Chapter Text
*DING!!*
*DONG!*
*Ding!*
*Dong*
Ringing filled his ears. That mean a city was near. He was tired and it had been days since he had set off into the mountains looking for a claim. He had been told they were all empty but he didn't believe them but now he was out of food and supplies; the air was frosty; his feet were wet; and he could use somewhere nice to star a fire. He hugged the cliff's face as he edged around. The bell had just stopped when he heard a noise. He hadn't noticed the cave to his right, but it was warm, so he stepped in despite the potential danger.
"Hello?" he called. The word echoed off the stone and deep into the side of the mountain. He stepped in. "Hallo."
No response. He turned to leave. There was no point in wasting sunlight. Just as he hadn't seen the cave entrance, he hadn't seen the girl. He recognized what she was despite her tattered dress and burned face. A human girl surrounded by chucks of gold.
"Las," he stubbed to shake her shoulder.
She laid dead, all but small labored breaths. He didn't have the materials or know how to patch her wounds. He knew he could find her help in town. He packed up everything in the cave and as gently as he could draped her across his back.
The sun stayed up longer than it should be thought as he made his way to town. He reached the edge and decided it would be safer to keep her there. He pitched a tent and laid her on his cot and put some of the snow into an old towel.
"Are you making a snow pack?" an old lady asked. She was out enjoying a sunset stroll.
"Aye, and I cannea for the life of me figure it out."
"My husband used these every winter." She sat beside him. Taking the cloth and folding it. "He was worked to the bone, but we never went hungry. Here you are."
"Thank ya. Ya wouldn't happen to know where I could get something to eat?"
"My son owns the tavern. You should stop by and give yourself to warm up."
He was hesitant to leave the human, but he know he wouldn't be long. The lady showed him the tavern. It was just past the strangest statue he had ever seen. A man with two faces, one young man and on the back where his hair should've been, was an old man's face.
"The young man points east, representing a fresh outlook on each day," the lady explained. "The only man points west, representing the end of a hard day's work. Then it starts over the next."
She smiled at it, then pulled him away before he could inspect any farther. The tavern was decently priced, and he got a weeks' supplies. He even snagged an extra pair of clothes for the human he was now in charge of. He spent the next few days putting snow on her burns and blankets on everywhere else. He wrote down words she mumbled under her breath but couldn't make a sentence. He took notes on everything about her, from her burns to her hair.
When he wasn't taking notes, he was watching her sleep. The snow drip from her hand to the bottom of the tent as she twitched. She feared something, but he dare not wake her. He unwrap the melting pack and walked out to make a new one. As he wrapped it, he heard rustling from the tent. At first, he thought the human had woken up because he heard a voice, however he knew that wasn't the case when he heard a second voice .
"Oi! Out with the lot of you!" He shooed them.
"Scrooge?" He was stunned as she leaned up on the cot. No, she didn't know his name. It was just something that sounded similar.
"You're awake."
Slowly, he drifted in and sat on the stool he had propped up in the far corner. He didn't want to frighten her, so he used slow movements. He took a tin cup and poured a glass of water and held it out to her.
"Scrooge?" she asked again. He blinked.
"Do you speak English? Ya've been mumbling in your sleep for days." When she didn't respond, he sighed. "No, ya probably mimicking what those miserable miscreants were saying about me."
"Miscreants?" She said the word so much anger he thought she might be cursing at him. "They sounded like children to me."
He was shocked but that she could speak. Humans had communicate some way. Though the fact she knew English was a tad surprising.
"Ah, same difference."
"Miscreants, depraved, or villainous. Child, a person between birth and full growth. Big difference," she huffed.
"Ah, well educated too," he said, more to himself than her. "However, in these parts they might as well be the same."
"Where'd that be?" She tried to look outside but only saw snow.
"Do ya not know where ya live?" He thought she might've hit her head and held the water out towards her.
"I live at 1787 Barks Rosa Hill Duckburg, Calisota. I don't know where I currently am," she deadpanned, and eyed the cup suspiciously.
"Calisota?" That was the only word he recognized, and he was drawn towards it. He asked the next question, knowing the answer but wondering why she would leave. "That's in America, right? What's it like? What are ya doing here?"
"It's home," was all she said, as if she didn't want to talk about it. "You never answered me though."
"Oh. The Netherlands." He scratched the back of his head. He shouldn't have let his excitement get to him. She needed to rest, and he offered the drink again. "Take da drink, will ya. Ya've been out for days."
She took the cup, but she didn't drink it. He wondered why and he wished could take notes on her, but he knew it was rude. Besides, he could take some while she was asleep. He realized that her hesitation to his kindness must be because of the legends.
"Ya know da legend." Her face flashed with confusion, so he continued. "Humans are said to bring wealth to those who find themselves in their favor and some believe protection, as well."
"Do you believe that?" she asked, staring at him.
"Um, well," it was test he thought. But did he? He hated get rich schemes, but no one had seen a human since Isabella. He decided on the truth. "I don't know. That's just the story."
"Clearly. You're lucky you're cute." He felt his face go red. He hadn't expected that, but she smile as she continued. "Where did you find me?"
"In a cave nearby. Ya were asleep with a nasty burn on yar shoulder. Ya've been on the mend for a few days now." He frowned when she didn't respond and thought she might have a concussion. So he prompted her again, "The water's not going to bite, las."
She placed it on her lips with shaking hands.
"Was I alone?" she asked the now half-empty cup. He could tell she knew the answer, but needed to hear it.
"Ya were the only person up there. The snow wasn't even disturbed where ya were laying. I'm guessin' ya'd been there for quite a while, though I don't know how. That's a well travel route." Only a partial lie, but it would give her hope. Maybe someone had helped her friend. Then again, had barely noticed her.
She nodded as I raised the cup to my lips again. She was barely holding it and had to use both hands. He reached for the cup once she was done.
"If you don't mind the ask. How'd'ya get hurt, las?" He poured more than he spoke. He offered the water again. Again, she refused.
"My name is ____." He almost recoiled at the tone but it was malice in her voice; it was something sad.
Her name was unusual and beautiful. He shook his head, trying to shake the pink from his face. She had him blushing too much. He tried to get a hold of himself.
"Well, ____ I've put snow packs on the worst of your burns, but they seemed to be mostly healed." He tapped the cup to bring her attention back to it. "What happened?"
She pulled her knees to her chest and closed her eyes. He couldn't help but think she looked more determined to forget than remember.
"I remember there was an explosion. My, um, my niece, she was with me." She looked away. "I shielded her from the blast."
She leaned up to take the cup back, and he paused as her hands touched his. He couldn't help look at the burns differently now and realized he was staring. He jerked away.
"I guess the rumors are true then," he hummed. "If you were willing to take that much damage for someone."
"Not just anyone, and it wasn't on purpose. We were in a tight spot. Besides, it's not like I can make gold rain from the sky," she scoffed. He laughed.
"That's what ya think, las." He reached into his bag. "The locals said that cave was all mined out a long time ago but this was just lying around ya."
He pulled out the biggest clump of gold he had picked up. Her eyes went wide as she looked at it and he noticed her hands twitched. She knew where it came from.
"Was there anything else in the cave?"
What more could she have wanted, he wondered, but humored her.
"No, just da gold." Then he remembered it wasn't gold or a rock. He had thought of throwing it out, but handed it to her. "Well, and this. It's useless and worth da same."
It was written across her face that whatever that had been was important. Emotions flashed across her face.
"Woah," he tried to stop her as she attempted to stand. Immediately, she fell back onto the cot. "What are you doing?"
"I have to get back to the cave," she crushed the useless clump in her good hand. He knew that face. There was no stopping her, but he couldn't let her go back up the mountain alone in this condition.
"Ya cannae go out in that. Ya'll freeze. Not to mention your burns. Ya'll be dead in an hour. No, I'll get ya some clothes. We'll head out then."
"If that's an attempt to buy, what was it, my favor? It won't work."
"I don't know what you mean." He frowned. He really didn't. He was just trying to make sure she didn't die. "I am going to get some more snow."
He picked up a pick axe and walked to the bank of a frozen lake. He punctured the surface and took off his gloves. As he picked up pieces of ice and snow, tossed them into a metal bowl. Then he dropped a fishing line in the hole. They were bitting good on this lake and didn't need to wait long for a bite. Though while he was waiting, he wondered how a human that lived in America ended up in the Netherlands in the dead of winter. He stopped and started a fire in front of the tent, tossing the fish in the snow for later. He warmed his hands, still confused. How was no one missing her?
He decided he need to walk back and picked up the bowl he had gathered the ice in. He sat on the stool and wrapped a clump of ice in it, carefully folding the bandages like lady had told him.
"What does sprookjes mean?" she asked with no context. Though the concept was funny.
"Ha! Where did you hear that?"
"The miscreants," she mocked.
"Ahg! You let those charlatans back in here?!" He nearly dropped the bowl, and she shot out. Again he noticed the burns and hesitated. He pulled the bowl back into his lap slowly.
"I'm in no condition to fight off charlatans," she said, laughed. He could've rolled his eyes, but didn't. Instead, just continue making the snow pack.
"Sprookje is Dutch. It means fairytale."
"Ah, and didn't take you to be the type to buy into those." He glanced at her and wonder what she could know of him from a five-minute conversation.
"No, I don't, but there are more than bedtime stories that lead to da legends having weight, and I'm da type not to pass up an opportunity."
"Even a magical one?" He paused and considered for a moment.
Technically, humans were magical begins, not bound to rules like genies. However, though did not consciously mess with the natural order of things that made them more like a lucky charm and those were fake trinkets made up by people trying to sell others hope: profitable but not practical.
"That depends on your definition of magical." He started folding the pack again. "Besides, like ya said, it's just an old wives' tale."
"I think you missed the point of the fable."
"Here ya go." He handed me the ice pack. "It's not a fable, but I'm curious as to what you think the moral is."
"Repaying kindness." I placed the pack on my shoulder and immediately felt a wave of relief. "Speaking of, I should thank you for saving me, so thank you."
"I wasn't goin' to leave ya to freeze to death regardless of myths and legends." He really meant that. He decided he need to cheek on the fire. "Ya should get some rest."
Scrooge tossed over a bucket he had found stoked the fire. He decided to make the short track to the village. He had made good friends with the woman that showed him to pack snow. She traded his fish for some clothes for ____ and a few cans of vegetables that would last him a few meals. He made his way back up the small hill with his haul proud of himself. He started cooking the fish for him and potatoes for ____. He didn't need her vomiting from over eating.
He made the plates and placed hers close to the fire. He dug in to the unseasoned meat. What he would give for his mother's cooking or something better than this, at least. However, it was dead of winter and seasons and spice could only be purchased or traded for the price of three day's worth of fishing and was not worth that. A small noise behind made him look up.
"Did I wake ya?" he asked, and she shuttered and sat be him on a root of an old tree.
"No, I just, uh, where you found me. Were there any markings?"
"I don't think so." He handed me a piece of flat metal that had, what I hoped, was mashed potatoes on it. "What kind of markings?"
"A guy with two faces?"
A man with two faces was a unique request.
"I have seen something similar before. In the center of town."
"What are we doing here? Let's go!" She stood and tried to leave. He grabbed her arm, and she came to a hard stop. He almost thought he did something wrong, but she wasn't mad just waiting for him to speak.
"Might want to change first." He handed her the stack of clothes from the bag.
"Oh right," she said sheepishly, and he held in a chuckle.
She went into the tent to change, and he finished cleaning up camp and putting out the fire. She wasn't going to give him a chance. She helped as much as she could to roll up the tent when she finished. Everything made everything fit in his backpack and slung it on his back. She seemed impressed by it for a second before shooting down towards town. He clanked along behind her.
The town looked like everyone one he had been in. Low structures huddled together, bending from the weight of the snow, lined the main cobblestone street. In the center was the bust of an old bird with a long beard and wrinkles. On the back side of the bust, instead of it being the back of head, was another face of another man. Upon closer inspection Scrooge realized that they were the same man just at different ages and wondered why anyone would want that kind of statue.
"This one points east. It represents starting every day with a fresh outlook," Scrooge repeated what he had been told. "This one points west. He represents the end of a hard day's work only to start over again the next."
The blue jay child ran up to them.
"Oh, are you planning on visiting Jaynus' cave?!" the kid more told them then asked.
"Mind your own business," Scrooge attempted to shoo the kid away. He had no patients for children, especially inquisitive pickpockets.
"Who's Jaynus?" ____ asked. The kid pointed to two faced man.
"Him. He's supposed to have a cave around here. He doesn't get many visitors anymore but all things must have an ending," the kid seemed sad and ____ was buying into his act.
"You wouldn't happen to know where his cave is, would you?" she asked. He huffed in disapproval.
"Of course! Follow the road until the beginnings and ends meet!" The kid pointed and Scrooge traced it towards the mountains.
"That's bandit territory."
"Is it?" The kid seemed confused by that. "Hmm. Good luck!"
"Strange kid," Scrooge mumbled as he ran off and disappeared between the buildings.
"Where the beginnings and ends meet? What does that mean?" ____ said to herself, starting down the road.
"You're not plannin' on goin' up that way, are ya?" He jogged to catch up with her and spun in her path.
"Yes, I am. It feels important. Are you gonna stop me?"
He watched to challenge her or make her see reason, but he could tell she was beyond. He stepped out of her way.
"Don't expect me to help ya," he said, but knew he didn't mean it.
"Okay, I won't."
They made their way down the street in silence, only broke by his pans clanging every fifth step or so. The cobblestones street tuning to dirt, then to flatten-snow-covered grass, then to a worn path on the side of the mountain.
The snow thickened as we left town. The path was mostly clear, but on either side went from powdered sugar to several inches as they entered the mountain range. Trees dotted the road and got farther and farther apart as the road inclined.
____ seemed to be in pain as she walked. Scrooge wanted to distract her from but couldn't find anywhere to begin. Finally, he found something he could ask about.
"____ ya said ya were from America. Ya never told me what ya're doin' here?" I watched him as matched my step, waiting for an answer.
"You're not going to believe me?" she barely whispered.
"I've seen a lot." He didn't expect her to stop and look at him. He straightened and out on a challenging face.
"Have you heard of The Time Machine by H. G. Whippet? I think that's his name." She continued down the path like she had mentioned it had been a particularly hard winter and not name dropped a prolific writer. Not that Scrooge had read any of his work, but his mummy made sure he was aware of the greats. Then it hit him why she had used that specific book to reference.
"You're telling me you're from the past?" He caught up to her and walked beside her.
"Future and sadly my time machine is directionally challenged." He didn't know what that meant. How could you get the future and past mixed up? What was he think?! How could someone time travel?
"Ya're right. I don't believe ya and ya're quite possibly loony." He didn't believe she was crazy, but she couldn't possibly be from the future.
"Says the one that believes in metaphorical stories as facts."
"In every mythos there is a bit of truth," he stated matter-of-factly. Then added as an afterthought, "Besides, it's not the bed stories I believe in."
"By that logic aren't H. G. Whippet's stories their own mythos?" she challenged. She was running laps around him. He needed to study more.
"Yes, but time travel? That's a little far-fetched, las."
"And a mythical being that makes you rich isn't?" He didn't respond. "You said that something else lead to the legend having weight. What might that be?"
He had never mentioned reading Isabella Finch's book to anyone else. He knew they weren't for girls, but they weren't the classical books his mother would have preferred that he read.
"Have you heard of Isabella Finch?" he asked quietly.
"She sounds familiar."
"She should! She's the world's greatest adventure! World renowned. She was the one that first discovered the lore surrounding your kind." He didn't stop to breathe. "She even wasn't supposed to be in the Arctic. The ship she was on had been highjack. Anyway, she had found an ice cavern for cover. That's where she found them. The stories and depictions of your kind. She even claims to have been to your world!"
"What did the stories say?"
"She kept the best in her dairy, but she did write that the humans had this society in our world at one point in the past, but all returned to their own home. She described them as loyal and courageous beings and that they only differed from us in appearances."
"And where does wealth magnet come into this?"
"Oi!" He hated that version of the story. "She said their civilization was wealthy. It's the childish adaptions that say that. One of her famous stories is of a child that was rescued by a human and they were accepted into the poor town until they found that the human society was very wealthy and attack it. Isabella believe that was one of the reason they retreated back to their home plane."
He also left out her theories of them being lucky charms. ____ already seemed not to trust him. He didn't want to add to that distrust.
"I like your lore about my kind. Makes us sound a lot nicer than we are." He watching her as she pick words carefully. "It's glorification of us. Isabella was right when she said were like you, flaws and all."
He was quiet after that. Lost in thought. Did ____ know she had magic or did she think that was normal? He noticed the elongated shadows and started looking for shelter. He found a large rock making a canopy of sorts blocking the wind and there wasn't any snow under it. It would work and he motion ____ to join him. She started the fire using the debris and flint found in the cave, while he gathered sticks and brush that made its way to this safe haven in the dry season.
"Impressive, few people can start a fire from scratch that quickly." He joined her, dropping his pile, and she added some to the small flame.
"H-Red always needs someone to practice with and I can't tell the kid no. He's big into survival stuff." He noticed her hesitation but didn't mention it. He noticed her wincing too.
"Sounds like a smart lad." He pulled out more cloth, wrapped a small patch of snow in some cloth.
"Yeah, he is." She paused the asked, "Where did you learn that?"
"A woman in town." He handed her the snow, and she melt in relief as she put it on her shoulder. "Ya could've told me it was hurting ya, las."
"I didn't even realize it." He didn't believe her but didn't say anything.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a can of carrots and potatoes. He poured them into a pan and unwrapped a chunk of meat, adding it to the pan. He was resigned to more unseasoned meat but ___ groaned and walked over to a spot of green. It seemed strange anything could grow in this weather. She pulled some stuff out of ground and made her way back over.
"Thank you, JWG!" she said, plopping beside him. She showed him what she had found. He knew it was edible but could name it. "You mind?"
"No, go ahead." She tools the Pan and carefully added the plant's tenderness. "You like to cook?"
"Yes, usually breakfast, but I know other dishes and I have Red teach me different spices and edible plants and stuff when we're out adventuring."
He just watched as she continued cooking the food and wondered who this Red kid was. Her child? Her nephew? She said she had a niece.
"Bright kid," Scrooge hummed.
"Gets it from his uncle." She smiled at him, but she turned back to the food when he didn't respond.
He pulled out two plates and held them as she filled them. He took a bite and was reminded of home.
"This is delicious!"
"Wow, thanks." She rolled my eyes.
"I mean it. This is good, like something mummy would make," he said, stuffing another bit.
"Aw, thank you." She blushed for the time.
"So what are ya gonna do when ya meet this fella?" he asked, trying to slow the shoveling of food into his mouth.
"See if he can send me back home." She stabbed a mushroom.
"Back to the future?" The thought of the future was enough to slow his food inhalation.
"Why yes, Marty Mcfly." She poked his arm, laughing to herself.
"So, if I believed ya, which I don't, what's da future like?" She watched the fire and thought. He watched her and the flames lit up different parts of her face and he could make out a small bruise on her cheek he hadn't seen until now.
"The buildings are taller," he chuckled in disbelief, "and everything's shiny but also dirty."
"That's an interesting description," he hummed once she was done. He tossed his plate beside the fire and filled it with snow.
"Anything I need to avoid?" He thought he would test the waters on the subject.
"Oh yeah, lots of things," she smirked, taking a bite.
"You're not going to tell me?" She must have been making up if she wouldn't talk about it. He picked up the plate that was now filled with water and wiped it out with an old rag.
"It would be more dangerous if I did tell you, and what did your story say about humans protecting people? Consider it an honor." She stabbed at him with my fork and he swatted at her.
"I thought that was only for people that won their favor and I couldn't buy that from you," he challenged.
"You haven't bought it," was all she hummed, shrugging, took a bite of her food.
After a few minutes, she repeated what he had done with her plate. He dug through his bag in search of a cup to metal some water in. Once he filled it, he sat it by the fire and waited by drawing in the dirt. He looked up and ____ was staring at him. She cleared her throat, but he heard something.
"Alright, are we," Scrooge stood abruptly and covered her mouth.
He was straining his ears, glancing over his shoulder. ___ got the picture and removed his hand. He couldn't tell how many men, but he tell they were seeking up on them.
"Do you hear that?" She didn't answer. "We need to go. Now. Put out the fire."
He threw the plates and pan into his bag as she kicked dirt on the fire. As the smoke rose, an arrow embedded itself in a rock by her foot. She yelled, and he grabbed her hand. They ran along the ridge of a valley. The snow had stopped falling now, and the rocks were slick up here, but that was safer than the bottom. An arrow whizzed by his head. He felt an arrow sink into his pack. He cursed.
Heaving, ___ pulled him upwards towards the cave entrance he would've run by. He pressed her against the walls in hope no one saw them as they passed. The men ran by, farther down the mountain. Scrooge realized he was still holding her hand.
"Sorry, las," he mumbled, knowing he was blushing again. "This is da cave I found ya in."
"I thought you said it was on the main path?" She stepped out of the cave.
"This is da path merchants take to avoid da bandits." He fought the urge to pull her back into the cave. Then he noticed what she was looking at. It was a patch of grass and flowers sprouting in the snow. "Growth in this weather?"
____ turned towards the sunset. It wasn't a particularly pretty, but it was reflected on the melting snow of the eastern mountains so that it looked like it was lowering on both sides of the valley.
"We're beginnings and ends met," she mumbled, covering her face. She stood on her tiptoes and knocked off the snow of the top of the arch.
"What are ya doing?" Scrooge asked.
A metal plaque appeared as the snow fell. There was the symbol of the man with two faces as to look in both directions.
"That wasn't here last time." He would've remembered a two face man and the first time he had seen that was in town.
"You were focused on something else," a chuckled echo through the cave. "Come, have tea. I rarely get visitors."
Scrooge looked at ____ before entering the cave; it had been too long since he had tea. ___ followed him. There was a really old bird siding in the middle of a perfectly rounded cave. A row of clear quartz crystals behind a man with a long beard and unruly hair. His feathers were now grey, but they were once purple. He was wearing a faded purple robe. The smell of tea filled the air.
"I am Jaynus and, ah, you are the child I pulled from the stream. Glad to see you are doing well." That made Scrooge blink.
"Da nearest river is a mile away."
"Not a river," Jaynus motioned behind him. "I pulled ____ from the stream. Have you not told him, child?"
He offered me a cup of tea.
"He doesn't believe me." I sat in front of the fire and took the cup.
"Why wouldn't you believe do ghràdh?" Jaynus said, offering Scrooge tea.
"No! No, I just met her!" His cheeks burned. He had known this human for less than a day. He wasn't in love with her. He took the tea.
"Oh yes, I forget," Jaynus laughed, which felt like someone was shaking the mountain. "Mortals experience time differently."
"Jaynus." He repeated. He knew that name and would have to thank mummy for making him pay attention in history. "Da Roman god of beginnings and endings; time; passages; and doorways."
"Well educated," ____ said remember that he had said it to her earlier. He glared at her.
"Ya cannea possibly be him though," Scrooge protested. Then he remembered she thought she was from the future, so there was no telling what she believed.
"And why not?" the old bird tilted his head. "Because I'm a myth? You seem to believe in the menselijk myth."
"You need to broaden your horizon, Scrooge," ___ nodded and drank her tea.
"I was going to say we are too far north and several hundred years away from the Roman Empire," Scrooge tried to back petal some and interjected some logic into this crazy conversation.
"Technically, the Netherlands was the end of their borders before their fall. Makes since the god of endings would be here. Also, he just called us mortals insinuating he's not." Scrooge felt dumbfounded and blinked at her. "What? I also bet you were that boy we met earlier."
"What gave me away?" Jaynus smiled.
"You seemed surprised when Scrooge mentioned that this was bandit country. Typically, children know what parts of their home aren't safe."
"You're speaking for experience," Jaynus sounded pleased, but Scrooge wondered what was dangerous about where she lived.
"Well, I live in a home with lots of dangers."
"Why have you come to see me?" Jaynus asked.
"I was wondering since you were able to pull me out of the stream," her eyes darted to the crystal, but she didn't seem to like them, "if you could send me back?"
"No, I can only send people to the beginning and the end of their story." He frowned, then smiled. "However, you can, though it's going to require some focus."
An arrow swirled into the fire, putting it out. As the fire smoked out, the old was gone. ___ and him scrambled to stand. He spun, so they stood back to back. Six men, a mix of mice and pigs, barged into the cave with bows drawn. They circled them.
"Geen plotselinge bewegingen," the leader, a mouse, said. ___ went to speak, but Scrooge knew speaking wouldn't solve this. "English?"
He kicked his backpack at the man's chest. He fell from sudden weight, but it didn't keep him down. Scrooge dodged left and elbowed the mouse in the gut. A pig grabbed his foot, and another mouse approached. He grabbed his perfectly good tea and threw at one on the right's face. Another pig join and he was in circled.
"Leave him alone!"
____ spun and smacked two of them with the bow. They turned towards her.
"My bag!" Scrooge yelled. He punched a pig in the mouth and jumped on the last opponent's back. He tried to buck Scrooge off, but he laced his fingers in his mangy hair.
____ snatched the bag and threw it towards the crystals. One of the other men went towards them but staggered backwards when he saw the crystal and ran out of the cave. The guy Scrooge was on bucked him off.
Someone else went to grab the bag, but Scrooge jumped up enough to and grabbed his ankle, making him fall. A mouse encroached on Scrooge and he rolled away as _____ whacked him in the stomach with the bow. The leader grabbed her arm, pulling her backwards. He snatching the bow from her. Scrooge flipped up, taking the bow with him. He spun and cracked it over the leader's head with the bow, knocking him out. The other three bandits pulled their unconscious comrades out in defeat.
Enthusiastic clapping came from behind the panting pair as fire lit up the room.
"Beautiful!" They turned around and the kid from the village sat at the center of the cave in front of the fire.
"Where have ya been feartie?" Scrooge was above insulting a kid, even if they were a swindler in the making. However, this was an immortal god.
"No need for name calling." The child pouted. "What were we talking about?"
"How da las can get home?" Scrooge huffed over this god's antics.
"That doesn't sound right. No, she wants to help her friends. Right?"
"I know where they are. I don't know how to help them," ___ sounded defeated .
"Yes, you do! You have the sight and it's told you where to go." The kid jumped up and pulled her to the crystals. "Just think of the time and place you want to go and touch the crystals."
Scrooge walked across the floor to join us. Looking at the stones. They didn't look like anything special.
"Da crystals look like quartz. Nothing special about 'em."
"To you!" the kid bounced. "To her, she sees everything! That's why her head hurts! Focus on something and you will see it."
A wind blew through the cave, and Jaynus and the fire disappeared. She turned to stones and Scrooge still couldn't see anything.
"You really see something in them?" He turned towards her and could see them. The image flashing so fast he couldn't make them out. It took his breath away.
"It's like a kaleidoscope of time."
"You know when you're going?" He didn't want her to leave. The images were beautiful. The images in her eyes slowed and seemed to focus on him. Images of him flashed in he leaned closer, trying to make them bigger.
"1940's, I think," she nodded.
"Why then?" he asked, not really paying attention to the words.
"Hard to explain." The images came to a stop and he had steadied himself. He hadn't noticed that he was so close to her.
"I guess this is goodbye." He offered a hand. She glanced at him.
"No, just till next time." She hugged him then turned back to the crystal.
"I see you again?" he asked, remembering the images they had seen.
"Of course! Don't stop believing in fairytales just yet, Loverboy." With that, she was gone and he was once again in the empty cave left to wonder when he would meet her again.