.

So her parents kept it from her to protect her.

Izzy sighed, her breath trailing into the air in misty wisps. She was being a brat. For one reason or another, some kids didn’t have their parents looking out for them. She was lucky to have even one who cared about her safety. Izzy shouldn’t complain about a few kept secrets when her parents only meant to protect her. Besides, she had secrets as well. How could she be upset with her parents when she was keeping her situation away from her friends and not feel like a big fat hypocrite?

Were her parents time travelers? It made sense the more she thought about it. Her dad read her history books to sleep when she was little instead of picture books or fairy tales. Her mom would decorate their home with old-timey knickknacks that always seemed a bit more authentic than a Made in China replica.

There were other things, too. Vague memories of vacations when she was no older than three or four. Meeting people she’d later learned were dead for centuries. Trips to countries that no longer existed. For years thinking the great pyramids were white, only to find out in the fifth grade that that was hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Things she disregarded because she thought they were simple misunderstandings.

Those trips, however, ended with a visit to Egypt. Izzy remembered crying; her mother’s distressed face; cold, manic eyes that bore into her. She tried to recall more details, but it was like trying to roll a boulder uphill. Just when she was about to get somewhere, it would all come crashing back down, and she’d wind up back at square one.

Izzy tried to put these thoughts aside that night and get some rest, but the thoughts invaded her dreams, morphing and transforming into strange and weird images that confused her even further.

~*~

The next day at the Craft Shack, Izzy helped Joe pick out color chips and tried to stifle a yawn.

The Craft Shack was this local hobbyist store that carried everything an artist/seamstress/scrapbooker could ever want/need/buy and forget they had. It was meant to be just her and Joe picking out colors for their trick box, but Sam and Fred tagged along and she was happy to have them there.

Sam lagged behind, his nose in an engineering book. Despite declaring he had no eye for color theory, he chimed in every now and again, adding his two cents on what he thought about each shade of purple they looked at. Fred had… questionable taste when it came to color coordination. He seemed to think clashing colors would help them stand out more. It would, but not without damaging some corneas in the audience.

Joe was dead set on picking out the perfect colors for the trick box Izzy built for their talent show. Joe was one of the most ambitious people Izzy had ever met. The talent show wasn’t for another month, but ever since Joe asked for her help, they’ve been practicing whenever they could after school. Izzy was practically finished with the box so they could start working on the payoff of the trick instead of just the setup.

There were still things they needed to work on, outfits to buy, etcetera. It was a lot of work, but Izzy enjoyed it. At her old school, kids wouldn’t care enough to put together an act the way Joe did. She admired him for that.

“How about this one?” Joe asked, pulling out another purple paint chip.

“Dude, just pick one.” Fred waved a flippant hand at the row of paint chips. “These are all the exact same color.”

“No, they’re not,” Izzy said and picked out two different chips to show him. “Royal aubergine has more red in it than uncut amethyst, which is a lighter shade of purple. See?”

Fred nodded. “Oh, uh huh. Definitely.”

Izzy frowned. “Was that sarcasm?”

“Oh, uh huh. Definitely. Of course you can tell the difference. You’re a girl. Chicks see more colors than guys do.”

Sam shook his head. “Fred, that’s…” He blinked, reconsidering Fred’s statement. “Actually true.”

“See, what’d I tell ya? All these names are pointless. Violet Twilight? Lavender Razzmatazz? What even is a razzmatazz? Some kind of sprinkler?”

Izzy examined the last chip Fred pointed out. “It’s my middle name.”

“Lavender?” Sam asked.

“No.” She mentally kicked herself for even bringing it up. “It’s… Razzmatazz.”

Fred and Sam looked at her. Even Joe, who was previously fixated on looking at colors, turned to stare at her. After a second, they busted out laughing. Shoppers gave them weird looks as they passed by their isle.

“Razzmatazz?” Joe asked in disbelief. “So your name is Izzy Razzmatazz Shabazz?”

“Like the crayon?” Sam managed in-between laughs.

Fred wiped a tear from his eye. “How much did your parents like the letter Z?”

Izzy’s cheeks burned. “I-it was my parents’ incantation. When they did shows.”

She signed more heavily than she intended. Thinking of her parents reminded her of Mad Jack. Her hands trembled.

The boys stopped laughing. Joe noticed her shaky hands. “You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Fred said. “We didn't mean anything by it.”

Izzy clenched her hands. “No, it's not that.”

“It's Mad Jack, isn’t it?” Joe asked.

Izzy flinched. Her first instinct was to brush off his guess but then she stopped herself. She wanted to tell him the truth, to tell all of them the truth. She wanted to talk about her troubles and she wanted to talk about it with her friends.

“You’re right,” she said. “I keep thinking about… Mad Jack. Yesterday wasn’t the first time I saw him.”

“So you do know him?” Joe asked.

Sam and Fred were both equally surprised. She realized they thought she knew more than she was letting on.

“No!” Izzy insisted. “It’s not like that. I don’t know know him. Not personally, anyway. I mean, I met him once before, like a hundred years ago. Well, a hundred divided by ten, give or take a couple years—”

“Slow down,” Fred rubbed his temples. “No one said that there was going to be math involved with this story.”

“Start from the beginning,” Sam suggested.

She looked down, twisting her earrings. Words were not her strong suit.

“I know Mad Jack freaked you out,” Joe said when she was silent for too long, “but we’ve dealt with him dozens of times before.”

“We haven’t actually seen him all that much lately,” Sam added. “He might’ve given up on trying to steal The Book.”

So Mad Jack wanted The Book? It made sense. The Book was seriously powerful and could do a lot of damage in the wrong hands.

Fred smiled with confidence and punched his palm. “If we do see him again, I’m sure we can handle him.”

Izzy wanted to cry in relief. She was grateful she had such great friends that wanted to ease her worries. She felt guilty for ever questing if she could trust them. She wanted them to trust her, too. Which meant no more secrets.

“I met Mad Jack when I was little,” she said. “Me and my mom went to see the pyramids. After that, it’s blurry. I remember his face, he said something or did something. My mom was so scared. She told me if I ever saw him, I needed to run. When we went to Mysterio’s show and he tricked me, that’s what he told me. He said word for word her warning to me.”

Joe shook his head. “That’s awful.”

“No wonder you ran,” Fred said.

“I never told anyone this before,” Izzy said, “but I trust you guys, which is why…”

“Why what?” Sam asked.

She had to tell them about her dad. But not here. Not like this. Her situation wasn’t exactly normal, and she’d already dumped a bunch on them today. Telling them would be easy, but how they’d handle it was a different story.

“Brownies,” she said. “We need the Brownies of Coping.”

The boys all looked at each other, confused. Fred was the first to ask, “Uh, the what of what now?”

“There's a lot of to go over,” Izzy said, “and I feel like if I start babbling about it next to the yarn, someone will overhear and I’ll get vaporacted.”

Joe frowned. “You mean baker acted.”

“That’s what I said.”

Fred held up his hands. “Wait, wait, wait. I’m all for free food, but why do we need brownies?”

“To soften the blow of difficult news,” Izzy explained, “you always need the Brownies of Coping. Whenever my parents had some hard news to tell me, like when my goldfish drowned, or that the Easter bunny wasn’t real, they’d make me brownies and—why are you guys looking at me like that? Do your parents not do this?”

“Uh, no,” Fred said. “That’s weird.”

Joe elbowed him. “It’s not weird. It’s just… not exactly common.”

“Because it’s weird.”

“Wouldn’t this tradition of yours lead to emotional eating?” Sam asked.

Izzy looked at him like he spoke in French. “What else are we supposed to do with brownies? They're not for show.”

“That's not what I... Never mind.”

“Well, if you’re making free food, I’m down,” Fred said. “What about you guys?”

~*~

Monday after school, Izzy weaved through the crowd on her way to her locker. The hall was filled with students heading to after-school clubs, chatting with their friends on their way to the car circle, and rushing to make it to their busses on time. By now, Fred would be on his way to baseball practice, Sam to mathletes. Joe had left earlier that day to get his braces tightened.

As Izzy stuffed her textbooks into her locker, a sheet of paper fluttered to the floor. She sighed. It was the pop quiz she had in math that morning. A big red 48% stared back at her, the second F she’d gotten on a math test since she’d transferred to H.G. Wells High. Mrs. Reynolds, her Algebra I teacher, talked to her after class about getting a student tutor to help her. Izzy didn’t mind asking for help, she was never the best at school. But getting help from another student felt embarrassing.

Why did they have add letters to math? Izzy thought. Letters, her only weakness.

She bent to pick the test up as a group of giggling girls headed down the hall behind her. One of them waved at her.

“Hey, Isabella,” she called out. “Loooove those pigtails, girl!”

“Too cute!” Another one said.

Izzy waved back. “Thanks, I—”

Their attention was already off her and back on each other, laughing as they headed towards the bus circle.

Izzy stood and grimaced. Those girls spoke at her, not to her. It left a bad feeling in her gut.

“Hey, Izzy!” A voice called.

It was Sam, making his way upstream through the crowd.

She crumbled the test and smiled. “Hey, Sam. I thought you had a meeting with the mathletes today.”

“I did,” he said, having reached her, “but Mrs. Reynolds had to cancel and go home. Something about faulty flip-flops and a cactus? Anyway, I figured, I meet up with you.”

“Cool.” Izzy tossed the test into her locker. “I could use your help moving the box to the theater, that is if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all, that is if I can even manage to move it. How big is it?”

She pulled her hands apart and squinted at the distance between them. “It’s about Joe’s size plus some… so about a Joe and a half?”

“Very specific.”

~*~

At shop class, Mr. Morrison greeted them. “Miss Shabazz and friend, welcome.”

Mr. Morrison was a middle-aged guy with long sandy hair and a scruffy beard. He always wore flannel and a permanent smile. Izzy didn’t take shop class, but Mr. Morrison was happy to let anyone who took interest in shop use the tools after school.

“Hope you two don’t mind some company while I run out to get your cart. I got someone coming to fix the projector— Oh speak of the devil.”

A girl with long dark hair up in a ponytail strolled in, her hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie. If Izzy had been drinking, she would’ve spat it out. Sam made a terrified noise in the back of his throat.

Rin scowled at them.

“Y-y-you have students fix your electronics?” Sam asked Mr. Morrison.

“Isn’t that against several rules?” Izzy asked.

Mr. Morrison laughed. “So is leaving you alone with power tools every day while I go chat up that cute math teacher.”

“Wait, it is?”

Rin shook her head in disbelief.

Mr. Morrison clapped Rin on the back. “Patinkin here works better than the people who get paid to do it, and she actually comes down when you ask.”

“For a price,” Rin said.

“Of course, of course. I didn’t forget again.” He brought her over to the projector, explaining what didn’t work.

Meanwhile, Izzy showed Sam the chest she’d been working on. It was a simple solid wood chest, with vintage gold corner protectors and swirly designs carved along the sides. A lotus flower was carved onto the lid.

“Wow,” Sam said. “You made this yourself?”

Izzy nodded proudly. “Yup. I designed it after my parents’ chest.”

“Why don’t you and Joe just use that one?”

Izzy deflated a bit. “I had to leave it behind when I, uh, moved. I’ll explain later.”

Sam frowned but nodded. He inspected the chest with interest. “How’d you learn to do this?”

“My mom taught me. That woman was the queen of power tools.”

“You’re lucky,” Sam said. “I can come up with ideas, but I’m not the best at executing them.”

“I can help you build stuff,” she offered, “if you want a flying car made out of wood, nails, and a mess of gorilla glue.”

Sam chuckled. “Thanks, but that wouldn’t be at all practical.”

Izzy’s laugh was cut off by Rin banging the projector with her fist. “What did he do to you this time,” Rin muttered to herself. She mumbled curses under her breath and scrutinized the projector like a car that wouldn’t start.

Sam gulped then cleared his throat. “W-what’s wrong?”

Rin shot her eyes at Sam’s so fast he flinched. She glared at him for a second, before sighing in resignation. “Morrison manages to break this thing at least once a week. Usually, I can fix it by blah blahing the blah and blah, but I have no idea what wrong with it this time.”

Sam cautiously walked over to her. “These projectors are pretty old. There’s a component that pops out of place sometimes when it gets overheated. Have you tried blahing the blah blah?”

“I did blah.”

“Uh, what about blah blahing the blah blah?”

Okay, so they weren’t really saying “blah blah blah,” but Izzy couldn’t comprehend their technobabble. They might as well have been doing Chinese Sign Language.

Well, at least Rin understood what was being said. She tinkered with the projector as Sam suggested. It whirred to life and the light flickered onto the wall. Rin sighed and dropped her head. “Finally.” She slipped something silver into her hair that looked a bit like a flattened wrench. It disappeared into her mane of dark hair before Izzy could get a better look at it.

Sam headed back over to Izzy.

“Hey!” Rin called out.

Sam flinched. “Eep! I mean, yes?”

“Thank you.”

Sam stood there, stunned. “You’re welcome.”

Mr. Morrison pushed the cart into the room. “I come bearing gifts! Your payment, Patinkin. Heads up!”

He tossed Rin a can of Cherry Bovine. She caught it effortlessly and cracked it open. She threw Sam one last glance before downing the drink and sauntering out of the room.

“You pay her in energy drinks?” Sam asked.

“Those were her terms,” Mr. Morrison. “Now, let’s load up this chest, shall we?”

~*~

“So what do you think Izzy wants to tell us?” Fred asked Joe.

The two of them waited at the porch of Izzy’s apartment complex and tried not to look like stalkers. Joe’s mom dropped him off after his dentist appointment and Fred showed up a little later, fresh out of practice.

“Beats me,” Joe said. He winced. He’s gotten his braces tightened before and knew how to combat the pain by taking some ibuprofen beforehand. But the anesthesia was wearing off and his mouth was beginning to ache. “She already told us her history with Mad Jack. What could top that?”

Joe fiddled with the object in his hand—some miscellaneous plastic and Styrofoam pieces mixed with a few rubber bands in a plastic sleeve. He’d been thinking about the same question Fred had since Sunday. He couldn’t figure out what was so bad Izzy felt like she needed to give them food as some sort of apology.

Fred blew rings into the cold air. “Maybe she— oh there they are. Hey guys!”

He waved at Sam and Izzy bounding down the sidewalk towards the two of them. Izzy spotted them, and smiled, waving back enthusiastically. “Joe! Fred! Were you twowaiting here long?”

“I can’t tell,” Joe said, “my watch froze.” He handed her the object in his hand. “Here. You’d appreciate this a lot more than me.”

It took her a second to understand what it was. She grinned. “Is this one of those DIY whirly helicopter toys?”

“Yeah,” Joe said. “The dentist still thinks I’m ten. I usually toss ‘em.”

Izzy oohed and ahhed at the toy as she let them in.

“I guess it’s true what they say.” Fred shrugged off his jacket. “One dude’s trash is another chick’s treasure.”

“The treasure, in this case, being a child’s toy that will break in six minutes,” Sam said flatly.

Izzy’s home was a cozy little studio apartment. Some paintings hung on the wall he recognized as hers. There was a TV almost as long as Joe was tall across from a pink and turquoise bed-sized couch with matching polka dot pillows. Comics and art supplies were strewn across the coffee table.

Looking around, Joe noticed how small her apartment was. He rubbed his achy jaw. “You live here with your dad?”

Her face darkened and he mentally kicked himself. He hadn’t meant to sound rude.

“I’ll explain in a bit,” Izzy said. She dropped her backpack and made a beeline for the kitchen, letting her rabbits out of their cage on her way.

“Cage” didn’t do it justice, it was a three-story bunny condo that took up a big chunk of the room, filled with toys, deluxe, fluffy bunny beds, and plenty of room for the rabbits to hop around in.

Dini hopped out to greet them. Bess turned her nose up at them and stayed in her condo.

“I think your rabbit hates us,” Fred said to Izzy, scratching Dini on the back.

“She’s just a shy baby,” Izzy said. She pulled something from the freezer. “You guys wanna give them a treat? They like Bok Choy.”

She handed Joe an ice pack.

“This doesn’t look like Chinese cabbage,” he joked.

She chuckled. “It’s for your jaw. It looked like it hurt.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He was caught off guard by her gesture, he barely noticed the ice pack was the girliest shade of pink dotted with white hearts. Fred snickered at him but otherwise didn’t say anything.

The three of them fed her rabbits Bok Choy while doing their homework. Well, Sam did his homework. Joe and Fred thumbed through her video game collection. There were the expected things like DDR, Guitar Hero, some sci-fi and fantasy RPGs for the Wii. Then he saw the last thing he expected to see.

He pulled the game out. There was no mistaking the grungy white font splattered with blood and gore, and the ominous hill in the background. “What are you doing with a copy of Hill of the Dead?”

Izzy smiled embarrassingly and scratched her cheek, smearing flour across her face. “I, uh, really like the atmosphere?”

“Seriously?” Fred asked. “We played this game when it first came out. The lights were on and Sam still nearly wet his pants.”

“I did not!” Sam protested.

“He totally did,” Joe said.

Sam turned his glare from Fred to Joe before rolling his eyes and returning to his homework.

After an hour, the brownies were finally done. Izzy called them over to the breakfast bar and handed them each a napkin.

“I haven’t made brownies in a while,” she said, cutting them each a neat square piece. “I hope you guys like them.”

Joe placed the ice pack on the bar. “They smell amazing.”

Fred was the first to scarf one down in his usual way. He stiffened as if someone flicked him in between the eyes. “Oh, my God…”

“What’s wrong?” Izzy asked. “Did I add too much salt?”

“These brownies are incredible!” Fred grabbed the pan of brownies and started cutting himself a large slice. “Izzy, marry me and make these for me all the time. Better yet, I’ll just marry these brownies.”

Sam rolled his eyes and brought his brownie to his mouth. “Fred, they can’t be that–”

Fred pushed Sam’s hand to shove the treat into his mouth. Sam’s pupils dilated. “Holy cow.”

“Right?!”

Joe took a bite out of his brownie and understood. They were fluffy and sweet—but not too sweet—with the chocolate morsels still warm. It melted in his mouth.

“How did you manage to bake happiness into these?” Joe asked.

“It’s just butter and love,” Izzy said, “It’s my mom’s recipe.”

“I can taste the love,” Sam said, getting another slice.

Izzy poured them each a glass of milk as they chowed down on brownies. “Okay,” Joe said coming back up for air. “You sweetened us up enough. What did you have to tell us?”

The three of them looked at her expectantly. She put down the gallon of milk and sighed, lacing her fingers together. “You already noticed that my place is pretty small. Well, that’s because my dad doesn’t live with me. I mean, he used to, but he left a couple weeks ago.”

“So you live all by yourself?” Joe asked.

“It’s not that bad,” she lied. She didn’t look them in the eye.

Fred’s expression turned serious. “Oh, man.” Then he grinned. “You could totally through a wicked party here!”

Izzy frowned. Joe and Sam gave him a Seriously? look.

Fred cleared his throat. “Just a thought.”

“Anyway,” Izzy said, “weeks ago, my dad disappeared in the middle of the night. He left me a letter explaining some things.”

She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Joe. He looked at her and she nodded, giving him the go-ahead to read it aloud. “Isadora, when you wake up, I will be long gone. I can’t say for certain where I’ll be. I need you to follow my instructions very carefully. This is extremely important. It’s a matter of your safety.”

So far, so strange, Joe thought. He kept reading.

“Pack up your things and move out as soon as possible. I put the address on the fridge; a moving crew will help you. Our home is no longer safe. Afterward, you NEED to destroy this note.”

Joe looked at her. “This isn’t going to blow up in my face, is it?”

Izzy shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

That’s reassuring, he thought. “Put these earrings on IMMEDIATELY. “Spin them so the sand is always pouring. The sand moves slowly, so you won’t have to do it often. I’ve enrolled you into a new school on Friday. Find the magician named Joe.” Joe shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “He can protect you if the need arises.”

“Why Joe?” Fred asked as if reading Joe’s mind.

Joe lowered the note. “Yeah. I don’t know your dad. Well, I know of your dad but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know me, like, at all.”

Izzy shrugged helplessly.

“Not to be that guy—” Sam started to say.

“You love being that guy,” Fred pointed out.

“Maybe your dad meant Joe’s uncle?”

That made sense to Joe. Still, he didn’t think uncle Joe knew Izzy or her dad either. His uncle would’ve mentioned them before, even in passing.

Joe continued. “Money will be left for you every week for you to buy whatever you need. There will be more than enough for you to order takeout, buy painting supplies, or some other third thing. Think of it as an apology for my absence, though I know this doesn’t make up for it.”

Izzy shrunk into herself. Joe felt weird about reading the next part, partly because it was so personal, partly because she got sadder and sadder the more he read. But she didn’t try to stop him and he already read most of it.

“I am truly sorry for leaving you with no adequate explanation. I realize I should’ve explained things to you sooner, the way your mother wanted. But we shouldn’t change the past, only learn from it. Isadora, I wanted you to have a normal life, unperturbed by the dangerous adventures awaiting you in your future. I only wanted to protect you.

“I have no idea when I’ll be back. I WILL be back. Whatever you do, do NOT go looking for me. I know it'll be difficult, but understand that I'm doing this for your sake. Love, always and infinitely, your father, Anthony J. Shabazz.”

Joe lowered the letter. The room was silent for a while as the three of them took in this information.

“Now I get why you wanted to sweeten us up,” Sam said finally.

“So your dad just left you all alone?” Joe asked.

“That’s nothing new,” Izzy explained. “He’s left before, not just the time I told you about back at the museum. I have no clue where he goes, but he’s always back in a week and we always talked about it beforehand. This time, I got no warning, no time to prepare. Everything was fine one day, and then he was gone in the morning. I…”

Her voice quivered at the end. She cleared her throat. “I know it’s a lot to ask…” She looked at Joe with pleading eyes. “Can I use your Book to find my dad?”

He rubbed his arm. “I dunno, Iz. He said not to try and find him and—”

“I don’t care anymore. It’s been too long. I need to know that he’s okay. Please, Joe?”

Joe wasn’t sure. Her dad was pretty clear in the letter for her not to go after him. Joe may not understand what was going on with him, but it was obvious that whatever it was, it was serious. Izzy should stay put until he came back.

But then Izzy gave him the puppy dog eyes, and Joe’s resolve shattered.

He sighed. “Okay. I’ll help you find your dad.”

He pulled The Book out of his bag and Sam nearly fell out of his seat. “You can’t pull that thing out without giving us a warning!”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Sam, do you know how many times I’ve had The Book on me when you were around and we didn’t warp?”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yes!”

Fred clapped Sam on the back. “Relax. Joe totally knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah, until he doesn’t,” Sam muttered.

Joe was just going to ignore that little quip for now. He’s been doing this for years at this point, and most of the time (like five—no six—times out of ten) things went off almost without a hitch. He was going to become a level three warper any day now. For a kid whose gotten minimum guidance when it came to operating a magical time machine when he was ten, that wasn’t half bad.

Joe flipped open The Book and looked for any mention of Izzy’s dad. Usually, he could find a single person, historical or not, easily if he thought about them, as if The Book was reading his intentions. But he couldn’t a single entry on Anthony J. Shabazz.

“What’s wrong?”

Izzy’s voice broke Joe out of his concentration. He realized he’d been scrunching his eyebrows. “I can’t find him anywhere. Maybe if I try looking for you I’ll get to him.”

And he did, finding Izzy easily. Isadora Razzmatazz Shabazz, born October 31st 1995, yadda yadda yadda, daughter of Dulari Shabazz and .

Joe stared at blank space in total bewilderment. “What?”

“What what?” Fred asked.

“I’m sure it’s just a mistake.” He turned the page and came across his family tree. He was ready to turn the page; he’d seen his own family tree dozens of times, but then he stopped. It wasn’t his, it was Izzy’s. A portrait of Izzy sat at the top of the tree, the thin, winding branches connecting her to her ancestors towards the base. Beneath her was a picture of her mother, a beautiful woman with long, flowing dark hair. Where Izzy’s dad’s picture should have been was a blacked out box like someone scribbled his picture out with a marker.

“This is so weird,” Joe said, half to himself. “It’s like he doesn’t exist.”

Izzy grimaced, her worry etched all over her face. Joe stood. “Let me try something,” he said. “Let’s warp back to the night he left. If we both confront him before he leaves, he’ll have to give us some answers.”

It was a long shot, but at the moment there weren’t many other options. Izzy smiled, her eyes alight with hopeful determination. “Let’s do it.”

Joe turned to Sam and Fred. “This shouldn’t take long, guys.” He opened to the transporter page.

“Wait!” Izzy bounded around the breakfast bar and clamped onto Joe’s arm.

He looked down at her. “You gonna do this every time?”

“If I can help it.”

Joe shrugged and hit enter. Green mist surrounded them and they were sucked into the glowing green cyclone of mist.

~*~

Joe would like to say that after warping with The Book for nearly six years he was a total pro. At best, five-and-a-half times out of ten he’d land on his feet after reaching his destination.

Time travel with The Book was a smooth ride as long as you were prepared and knew how to right yourself so you didn’t end up tumbling through space like a dead fish down a flight of stairs.

Unfortunately, Izzy hadn’t mastered the technique yet. As soon as they left her apartment, she lost her grip on his arm. She yelled and flailed as she plummeted along, bumping into the misty walls of the wormhole like a pinball.

Suddenly, the green mist around them stopped churning. Izzy slammed into an invisible wall and sprung back like she bounced off a trampoline. She was hurled, screaming, into Joe, the force of her impact throwing them both back to their starting point.

They dropped back into Izzy’s place, crashing right on the floor on top of each other. The Book bounced off Joe’s shoulder and slid to the TV.

Sam and Fred jumped. “You guys alright?” Fred asked.

Joe helped Izzy up. “Yeah, I think so.”

“What the heck happened?” Sam asked.

“I have no clue.” Joe explained what happened to the two of them.

Izzy rubbed her shoulder. “H-has that ever happened before?”

Joe shook his head. He hadn’t the slightest idea what the heck was going on. He’d never encountered this before. There was once or twice when one of them was stuck in The Book, midwarp, but they were never slammed into an inviso-wall and pitched like a fastball back home.

Izzy’s shoulders slumped as she went to pick The Book off the floor. “Thanks for trying anyway, Joe.”

“There might be another way,” Joe said. “I know who might be able to help.” He meant Jodie. He hated to admit, but Jodie knew how to work The Book better than anyone he knew, maybe even his uncle Joe. If anyone could help, it was her.

“You’ve done a lot already,” Izzy said. “I feel like a burden.”

“It’s no problem, really,” Joe insisted. “I want to help you.”

She smiled at him, but her eyes were sad. “It’s not fair to leave it all on you. I just wish I knew what was going on so I could help, at least…”

Izzy hugged The Book to herself, and green mist seeped from the pages, cocooning her. A final look of shock flashed across her face before she vanished into The Book.

The three of them stared in shock at the spot where Izzy previously stood.

Fred gripped the sides of his head. “We lost her again!”

“Where did she even go?” Sam asked.

Again that day, Joe had no answer.

~*~

Izzy ricocheted off the side of a pyramid and fell on her face, eating a handful of sand. She stood and spat, trying to catch her bearings. The tall white pyramid standing before her told her she was in Egypt. Ancient Egypt. She turned. Nearby, there were remnants of an old settlement. A few people milled around, but it looked abandoned otherwise, with the housing falling apart.

Further away was the palace. A sea of people gathered in front, their cheers audible even in the distance.

The Book was still in her arms, no doubt unable to slip away while in the vice grip she had on it. This was good. It meant she could just warp back home… that is if she even remotely knew how The Book worked.

“It can’t be that hard,” she lied to herself and opened The Book. “All I have to do is figure out what I have to do. Easy-peasy.”

The letters on the pages flipped and twitched and swam around. Izzy shut her eyes and breathed, trying to calm herself. If she was too freaked to even read, then there was no way she was getting back home. She needed to relax.

She exhaled and opened her eyes, the words less chaotic than before. She managed to find instructions and she stumbled through a couple pages.

A burst of yellow light in her peripheral broke her out of her concentration. After a moment, a little girl no more than three ran from around the corner and bumped into Izzy’s legs. The little girl giggled and snapped a photo of her with a disposable camera.

Izzy just stared at the child, unable to understand who she was looking at.

“Slow down, Malpua!”

A woman appeared from the corner, and Izzy’s heart sunk.

Her long chocolate hair flowed behind her as she raced to the little girl, not noticing Izzy yet. The little girl turned and snapped a picture of her mother.

The mother knelt and gently took the camera out of the daughter’s hands, a soft smile on her face. “Oh, Malpua, don’t use up all the film.”

“Sorry, Mama,” the little girl said.

Izzy dropped The Book. A lump grew in her throat, salt rubbed into the wound that never quite healed.

The woman frown at The Book, then her eyes shot wide. She looked up and met Izzy’s eyes, noticing her for the first time.

Izzy gulped. “Mom.”

#time warp trio #timewarptrio #fanfiction #fanfic #fan character #OC #joe #sam #fred #izzy #high school #time travel

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