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levy120 · 2 months ago

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What I know now (Rayman OC Story)

Genre, Themes: Journey to the Past Prominent Characters: Poisen (OC), Mr. Dark, R1 characters get mentioned Words: 6,000 Warnings: Anxiety, Implied Child Abuse One Line Summary: Looking for a specific Spellbook from the Candy Chateau, Poisen is allowed access to a painting from back when the place still existed. Funfact: The story was written with just one song on the loop

Happy 20th Anniversary to this little dork!

This story can also be found on dA

What I know now

Poisen doesn't deserve this chance. He's sure of it.

But Rayman has already gone out of his way to ask the Bubble Dreamer of all beings for access to his old gallery, and at this point, it would be sacrilege to refute.

He'd explained to him that the paintings are moments in time, not actual time travel, and that there was no risk that Poisen could change events from the past by visiting them - to ease his mind. And to be fair… if all Poisen wanted to do was check out the lost libraries of the Candy Chateau (to hone his spells, as Ales had suggested) it did seem an easy enough option.

All the signs were pointing in this direction, it would be foolish not to take this quest.

And yet, Poisen feels his stomach sink as he lurks the gall looking for the right painting.

Barely any people stand front and center in the drawings, and yet he feels watched. It's like he's passing by ghosts or a gravesite. Most of these places no longer exist, leveled from Polokus’s grand revision.

More often than not he finds himself distracted, some draw him in, other paintings he rushes by fast, and just one he shields from view - but the mere glimpse of the cottage in the swamp is enough to make him want to turn back. It's not worth it.

Until he sees the familiar shade of pink glinting before him and makes a beeline for it.

The Castle itself looks unassuming in the picture, but that doesn't mean much. Poison cannot tell if it's from before or after the takeover as Mr. Dark had treated it with care - but right now, this is his best bet for finding the lost book Poisen seeks.

---

The hallway is too familiar, it scares him how easily he can navigate the place, how he knows exactly where to go and how not to run into people. For the longest time being invisible has been his safest bet.

The smell of sugar clogs his nose like a bad dream. It makes him nauseous and yearn for something bitter to cleanse his palette later.

In his mind, there are two destinations to investigate: Mr. Dark's study… and the library.

He's not on a time crunch, but he has yet to learn of the schedule within the painting. The guard rotation gives him a vague idea, but he's not daring enough to bump into the study first in case it is occupied. The library is going to be a safe enough start for his journey - and if he's in luck, it will be the only place he'll have to visit.

The sooner he gets out of here, the better.

---

“What are you doing in here?” a voice catches his ear. Young, and familiar in a way that rattles his core.

“Who are you?!” the voice insists, "No one is supposed to be here."

Poisen halts his every move. He doesn't dare turn around to look. There are shelves in the way and by the shuffling noises, it appears he has not yet been seen.

But it's not going to be for long.

"I'm a librarian," he lies, as he rakes his mind for a memory that rings at least a little bit familiar - but he comes up with nothing. "I'm putting the books back in the right order."

"We don't have a… I've never seen you before!" the little one accuses, still out of view. Poisen hears suspicion in the voice, but no hostility. He's trying to determine which timeframe he is stuck in. A lot of his youth was spent like this.

“I'm new,” Poisen decides. Ever cautious he cantrips up a simple disguise.

It's his least favorite spell, it had taken him so long to feel comfortable in his own skin.

The dust settles on his skin to change the hue into something else, unassuming; his form shifts, ever slightly, to deter from his natural shape.

It's advanced magic to disguise as another species - but honing his skills and researching his spells is what he has come here for.

He picks the shape of a Lividstone, out of place enough for him to be new here, but familiar enough for the kid to recognize him as one of Mr. Dark's goons.

Once that is done, Poisen steps into the aisle to reveal himself.

“What's your name?”

The little one furrows his brow and clutches the book in his hands closer to his chest.

It looks old and heavy, is almost the size of the little limbles. A dark purple leather binding contrasts with the youngster’s green.

Maybe this one is what he came looking for.

“I haven't decided yet,” the boy answers reluctantly.

That narrows it down.

Poisen lets his gaze stray across the shelves, then catches another glimpse of the book his younger self is clinging onto.

With a thoughtful hum his hand scours the bindings until he finds a familiar bind. It's in a better condition than he last remembers it in.

“Try this one,” he says as he plucks the book out from its spot, “It might give you some inspiration.”

The little tyke looks at it critically before hesitantly taking it. Books don't bite - he learned soon to find comfort in worn pages.

“Plants?” he questions as he observes the cover. Poisen shrugs his hands.

“Because I'm green?” he spouts and Poisen can't help but laugh. The little one doesn't think it funny so he stifles his laughter behind a fist.

“Maybe?” he edges. It's not been on the forefront of his mind, but he can't deny the coincidence now that it's slapping him in the face like that.

“I don't wanna be called like a stupid plant,” the boy murmurs, and Poisen thinks himself amused.

“You're green!” the boy accuses and it takes Poisen a moment to remember that he's referring to the Lividstone disguise, “I bet you're name isn't spinach either.”

Poisen shakes his head with a chuckled “No.”

In hindsight, the disguise was probably unnecessary. Poisen had been worried about the kid recognizing his own mirror image, but they look nothing alike.

The little one looks both paler than him, and yet more vibrant. There's an excitement about the kid, a farseek for seeing the world he's only ever finds described in books.

That's what being cooped up does to you.

But Poisen, in his years, has seen too much; he wishes he could just retreat to a safe space and spend his time reading again.

But then again, the Candy Chateau is not much of a safe space either.

Never was.

“What have you got there?” he asks as the little one puts the book he'd been harboring aside in favor of flipping through the herbology book.

“Don't put it back,” the kid warns him, “It doesn't belong on a shelf.”

Ah. Then it must be from Mr. Dark's study.

“You're gonna get in trouble for that,” Poisen warns him in a hushed tone. The kid glances back over his shoulder and pulls the book close again.

“Only if he finds out.”

“Fair enough,” Poisen whispers back and hunkers down to be on eye-level with the kid.

“I won't tattle,” he promises, “But you should bring it back soon.”

The kid gives him a look of apprehension and guilt.

“Can I have a look?” Poisen asks, “I won't move it, I'll keep it here where you can see it.”

The kid seems to think hard about it, looks like he's going to deny him for a moment - then he snaps the book about the herbs shut.

“Can you read it to me?” he asks suddenly, “There's words in it I don't understand.”

It jolts something in Poisen, like he remembers the moment. He'd taught himself to read, mostly, he remembers the Lady from Picture City coming by for the basics…

- but reading comprehension and Mr. Dark's spellbooks were a different beast entirely.

“I…” Poisen hesitates. What was he doing? But this could very well be what he came here for.

“Yes. Of course.”

Rayman said he couldn't break things here - yet the situation tugs at his mind like a distant memory. But there is no face attached. The only thing he thinks to remember is the safe haven of the library… and ever present loneliness.

He lets the kid keep hold of the book to not start an argument, hastily scans the pages as the little one turns them over. There's a chance that what he's going to be shown is what he's looking for anyway. He readies the little notebook he brought along to take notes of anything that might seem relevant.

“What's this?” the little one stops on a page that Poisen doesn't recognize. It looks like a recipe for alchemy, handling of magical artifacts. Nothing he ever bothered to learn about.

“What about this page?” Poisen asks. He is not familiar with it. He would be if it were of any relevance.

The kid turns another page that shows illustrations of various artifacts, one of them… oh.

“Dark had it open when I borrowed the book. It needs to be open on this page when I put it back.”

Poisen casts a worried look at the small one. There's a sense of trepidation.

“What does it say? What was he looking at? I wanna help if I can!”

Poisen sighs, flips the page back to the previous one. He starts jotting down notes. It's not what he came here for, but if this is what Mr. Dark had been using, then anything he knows might help to circumvent another harvesting or reverse lingering effects on the Protoon.

“Hey!” the kid tugs the book away from him.

“You said you were gonna read this to me!”

“Kid,” Poisen says and watches the face of his counterpart turn into a disapproving frown.

“You don't want to know.”

The kid shuts the book but Poisen's hand still lingers on the page. He's not letting the kid pull it back and he knows the tyke is too afraid of tearing a page.

“I'll call a guard!” he exclaims, “We don't have a bibrai- lib- you're a stranger!” Poisen hands the book back, trying to shush him. “You were gonna steal this!” “No, I wasn't,” Poisen hushes back. “Then tell me what it says or you're not seeing it!”

What a little-

“Fine,” Poisen grits through his teeth. Maybe he can make something up.

He doesn't like lying to the kid. But he will if he must.

---

It is tedious to keep the good grace. It's ironic, he supposes, that he's always been this way; and as he's actively lying to his younger self he can't help but wonder what that says about himself. Trust has been something rarely extended.

Apparently he's been like that all his life.

How do other people deal with it?

He wants to change for the better - he just doesn't know how to yet.

His notes fill up with information both useful and concerning.

All the while, the little one eagerly peppers him with questions. Some Poisen has an answer for, others he is just as lost on.

“What about this?” his past self asks as he taps an illustration on the page.

“That's the Scepter of Leptys,” Poisen tells him. “That artifact is from a different continent. From a different deity even.”

“What's a deity?” the little one asks, eyes full of wonder.

“Higher beings, that shape the world around us,” Poisen explains simply and allows himself to turn the page while the kid is still awestruck.

“Is Dark a deity?”

The question stops Poisen in his track and he gapes down at the kind.

“Wha- No.” he says, “No, he's not.”

The boy hums and rocks back and forth on the spot as he tries to process the new info.

“He says he wants to shape the world. Can he become a deity?”

Poisen hopes to the gods not.

He stands suddenly, starts pacing. His gut churns at the very idea.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

Poisen doesn't know!

Mr. Dark is powerful. He is ambitious.

Can Mr. Dark become a deity? Is that at all possible?

“Mister!”

“The book doesn't say,” Poisen jolts. His hands have buried in his hair.

He doesn't want to insist on anything that might spark a conversation of the like between little Poi and the mage. That could only end badly.

His younger self seems to accept the non-answer well enough, but Poisen feels devastated regardless.

He realizes then that he has to do something. He can't just… leave and let history repeat itself. This one still holds Mr. Dark in such high regards… it makes him sick to know where it's coming from.

…

Rayman frees Teensies from the paintings all the time, right? Maybe he could…

Cam would love that? Having a son? An actual one?

He knows he shouldn't, but the possibility is tantalizing. But… would it enable Mr. Dark if the kid weren’t here? Distracting him? Stealing his books?

…

Poisen turns around and rips the book from the kid's hands to a protesting “Hey!” but he is bigger, stronger, keeps the kid at bay with one of his feet. His hands cannot reach this far.

Poisen tears out the relevant pages to vehement protests. There's a risk the little one will be on the receiving end of Mr. Dark's wrath… but only if he claims to know about it. And Poisen knows the kid is smarter than that.

“Thief!” he starts wailing, “Help! Stop! Thief.”

…or not.

Poisen rolls his eyes and bends down to pick the kid up and muffle his shouting with an angry hush. With a snap of his finger they find themselves at the top of a bookshelf just as one of Mr. Dark's minions peers into the library.

The kid wails and kicks in the air, but Poisen keeps his snout pressed shut and the rest of him dangling. Below a second guard slips into the library.

When Poisen lets his disguise fall the little one goes still and turns even paler if at all possible.

Poisen watches the guard roam the library, the other one having already left with the tattered book.

“Will you shut up?!” Poisen hisses through his teeth when the goon is far away rummaging in another isle.

He feels the kid nod and after a moment of doubt, drops him at the top of the shelf, next to him.

“You do magic?!? And you… you look like-”

“Yes. And yes.”

“Whoah…”

The kiddo stumbles backwards and Poisen catches him from falling off the shelves.

He pulls the kid back on the shelf, gives him a moment to process. He slowly watches that little brown begin to furrow.

“Who are you?” he asks cautiously and shifts away from Poisen. The older one already prepares for speculations, the fantastical wild tale of that weird truth he found himself in, only enhanced by the vivid imagination of a kid-

“Are you… are you my Dad?”

Poisen’s own heart breaks at the question.

That sounds more plausible than ‘I'm you, from the future,’ doesn't it? It would feel nice to think someone had been looking for him, wouldn't it?

But he takes too long to answer, sees the excited expectation shrivel into disappointment in the little one. When his own vision starts to blur all he can see is the kid turning away from him again, rejected (again), and hurting (still). It cuts himself to the bone to find these hopes dashed, to be the one to do it.

“I'm…” Poisen chokes out but his voice feels raw.

He tries to breath and inches closer.

He doesn't want to keep lying, but he can't exactly tell him the truth either now, can he?

“I'm not your dad, sorry.” he says, and in the hopes it might bring some comfort tags on “But I'm a friend. I know your Mom.”

“Proof it!” the kid demands; the heartbreak makes him lash out, “Why should I believe this is what you REALLY look like?!”

…Fair point.

The little one is keeping his distance; Poisen would be surprised if he wasn't. He wouldn't trust himself either. (Wait…)

With a sigh Poisen slouches next to the kid, lets his feet dangle from the shelf.

“Mr. Dark fished you from the Swamp of Forgetting.”

And just like that, the tension seems to leave the kid to be replaced with curious suspicion. Poisen knows, that he never told anybody until years after, it should be everything that needs to be said - but he keeps going.

“You don't remember anything from before that.” And if the kid not having decided on a name yet was anything to go by, “You only moved here recently. You secretly love to break off the mints from the wall in your room-.”

“Stop, stop, stop, stop-” the kid is shushing him in a weird turn of events. He looks spooked - but excited.

“How do you- No way!”

Poisen lets him process all the new information and chances another glance across the library. He’d made sure to talk quietly, but the kiddo is not exactly following in his stride. To his relief it seems that at some point the other minion left as well.

"Whoa, so you're like... me? From the future?” Now he's caught on. “And you came back to prevent, like, a big bad from happening or something?"

“No,” Poisen replies courtly. But he’s very much starting to want to.

'I came to read books' feels kind of boring in the given light, but he also hadn't really expected to run into his past self either.

“Tell me your name!” the kid demands.

“Not before you decided on one,” Poisen teases him.

“You’re very chatty,” he comments and ruffles the little one's hair.

“And you’re not!” the kid protests as if insulted as he slinks away from Poisen’s hand, “What’s up with that?!”

It’s like taking the wind out of Poisen’s sails. History has taught him well that some things are better kept to yourself… but he doesn’t want to put that burden on the little one, when he can barely remember a time during which he was so… outgoing.

“Hey,” he tries to divert instead, “I know Mr. Dark says you can't learn magic… but I'd teach you. I want to!” he offers before he can think better of it - and the kid's eyes become huge.

“Really?” he asks.

“If that’ll help prove him wrong?”

And the little one looks positively excited.

He doesn't want the little one to stick around and face Mr. Dark’s wrath. He doesn't want to keep lying to the kid - or, essentially, himself.

He wants for things to be better. He wants to tell him that nothing bad is gonna happen to him. He wants to promise. But he can't rightfully know if he can keep it.

Rayman said that while in the painting Poisen could neither change nor break anything… and he wants to put that claim to the test.

The longer he stays, the more certain of it he is.

He just cannot walk away from here, knowing things are as they are… and… not at least try.

“Yes,” he says, “Let's get you out of here first.”

Back to the gateway. Away from Mr. Dark's impending return.

---

The coated sugar crunches beneath his feet like snow. He's leaving traces that he hopes this world won't remember. It only occurs to him now what a bad idea it would be to lead Mr. Dark straight to his world, into the arms of Polokus…

So the next chance he gets he breaks off a candy cane and starts swiping their footsteps to the confusion of the little kid.

“What are you doing?” he asks. The little one sounds nervous. Poisen doesn't answer immediately, so he kicks him.

“Hey!”

“I asked what you're doing!”

Poisen remains silent. He looks back at the trail of… seemingly undisturbed glaze, but is sure if someone found the path, they'd still be able to track them.

“I don't want Mr. Dark to follow us,” he says, purposely simple. The kid doesn't seem to have the same level of dread just yet, but by the way that he's not digging deeper, Poisen is certain he understands why.

“But I wanna find my way back when we’re done.”

Poisen straightens his back and feels the way his grip tightens on the improvised tool.

“Don't worry,” Poisen tries to calm him, “It should be right around the corner.”

He passes the kid to walk around an oversized Candy Corn and-

“There it is!”

Poisen breathes a sigh of relief once he sees the gate that's supposed to lead them back to the gallery.

…But the kiddo by his side is looking increasingly nervous.

“I'm going back,” he says.

“Why?” Poisen asks.

“Dark will be looking for me.”

The little one is so upset, Poisen almost feels guilty. Almost.

"Not in the way you think," he says and hunkers down to be on eye-level with the kid. The little tyke is full on glaring at him now, but the tears don't make it as threatening as it could be.

"He's only looking for you to punish you for the state his book is in."

"But YOU'RE the one who broke it!" the kiddo immediately protests and Poisen shakes his head.

"He. won't. care."

Poisen reaches out a hand to comfort the kid, but he flinches away before Poisen can touch him.

"You're lying!"

"Kid," Poisen insists, "You'll thank me in 20 years."

Instead of heeding his words, the boy backs off.

He's gotten him so far…

“But the gate… it's right here.”

“There's nothing there!” the kid insists angrily and Poisen feels his stomach drop.

“But-” He reaches his hand through, the one clutching the torn out pages- and it goes through just find - but where he passes the treshold the pages he'd torn out earlier flutter to the ground no longer held by anything.

Poisen’s eyes blow wide and he retrieves his hand from the void to gather his evidence.

“No,” he breathes, “No. No. Nononono…”

He sticks his head through the gate to find that absolutely nothing wound up on the other side.

When he pulls back into the painting, he comes face to face with his younger self looking more anxious than ever.

The kid backs off further and Poisen realizes with horror the shit he's just gotten the little one into. He needs to fix this.

He needs to!

The kid is stepping in a wide arch around him to pick up the pages - but Poisen retrieves his hand from the gate and snatches them away before the boy can reach them.

“Don't go back,” he warns, crinkling the paper in his grasp.

The kid shakes his head.

“If I bring these back, it will be fine.”

But his voice is thin and… he is crying now - he must already know that this won't be the case.

…

Poisen can't let that happen.

The objection is loud and the wailing imminent when Poisen summons another orb of light and the pages go up in flames.

“Don't go back,” Poisen presses, “You can't.”

“No!” the kid cries out as he's trying to catch the lit up pages. He's not listening to what Poisen is saying, too distraught in seeing the one plan he had go up in flames.

“We need to get you out of here,” Poisen insists, “I know a place-”

But when he reaches for the kid the boy backs off with a vehement “Go away!”

Tears are staining the little one's cheeks and Poisen's guilt pinches ten fold.

He drops in front of the kid.

“I'm sorry,” he bawls, too, “This is for your best.”

“Shut up!” the kid screeches and hauls a handful of glaze at Poisen.

Yeah… he deserved that…

“You leave me no choice,” he says as he reaches for the kid. Who knew that his younger self could be so difficult.

But when Poisen tries to port them to a safe place inside this timeline, he finds his spell disrupted midway and them freefalling from midair, hurling towards a field of spiky crocant.

Both of them scream, Poisen flings the kid at a cream-puff before crashing into the hard candy himself. When he emerges from the brittle, he sees the boy bound back for the castle in hurried steps.

“Wait! Don't!” he calls after him and ports out of the splintered candy. So that works just fine. It stops him momentarily, as Poisen brushes the leftover crumbles from him (they're so sticky).

As the kid runs off, Poisen channels his magic to port after him. He materializes in front of the kid to cut off his path and make him steer in another direction, but Poisen lunges after him and is quicker.

The kid is screaming and shouting in his hold (again) and kicks Poisen in the chest, knocking the wind from him. He doubles over coughing and heaving and the kid slips free of his grasp.

That's his chance to make a break for it, but…

He'd feel kinda bad about that.

As Poisen remains keeled over, the sound of coughing mixed with something else that sounds like… sobbing, the younger one cautiously inches closer.

“Are you alright?” he apologizes, “I… didn’t kick you that hard.”

Poisen coughs again before sitting upright, winded. His hand clutches the spot that the kid kicked earlier.

He looks at the kid, then avoids his gaze as he’s slowly catching his breath.

“Lesson Number One,” he wheezes, “Your magic supply is finite.”

The kid looks surprised at that… and - now that Poisen is talking - sits down, at a safe distance.

“Thanks for not running,” he huffs.

“Thanks for finally teaching,” the kid retorts dryly, and Poisen can’t help but give a winded chuckle.

“Sorry about that. I’m just…” What little levity there was fades as his expression turns grim.

“You can't go back…” Poisen pleads. “You can't. I won't allow it.” The kid tilts his head at him.

“Why are you like that?” the kid inquires, almost offended, and Poisen leans back so he can breathe easier. He feels his chest strain from using so much magic, all of his muscles feel weak, but the uncontrolled quivering might be from something else still.

“I know you think you owe Mr. Dark because he saved your life,” Poisen says.

The kid is quiet for a moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“But…?” he inquires.

But Poisen can't put it into words. He doesn't know where to start. He doesn't know how to tell in a way the little one would believe.

He feels so lost.

Before he knows it, he's pulled the kid into a hug.

Apologies whirl in his mind but don't make it to his tongue. The moment he tries to put this warning into words… he bawls.

The kid is spooked… but he no longer tries to run.

He tries again, his voice thin, like he's letting the kid in on a secret, his hands cling protectively.

“When Mr. Dark finds the book,” the one they left atop the shelves in the library - it will be a while, but it will happen, “I want you to be as far away from him as possible.”

The little one looks nervous now.

“If I can't escort you through the gate, then I'd at least would have wanted you with a confidant.”

When it comes to hypothetical options, Poisen truly isn't spoilt for choice by now.

He hopes Cam will be happy to be the first he considered and not hurt to be the first to be dismissed, but Poisen doesn't know where his mother is staying in this timeline. Is the aheart of the Ancients still save? Are they looking for him in the village at the blue mountains where he was supposed to go? The Swamps where he got lost? Is the Risen Peak a thing yet? He doesn't know.

And neither option is in any way close enough for them to just get there on foot, or with what little remains of his magic, even without the barrier innplace.

He would even have considered Betilla - although that might be weird with her already mentoring Rayman.

“I wanted to take you Space Mama. You know her, right?”

Picture City simply feels like the best choice. It's closer, and Space Mama would at least be a familiar face. As it is, he has spooked the kid enough already.

“But I don't wanna go to Picture City,” the kid protests. Poisen almost finds it in himself to laugh out of sheer desperation. The irony that despite trying he wasn't able to take him there anyway.

After the little one had already not been able to see the gate, Poisen shouldn't be surprised that he wouldn't be able to escort the kid away from the Chateau when the painting itself doesn't extend so far…

His range in this time-capsule is limited, the barrier that cut off his spell won't let Poisen pass beyond a certain range, and he doesn't trust the kid enough to send him off without an escort. With his track record he'd wander off a cliff or drown in a pool of ink…

…

So he needs to be sure the kid sticks with him, at least for the time being.

Cautiously, Poisen releases his hold from the kid, waits if he tries to run again and breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn't.

“I can't teach you magic when I'm completely drained,” he says and shifts away, assuming his favorite meditation pose.

“Your magic is not fairy given,” he says, tapping his own chest “It comes from in here.”

The little one is clearly confused by the sudden change in topic, but as long as it's what he'd been pestering him about relentlessly Poisen knows he wouldn't dare interrupt or walk off on his own.

“Before we try any spell, you need to find the connection with your core and tap into that.”

“How do I do that?”

To the best of his abilities, Poisen tries to put into words what took him months to get an understanding for. He doesn't expect it to click for the little one right away; he's expecting failure.

But he's also expecting stubborn tenacity.

Poisen tries to lead by example. With eyes closed, and his breathing deep, he tries to clear his mind and shake the lingering panic. If his skin quivers regardless he acknowledges the crisp air of the surrounding mountainside. The smell of sugar lies heavy in the air. He's never been a fan… but it holds something familiar, something - despite everything - comforting.

He hears the shuffling of feet and chances a glance at the source. The kid has bound next to his side and is trying to mimic his posture.

“How do you float?”

Poisen finds it in himself to smile after everything.

“That's just what happens when you do it right. You need to focus.”

“I'm gonna focus so hard!” the kid exclaims and proceeds with a face like pushing a boulder.

Yeah, that's not gonna work.

“If it's any consolation, I didn't figure it out until at least-”

The Protoon. And his guard duty on Betilla. And Mr. Dark's defeat at Rayman's hands…

Yeah… Best not to bring that up.

He chances a cautious glance at the kid. He's trying so hard.

“I mean… you're further ahead than I was your age. You'll figure it out,” Poisen chuckles, and resumes his own meditation.

The dwindling questions are a good sign he thinks, of the little one slowly getting the hang of it.

---

When he next wants to check in on the kid, he is gone. Poisen flings from refreshed into alarm in seconds.

“Kid?” he calls to no answer, “Kid?!”

The glaze surrounding him looks entirely undisturbed, there are no signs or footprints or any other indication of them having been here.

“Kid!” he calls out again. His feet land on the glaze with a soft crunch.

But of course if he's not here - there's only one place he could have gone back to!

Cautiously Poisen tracks back to the Chateau. It seems… peaceful enough. He has a hunch.

His feet lead Poisen back to the library. Books that he remembers pulling from the shelves are still in pristine order where he first found them.

When a familiar “What are you doing in here?” catches his ears - more curious than it is alarmed, Poisen wants to cry with relief.

“Mr. Dark is looking for a book,” he replies before the kid can come close enough to see him, “I thought it might be here.”

“He is?!?” the young voice replies with a sense of fear.

“Uuuh… which book? I'll help!” the voice piques up, and Poisen can't help but smile to himself.

“Some kind of spellbook. He insists that he's last seen it in his study, but that it's no longer there.”

When he checks, Poisen finds that his notes from earlier are still there. They’re rough, but better than nothing. Surely Betilla or Ales might be able to scour out the right book from those notes alone.

The sound of little feet puttering away is music to his ears and even if he can’t get the young one out of this place entirely… it helps to know that things will be alright for him… for now.

And maybe this time around, Poisen can find the book he’s actually looking for.

But first… he just needs to be sure of one more thing.

When Poisen skulks the halls again, he's not trailing after the kid, but following another familiar route… until he finds what he's looking for and climbs out of the adjacent window.

He ports the small distance up and lingers at the steep of an upper window, where he can easily cling to the roof and get a clear view from above right into Mr. Dark's study.

The sorcerer himself is there, busying himself with the crystal ball in the corner of the room. It's easy to spot its glow in the dimly lit room.

To his relief he doesn't yet seem agitated about the missing book.

He seems to have beaten the little one though as the stand where Mr. Dark likes to keep his books is still suspiciously empty.

When the door to the study creeks open, the room is flooded with light from the hallway. The kid treads with careful steps, but when he spots Mr. Dark in the corner, he forgoes putting the book back to its spot and instead trots over to the sorcerer.

Poisen feels his breath seize and his muscles tense as his fingers almost break the candid rim of the windowsill.

From up here he can't understand what the little one is says. But he tugs at Mr. Dark's coat, interrupts what he's doing and has the sorcerer turn around.

Beneath the rim of his large hat Poisen can't see his expression, but his younger self is holding out the book with a nervous smile. Mr. Dark raises his head and Poisen readies himself to intervene -

When Mr. Dark takes the book and ruffles the kid's hair.

It's like time stops and Poisen forgets how to breathe. Below, Mr. Dark carries the book back to its spot and dismisses the kid who nods his head with a proud smile as he shimmies off…

And Poisen feels a pang of jealousy that topples his world upside down.

Relief muddles into betrayal and doubt.

He knows better. He knows he does. He knows that this is wrong. That it's not gonna last. That… that….

He pushes away from the window and leans against the roof. His fingers brush over the gingerbread tiles in an attempt to ground himself, but the effort feels mute.

He should not have come here. He should have stayed in the library and committed to his research.

He feels foolish… but he knows better. He knows that he knows better. It's just…

It's too early yet.

When he returns to the library there's no joy when he finds the familiar volume he's looking for. His hand feels cold and shaky when he transcribes the pages of his spells and possible enhancements. When he slides the book back into it's place on the shelf it's with a grounding sigh.

His gaze drops to his scraggled notes. The ones he'd just made, and the rough transcripts from Mr. Dark’s book, and he finds new resolve.

Betilla will want to see this.

With this, he's sure they can heal the Protoon.

He knows where his place in the world is. He's learned it the hard way, found it painstakingly.

He knows it's not here. As much as the voices in his head would like to differ.

#Rayman #Poisen #Rayman OC #Oneshot #Journey to the past #Birthday Boy #OC 20th Anniversary

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