Chapter Text
Lycus’ life had far more concerns than he really had the energy to deal with lately.
First off… well. His parents were gone. Away on “Commonwealth business” they had said.
Years ago. No one knew where to.
Piper and Lycus had even gone so far as to jump through all the hoops necessary to send messages to the Downside, with no response.
Piper had been taking out her frustrations on the Commonwealth by continuing to make games, and more concerningly conducting pranks against the members of the Commonwealth with a young Avoreal. The bird was a bad influence on her… one of these days they’d fly too close to the sun, he just knew it.
Secondly, he and that dryad, Lenta, had been collaborating on some research a while back that had… well, there was a reason he was covered in fur and on all fours right now, and it certainly wasn’t because he was playing with a kith. Lenta had said it was lycanthropy, a curse they’d heard about but hadn’t had a chance to study in detail. Oh well, they could probably figure out a cure with enough work right?
Except thirdly, the commonwealth went and outlawed reading. As in, processing or even owning written words. They’d confiscated all of his notes, setting him back by years. They’d even taken Doctor Stuffy’s Diploma… Since then he’d had to make do with pictograms, which goes incredibly poorly when you have 15 different colorless and odorless liquids on hand, 3 of which could kill you, 4 of which had various curative properties, one of which was water, and the rest of which were various magical reagents that, unless handled extraordinarily carefully, could theoretically destroy what was left of the world in 3 or 4 different ways. Not that he would even consider messing with them without Lenta’s advice.
Which led to the fourth problem.
He hadn’t heard from Lenta in weeks.
Normally if they were indisposed, they’d send their kith, Valon, with a message of apology, but he hadn’t seen her in a while either. Of course, there was a decent chance they were both just… busy. It’s not like the dryad nor their kith were shy about working, but in the light of the Commonwealth’s recent policies… well... worrying about this now wouldn’t do him any good.
And, granted it’s not like it was all doom and gloom lately, he supposed.
Piper had found about his condition fairly early on, and even though he had wanted to keep it a secret, he knew she could be trusted. She’d been helping him through some of the hairier nights, and for that he was very grateful. However, due to a second piece of good news, he had insisted he be alone for the past few nights of his transformation.
You see, no one in the commonwealth had the sense to check for invisible ink.
The idea had come from Robin, of all places. In addition to concerning possibilities and the plants he’d ordered, she’d brought some food, and while most of it was… not to his taste (which consisted mostly of cereal these days, much to many of his friend’s horror and distress), she had brought a cup of lemonade. Which he of course immediately accidentally spilled on a sheet of sketchy diagram-filled notes.
He panicked for a bit, turning on a Bunsen burner to try to dry them off before they became completely unsalvageable, and watched as the lemon juice reacted to the heat and turned brown. He had spent a few moments cursing himself for his forgetfulness of this literally elementary reaction before the idea had struck him.
The notes may have been lost, but the plan was definitely worth their sacrifice.
Not that lemons would do, of course. The problem with lemon juice was that it didn’t exactly stop being brown, which was kind of the whole point, not to mention anyone was bound to be suspicious of a scientist ordering lemons en masse. And so, after a week of experiments, briefly interrupted by his current… condition, he was ready to resume his primary research.
He had tested the mix earlier. It had worked perfectly.
He had combined several of the chemicals that he knew for a fact would not poison him, burn him, or turn him into a tree, and used them to create a tool that would allow him to continue his work unimpeded by this mad government and their nonsense laws, completely undetected. Assuming the secret would stay secret, of course.
The thought of the progress he’d make as soon as his thumbs reappeared made him giddy. But until then…
He snuggled up closer to Doctor Stuffy as he drifted off to sleep.
--
Several weeks later, his plan had been going wonderfully so far.
Unfortunately, he was only slightly closer to uncovering the cure for lycanthropy, but he had managed to accomplish several more minor tasks in the meantime! Frankly hiding lycanthropy as well as treason made getting much of anything done an ordeal, so he was prepared to call that a tentative win.
In more troubling news, Lenta had still not contacted him.
He tried to push the thought from his mind. He had work to do.
He shined a special light on a page seemingly covered in messy sketches, revealing the slightly-messier handwriting hidden from view. He’d been experimenting a bit more with magical reagents over the past few weeks (he would begrudgingly admit that his wolf snout did make identifying them a bit easier), and- oh hang on.
He squinted at his notes.
Could it be that sim-
“LYCUS!”
Robin’s call from the door to his lab made him jump. Hurriedly sliding the small flashlight up his sleeve, he turned towards the door.
“H-hi Robin,” he stammered.
She stood in the dingy lab with a tray of blue flowers, looking around with moderate distaste. When she noticed his approach, she donned a mask of cheerfulness. “You wanted these flowers? For some reason?”
“Yes… aconitum…” Also known as wolfsbane. Frankly he kind of doubted they would do much but he cleared off part of a lab table for them anyway. “Right h-here would be fine.”
“What do you want these things for anyway?” she asked, as she set them down. “These are incredibly poisonous, you know…”
“W-well…” He stuttered, trying and failing to come up with a plausible use for wolfsbane that didn’t involve werewolves. “I-It’s kind of complex, you might not understand… h-have you heard any… interesting rumors lately?” he tried to change the subject.
Robin’s face lit up. “Oh I’m glad you asked!~ Rumor has it there’s an underground printing press somewhere on campus… but no one knows who may be running it or what contraband they might be producing.”
Lycus began examining the flowers as she went on. He did feel a bit averse to them, admittedly, but he wasn’t sure if that was due to his wolfishness or their toxicity. Or maybe their strong scent.
Maybe too strong.
…okay yeah something in his mind was screaming that these flowers were a bad idea and he shouldn’t be standing too close to them.
He quickly stepped back from the flowers, stumbling a bit as Robin finished her report. “…and a new Stagehand’s been spotted with the Narrator.”
Lycus froze, nearly falling over. He gripped a table, hardly noticing his fingernails sharpening and cutting small divots into its surface, or the small object that had dropped out of his sleeve. “Wh… what kind?”
Noticing Lycus’ stern expression (but thankfully not his growing claws), Robin’s mind began to race… okay, okay, this bit of information was actually important… some people had mentioned a pluff… others a lumence… the occasional blepper… but the most common one was probably… “…a white Licorne. Wonder who the poor sap who got exiled this time was…?”
Lycus tensed up.
That clearly wasn’t the response he was looking for…
“…th-thank you for the f-flowers… p-please g-go…” he muttered, avoiding her gaze as he shoveled some shards into a pouch (completely missing the additional object that fell in from his sleeve), pressed it into her palm, and practically pushed her out the door.
With Robin out of the room, Lycus began to pace and panic.
Okay, okay, so the Narrator had exiled someone and taken their kith. That’s… well, not fine, but normal enough, and even though they matched Valon’s description, it might not have been her, right? Heck who knows if it was even a kith at all? This is Robin, of course. It could have just been…
…ok he couldn’t think of anything else it could be. But it was still coming from Robin…
He pushed the thoughts out of his mind and tried to calm down. He had wolfsbane now. Even if Lenta was… gone… he could still probably figure something out with his ink and the flashlight that he had in his sle-
...he didn’t have the flashlight in his sleeve.
He hardly had time for the panic to register before there was a knock at his door.
Hiding his increasingly-lupine limb behind his back, he turned towards the door and opened it to find Robin there, sheepishly holding his light.
“Um, Sorry…” she began. “…for the news, I mean. I take it you know who…”
“Lenta.” he said. She winced, recognizing the name. She… probably could have delivered that a bit better…
“…anyway,” Robin changed the subject. “This was in that bag? The one with the shards?” She held up his light. “It looked pretty important… what’s it for anyway?” She flicked it on and waved it around, the beam doing little to alleviate the dingy atmosphere.
“Th-thank y-Ah!” Lycus grabbed the light, a little too roughly, cursing himself for almost giving away this incredibly illegal device to one of the worst possible people. “I-it’s a special light for… stronger and healthier plants? For the flowers. I mean.”
Robin had been expecting something a bit less relevant to her field of interest (and also her fields of plants). “Oh! Really? How’s it work?” She was kind of glad she didn’t have to feign interest for this one. Talking about his latest project usually cheered Lycus up!
Lycus, on the other hand, was continuing to grasp at straws. “It… energizes the… chloroplasts and allows the plant’s… natural defenses to…” He continued his phony explanation as he shone the light on the tray of plants.
“Hm…” Robin considered this. “Good in theory! But why a penlight? Do you really plan on just standing there for hours so that they get enough light?”
Lycus chuckled uneasily. “o-oh that’s right-! I can’t believe I… Oh well… back to the drawing board….” He made an attempt to shrug while still hiding his wolfish arm behind him.
But Robin didn’t respond. She was looking at something else.
In particular, a sheet of paper propped up near the plants. One covered in cramped, messy, and faintly glowing handwriting.
“Oh, Lycus…” she said, slowly breaking into a grin. “I didn’t think you were the type to-”
“Not so loud!” he cut her off with a stage whisper and a frantic expression.
She winked in reply, miming zipping her lips shut and flashing him a thumbs up. “But seriously…” she said, much quieter this time. “Invisible ink? Genius! Good luck with your rebellion~” She left the lab with a skip in her step, humming to nothing in particular.
The instant she left, Lycus slumped down in a state of dull shock.
How could he have been so stupid? Inviting someone so… nonsecretive into his lab when he was working with something so sensitive? Accidentally revealing this to her?
Ok, ok…. He tried to calm himself down a little bit. Maybe this wasn’t the end of everything he’d worked so hard to protect? Surely Robin hasn’t spilled every bit of information she’s been entrusted with… Hopefully she’d be able to keep this one incredibly important thing secret, right?
--
His lab didn’t make it through the week.
He was awoken a few days later by the sound of enforcers from the Commonwealth knocking the door off its hinges. What remained of his work was seized and, presumably, incinerated as contraband information. The rest of his lab was simply cleaned out and shut down, the school receiving a notice that he was to be away on business for an indefinite period of time.
As for him… he was swiftly exiled.
He emerged from the Tatters alongside Iris. The Stagehand looked at him with an odd, emotionless expression on her face for what felt like entirely too long before swiftly turning away and bounding back into the Tatters, leaving him alone in the blighted wasteland that was the Downside.
Or, more accurately in a river that was a part of said blighted wasteland.
He yelped, the shock of the frigid water shaking him out of a sort of dull numbness he’d been feeling for the past few hours. It took him a bit to scramble his way to land. He laid there by the river for a while, trying to collect himself and failing pretty miserably.
Normally, when he was stressed, he’d curl up with Dr Stuffy, or get in contact with Piper, or perhaps eat something if he remembered.
But now… he was alone.
He had nothing.
And it seemed to be getting dark.
He glanced at the sky and was greeted by a myriad landscape of stars, popping into visibility one by one as time passed, creating a colorful spectrum across they darkness of the sky. However, seven stars in particular seemed to catch his attention… each a glowing beacon, seeming to radiate comfort and hope, shining brighter than anything else in the sky.
However… there was one very large object that shined darker than anything else.
Maybe shining was the wrong word for it. However, the object seemed to just sort of… emit darkness in a way that shouldn’t have been possible. It took up the middle of the sky, casting a shadow over the entire landscape, somehow managing to do so in a somewhat... inviting way...
Before he knew it Lycus had changed completely. There didn’t seem to be a proper moon in this… place… but apparently that was good enough for his lycanthropy.
Great. On top of everything else he still had to deal with nonsense.
At the moment Lycus wanted nothing more than to dig a small hole and curl up in it until… well, he wasn’t sure when he’d come out, exactly. In fact he was starting to dig when he heard a shrill howl pierce through the night.
His ears stood on end as he heard another, coming from the opposite direction.
And then they fell flat against his skull as he heard many, many more in reply from worryingly close.
His eyes widened as his instincts took over, sending him running off into the night.