Chapter Text
Past
“This is it,” Varian mumbled, breaking the grim silence that had overtaken the room for days.
He blinked, startled by the sound of his own voice, hoarse with disuse.
The room was dim, a bleak aura hanging over its only inhabitant. Cracks littered the bricks and rubble was strewn around the floor. Spider webs were strung around the corners of the room, and through the window above his work table Varian could see the once bustling, quaint village dilapidated and abandoned. Shiny spires of black rock protruded from the warped stone floor beneath him, a foreboding reminder of the devastation that had struck his home.
He stared up at his father, encased in amber, arm outstretched to deliver a letter that wouldn’t be read. He was frozen in a position that told of desperation, eyes shut tight. Translucent amber surrounded him in a large structure, twisting out like thorny brambles. The dim glow of the lights above shone through the amber, making it a warm yellow orange, like honey. Varian reached out to his father, suspended in the structure, as if to touch him, but his gloved hand met the face of the resin.
He had tried, over and over to free him, but still it hadn’t worked. Nothing was working. The Sundrop was utterly useless. Everyone around was utterly useless, turning their backs on him during his time of need. (And god, Rapunzel. She was a liar, it was plain to see now. “ I was so worried about you,” she had said. Well then where was she in the months after the blizzard? Where was she as he struggled and pleaded and begged alone, tossed out of the castle to fend for himself? Where was she then?)
His hand clenched into a fist.
“I’m going to fix this,” he promised, voice wavering, although Ruddiger was the only one there to hear.
He wrenched his eyes away from his dad to stare at his newest attempt to free him. This time, it would work. This time , he wouldn’t fail. The crushing hopelessness of disappointment wasn’t something he wanted to bear again. He’s not sure if it’s something he could bear again.
His newest creation was a portal, of sorts, although that’s hardly what he’d call it. He’d repurposed (stolen) blueprints that had been created by Demanitus. They were well thought out, clearly, but the purpose of the machine depicted seemed oddly vague. It was definitely meant for transportation, although Varian wasn’t quite sure the extent of it.
Nevertheless, he had fashioned some ideas from the blueprints into what he hoped was essentially a short distance teleportation device. After all, the amber itself was unbreakable, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t move what (or who) was caught inside of it. So theoretically, the device would be able to transport his dad out of the amber, freeing him.
He had sent things through, and they had ended up where he wanted them to be, although they tended to pop out more… worn than before. Not by much, but small bolts and screws he had attempted to send through came out slightly rusted and dirty before returning to normal the next morning, so, luckily, it seemed to be working.
So, he steeled himself, turning to Ruddiger, managing a wary little grin.
“Okay,” he said, mustering up confidence. “Let’s do this, Ruddiger.”
He scooped Ruddiger into his arms, the raccoon chittering amiably and climbing onto his shoulders.
Varian flipped his goggles on and stepped up to the portal, turning dials and flipping switches before stopping to hover over a large button.
He took a deep breath in, and a deep breath out.
He slammed his gloved hand on the button.
In the past, the portal had opened with a little burst of energy, and would sit like a mirror, easy for Varian to push things into.
But this time, the portal flared to life in a blaze of brilliant emerald green. The portal burned brightly, unlike the usual dim jade light.
Varian found he had to fight to keep his eyes open, even behind his goggles. He lifted a hand to shield his face from not only the bright light, but also the sudden gust of wind blowing around the room.
A sudden squall burst forth from the portal, sweeping up blueprints and books. Notes were torn from where they were hung on the walls, and his work table rattled like thunder, glass bottles and beakers clinking together as they were picked up by wind.
Varian looked around frantically, clutching to Ruddiger and caught in the eye of the mini hurricane. He ducked as a glass bottle was thrown by the wind, and it shattered against the brick wall, narrowly missing his head.
“Oh no, no no no!” He breathed, voice still hoarse, as all of the progress he made was destroyed.
Then, as abruptly as it had started, the wind stopped, and with its halt, everything began to fall back down.
Varian had a second to process what had just happened again before the portal flared into an even brighter green and began pulling things into it.
Books and notes and glass shards all flew through the vortex that the portal had become, and Varian struggled helplessly against the overpowering vacuum that the portal had become.
He made for the control panel, attempting an emergency shut down, grappling with the overwhelming force the portal was creating. The machine clanked and coughed in a way that indicated that something was definitely wrong. (Not that it needed to, because clearly something was wrong.)
Ruddiger let out a little scream, scrabbling for purchase and tearing the back of Varian’s shirt as he was caught in the whirlwind, sucked into the portal.
Varian yelped, the hand that had been shielding his face reaching forward belatedly. “Ruddiger!” He called after the raccoon, to no avail. In his moment of distraction, he was pulled off balance, and he scrunched his eyes shut as he was engulfed by the lime green glow.
-
Future
“This is it!” Varian cheered (squealed), staring down at the map clutched in his hands.
He blinked, slightly embarrassed by the odd tone of voice.
Their camp was quiet but for the comforting sound of the fire crackling in the middle of the spot they’d settled in, and the quiet hum of the summer night. Cicadas hummed their little chorus and crickets chirped cheerfully.
He looked up from the map at Hugo, who raised an amused brow at him, the sharp angles of his face lit by the yellow orange glow of the fire. Catching the warm light of the fire, Hugo’s hair gleamed a gentle honey blond, green eyes reflecting the firelight like embers twinkled with amusement.
Varian blinked, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that he had been staring, and Hugo was mocking his squeal of excitement.
Hugo stared back at him, a smug little grin on his face and condescension clear in his eyes. Varian narrowed his eyes, annoyed. Hugo apparently didn’t find it very intimidating, letting out a huff of laughter at whatever face Varian was making.
Varian elbowed him in the side in response, flustered. “Shut up.”
Hugo’s stupid smirk only seemed to grow at that. “I didn’t even say anything,” he snarked back.
Varian rolled his eyes, but deigned not to respond, because he knew they’d end up going at it all night. (And judging by the look Nuru was giving him, she would probably kill him if they did that again.)
Varian, through well practiced haggling and selling his rations for the day, had procured a map pointing as to where the next totem was, despite a certain someone’s “ingenious” suggestion of, “ Why don’t we just steal it?”
It seemed like they were on track for the next totem in record time, judging by the map in Varian’s hands, which meant he could relax for a night. He rolled up the map, walking over to his tent to stuff it into his bag, stopping to give Ruddiger a pet on the way.
A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him, and Varian stumbled, thrown off balance. Ruddiger blinked up at him, concerned, but Varian just clutched at his head, a migraine beginning to form. Ruddiger ran to alert someone, and Varian shuddered as a sudden burst of pain lanced through his head.
Varian sank to a crouch and shoved his hands over his ears, his newly formed headache being made worse by a ringing in his ears. Ruddiger tugged at his pant leg, and Varian could distantly hear his friends approaching.
Then, just as someone moved to ask if he was okay, Varian’s ears popped and the world turned bright green.
-
Past
When Varian blinked away the green burnt into his retinas, he was very nauseous. His ears rang painfully and he tried to readjust to the sudden new location. The sudden, familiar sear of a migraine made itself known, and he groaned, hands clamping over his ears to block out the sudden confused voices surrounding him.
He trembled where he sat in the grass(?), knees wobbling and head pounding. Someone stepped towards him, and he looked up through a veil of tears at someone he didn’t recognize.
They placed their hands on his shoulders, and Varian had just enough time to turn to the side and violently dispel the contents of his stomach before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.
-
Future
As Varian came to his senses again, he held a hand to his forehead, groaning in pain. He cracked his eyes open to find… no.
No no no .
Varian backed against a familiar wooden work table, dropping to sit against it. Glass shards littering the ground dug into his palms, and his eyes burned with tears. He could feel himself trembling, but it was as if he was a passive observer in his own body, frozen.
Varian sat, petrified, and surrounded by ripped notes, destroyed books, and a littering of glass shards. An odd machine whirred quietly to his right, clunky in a way that only Varian’s old creations had been. Spiderwebs hung in corners, hanging off the ceiling, and the room was dim, save for the low glow emitting from the flickering lights above. The room was dilapidated, jet black rocks jutting out of the ground like thorns, scattering pieces of the stone floor from where they extended out.
Varian stared up through the haze of pain at his dad, suspended in amber.
“Dad?” He managed, voice ragged and hysterical, before he passed out, face smashing against glass shards littered on the cold stone ground.