Chapter 4 - When it comes back to haunt you

Posted on https://books.clockworkcaracal.com/dragons-heart/old-beginnings/ch4 - if you aren't there, this is a pirated copy!

"Wow, you weren't kidding about it being on the other side of the district."

Fang laughed at Jade's remark - it wasn't exactly a complaint - as they walked the rest of the final block to the gym. "Hey, do I ever exaggerate?"

"All the time," she responded easily and grinned. "You sure you don't want to join me?"

"Thanks, but I'm good." He shook his head. "You know me; I like to get my exercise outside."

"Runners," she agreed, wrinkling her nose. "You gonna go for a run, then?"

"Maybe, maybe not. My plans right now are to not have any plans."

"Living on the edge, hm?" She chuckled, pushing open the door. "All right, you go have fun with that. I'm gonna be finding out how much this place overcharges."

"Now if only you got your exercise outside..." he teased.

Jade snorted. "I'd get arrested for violence. See you later."

Fang nodded with a small wave as she walked into the building, and then turned and kept going down the road himself. His "plan to not have a plan" was, more specifically, to wander around until something presented itself - which in his experience was usually sooner rather than later.

This time was no exception. He'd only just reached the next intersection and had just decided to turn south when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Taking a couple steps backwards away from the curb, he pulled the phone out and flicked the screen on. One message, from Trace: coffee emergency.

With a chuckle, Fang sent back a quick reply of "on it", changing direction back towards their current base.

Trace had been awake when Fang and Jade had left - awake, but only because he'd been up the whole night. With the blue glow from all the displays and various clicks and mutters that accompanied Trace doing his job as literal tech wizard, Fang had only managed to fall asleep after he'd literally blindfolded himself with a spare pillowcase - and when his own phone had finally chimed him awake, his erstwhile roommate didn't seem to have moved at all.

Vanessa, on the other hand, had been nowhere to be seen. Since she wasn't prone to all-nighters like Trace, both Fang and Jade had assumed she'd been out late and was still asleep.

Which meant the obvious explanation for this "emergency" is Vanessa finally woke up... and Jade forgot to buy coffee with the groceries.

The phone buzzed again and Fang glanced down, absently weaving through the light crowd.

Trace: You are a lifesaver. Make it fast, I'm all alone here.

F: You'll survive

F: Btw how'd it go

Fang mentally rifled through the places he'd scouted out the past couple days for coffee shops as he made his way back. There were several not too far from the building, but the closest one was slightly more out of the way.

He could go faster without carrying coffees, though, so more distance before was better than more distance after.

Trace: How'd what go?

F: You were awake all night

Trace: Oh right. Hey, I didn't keep you up, did I?

Fang considered the question, ignoring his phone while he jogged to the end of the block to make the crossing before the lights changed. He could be honest and say yes, but there wasn't exactly a solution for it other than Fang sleeping on the sofa. Which he wasn't prepared to do quite yet.

F: Not really

Trace: Great. Didn't get anything game-changing but there were a couple weird pings to bounce around.

Trace: What's your ETA

Fang glanced up on reflex while he estimated the time, although he already knew exactly where he was. He could probably make it back to the coffee shop in forty minutes at a walk, fifteen if he ran, plus time to order and the coffees to get made.

Trace: Ness sequestered herself in the shower so there's a half an hour grace period.

F: I'll be there when she's out

Trace: Her familiar is oozing cranky all over the living room and upsetting all my assistants

Trace: GOOD

Well, if he wanted to make good on that thirty minute promise, Fang was going to have to get moving. Pocketing his phone, he picked up the pace, breaking into an easy jog before gradually accellerating up to a full run.

Running down on the street was physically less demanding than vaulting over rooftops, but the mental demands were different - harder, in some ways. He still had to think several obstacles ahead, but most of those obstacles were moving. People, animals, vehicles, doors which could open any moment.... Instead of picking out the terrain and plotting a path, it was predicting where people would be when he got to them and aiming for the gaps that should be there.

Several intersections, a handful of annoyed street vendors and one barely-avoided car accident later, he recognized the block as his goal and slowed back down to a jog, then a walk as he approached the coffee shop itself. It was late in the morning by this point, so the line to order was short - only one person, in fact, although a quick glance down the bar showed a couple more people waiting for their own orders.

Fang did a quick double-take. One of the people waiting was none other than Cyan, the blue-haired fey from the robotics shop. After an initial moment of surprise, he realized they were only a block away from CMY. This must be--

"Good morning." The barista at the register interrupted his thoughts with a smile. "What can I get for you?"

"Oh, uh." Fang turned his attention back to the important business he'd come for, glancing briefly at the menu screen. "I'll take a medium regular coffee, and a large mocha. With an extra shot of espresso," he added, remembering just how cranky Ness could get without sleep.

"Got it." The barista tapped the register screen a few times. "Anything else?"

"N--- actually, yeah," he decided. "A small capuccino. That's it."

The barista nodded, then quickly ran Fang through the usual milk-and-sweetener checks before giving him the total, taking his name, and sending him down to the other end of the bar.

Cyan was still there, and by that time had noticed him as well, meeting his eyes with a slight raised eyebrow.

"Hey again," Fang greeted him cheerfully. "Cyan, right?"

"That's me." Cyan smiled back. "We just keep running into each other."

"Hah, yeah." He pushed back a stray strand of his hair, looking a little sheepish. "Kind of a weird coincidence, huh?"

Cyan blinked, then his smile widened to a sly grin. "Twice is a coincidence. Three times is either fate, or a stalker."

Something about the phrase struck him, prodding at the back of his mind like looking for a sore tooth. Fang hesitated, unaware of the faint frown spreading across his face. It wasn't just the usual significance of happening thrice, there was something else... but was it worth trying to dig up?

Not in the middle of a conversation, at least. Giving himself a mental shake, he glanced around again - only to discover Cyan was picking up his own order from the counter. He grimaced, then quickly shifted it into another smile as the blue-haired elf turned back towards him.

"I'll see you around?" Fang offered.

"Most likely," Cyan answered, his tone dry.

Fang blinked in surprise at the tone shift, watching him leave--- when it suddenly clicked. The last thing Cyan had said, his own out-of-character lapse in the conversation.... He must think I'm a stalker.

He grimaced, rubbing his face with a hand as if to wipe away the expression. That would put a definite end to any future conversations, then - a thought which bothered him much more than he expected. Being mistaken somehow for a stalker wasn't the best feeling, sure, but it certainly wasn't the worst thing he'd led people to believe about himself, accidentally or otherwise. And while Cyan was cute, they'd only spoken a grand total of three times. They hadn't even reached the level of friendly acquaintance.

Fang's phone buzzed again in his pocket, pulling him away from the thoughts like a dog from worrying at a slipper. With a small sigh, he took it out and glanced down - as he expected, Trace was pestering him about the coffee again. He stared at the screen for a moment, contemplating a reply, then stuck it back into his pocket.

The coffees would be ready soon enough; he could send an update then.

Ten minutes later, Fang let himself into their new, temporary base of operations, pausing for a moment just inside the door to listen for any signs of life. The shower didn't seem to be running, which meant Ness was done, but there was no shouting and the cat wasn't growling at him from the sofa, which meant she hadn't yet emerged from her room.

Putting Ness' mocha down on the coffee table, he made his way across to the room he and Trace were currently sharing - or at least to its closed door, before rapping his knuckles against it.

A short pause later, the door cautiously opened a crack, then swung wide open.

"Finally," Trace huffed. "Do you know how hard it is to get any work done with that familiar of hers just radiating cranky vibes?"

"Here's yours." Fang held out the coffee, unfazed and with a cheerful smile. "I left Nessa's in the living room; you know how she likes to catch and kill her own prey."

Trace snorted, then choked on the laugh. "Hey, don't let her hear that."

"It's fine." Fang grinned, stepping around his erstwhile roommate into the bedroom. "You know I can get away with it."

"She lets you get away with everything," Trace grumbled, taking his coffee back over to his computer and plopping down in his chair. "Totally unfair, if you ask me."

"You're just jealous because I'm prettier than you." Fang sipped his capuccino demurely, ignoring Trace's sudden coughing fit as he choked on his coffee. "How's the search going?"

"Ugh." Trace grimaced. "Like I texted, I haven't been able to get anything done since the boss got back."

"Really? I thought she's been keeping to herself."

"Yeah, but her damn cat's spooking all my assistants!"

Fang blinked, looking around the room. "... Who?"

"You know. I thought you were like the expert on magic or something."

"What does--" Fang paused, glancing around at the room - specifically, at the room's complete lack of magical presence (aside from himself). The addition of magic to assistants clicked into place as he realized Trace must be referring to the various small magical entities, spirits and the like, which mages would summon, bind, lure, or otherwise gain the magic of for powering their own spells.

The room's previous collection of ambient spirits was notably absent. "Ahh. Those assistants."

"... You did give Vanessa the coffee, right?"

"I left it on the coffee table."

"Close enough." Trace sighed, crossing his legs on his chair. "Guess I could try coaxing them back now...."

"Should I leave the room?"

"Nah, you're fine. Might even make it easier, they seem to like you."

Despite himself, Fang winced - a tiny motion that Trace was fortunately not even looking in the right direction to see. "Is it because I'm pretty?" he joked.

Trace snorted. "Keep that up and I'll take back permission to stay."

"It's my room too."

"Fang, I swear, if you don't be quiet so I can concentrate I will drag you out of the room myself."

Fang chuckled, obediently falling quiet and resisting the temptation to challenge the skinny tech nerd to try. After all, they both knew who'd win that exchange, even if Trace enlisted the help of every single robot and piece of magic in the room.

Instead, he settled on his own bed - he hadn't brought any extra furniture, since he wasn't really the furnishings type, so the only things he had in the room were a bed and a dresser. Which suited him fine; he didn't spend much time in his own rooms back in Nexus unless he was going to sleep, anyway, and he didn't expect here to be any different.

Fang paused, about to sip his coffee, and blinked in surprise. Rather than drawing any sort of summoning circles or runes, Trace was just sitting in his chair, seeming to meditate - and a small shadow elemental was already poking its nose out of a corner of the room. It was quickly followed by two other shadows, some sort of stony thing materializing on the floor, and a swarm of miniscule light-sprites cascading in from seemingly nowhere.

I guess he made friends instead of servants. The thought made him smile; he'd seen every approach to using spirit magic possible over the course of his own lifetime - while befriending them was his personal favorite, it was also by far the least common. Most mages thought it was too unreliable. Fang disagreed, of course; apparently his teammate did as well.

Most of the entities made their way over to Trace, greeting him or going back to their "jobs" of refreshing the mage's spell-runes, but a few of the light-sprites flew over to Fang instead, spiraling around him in chaotic trails of multicolored light.

He held out a hand, smiling as the sprites danced around his fingers and arm, then turned as they darted over to the top of his dresser and bounced into something - something with a spell in it, which flared up brightly in mage-sight as the sprites touched it. Curious, he brushed them aside and picked it up.

It was the business card he'd gotten from Cyan at the repair shop. The delicate, barely-there imprint of the memory charm was no longer either of those things; the sprites, presumably because of how they usually aided Trace, had charged it up to a fully active remembrance spell. The spellwork was much more visible with the added magic, and Fang took a moment just to admire how beautifully it had been woven into the card.

Three times is fate or a stalker. The quip (or accusation, but Fang felt confident it had been intended as a joke) flitted back through his thoughts, unbidden, along with the same odd sense of familiarity. He frowned down at the card, turning his thoughts to something else. There wasn't any point in dwelling on it, and trying to dredge up old memories was never---

The youthful, green-eyed man raised his eyebrows. "Well, hello again."

"I was thinking something similar." Derek smiled broadly. "What a coincidence."

"Twice is a coincidence." The young man smiled back, impishly. "Three times, now; that's either fate, or a stalker."

He laughed. "I know I'm not, but what about you?"

"Well then, I guess it must be fate."

Fang froze. That wasn't just a similar memory. That was... he was the same person. Different coloration - but what were colors to a glamoured fey? The build was the same. The voice was the same. The smile, even that was the same.

The memories cascaded, one leading to another, like opening an overfilled closet and the contents falling over each other onto your head. Going out for coffee together. Pretending he didn't know the green-eyed man was fey. Seeing a movie and laughing about how terrible it was. Getting caught in the rain. Kissing in the rain.

Spending the night at his apartment.

Waking up to the news; a dragon and its army had landed in the city.

No. No no no--

Fang bolted, running out of the room, out of the apartment, heedless of Trace's startled shouting after him. The front door, not the balcony, but he went for the roof anyway, racing up the stairs as though he could outrun his own memories. Memories of smoke and fire, blood and death. Pain.

He stumbled onto the roof, the access door slowly swinging shut behind him, and fell to his knees, claws digging deeply into the cement. His back burned, the jagged scar from hip to shoulder throbbing like a threat to tear open once again.

Breathe. Don't think. Focus on the present.

He fought to smooth out the ragged gasps of his breath, breathing deliberately and slowly. There was no blood. No fire. The air was cool, filled with the acrid odors of a dense, engine-filled city and the faintest salty scent of the sea. The traffic below hummed and rumbled along the streets, vibrating gently through the concrete buildings like the purr of an old cat.

Fang inhaled deeply, then gently eased himself back to a sitting position and looked down at his claws - a moment of concentration later, he'd pulled the magic back inside, returning them to perfectly normal human-looking hands. The gouges in the rooftop cement, he couldn't do much about, but anyone who saw some random claw marks in the ground would assume it'd been a werewolf. Not a... not him.

With a sigh, he let his hands fall and looked up at the overcast sky. He'd been fine up to now. He was fine. All he needed to do was just... keep not thinking about it, and everything would continue being... fine.