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squidbatts · 4 years

Text

i'm not just a boy (i'm a-)

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda, co-leader of the Bad Kids, captain of the Aguefort Owlbears, Master of the Hangman, conqueror of Kalvaxis.

or: of fear, duskmoss, and the forest of the nightmare king

((happy fh day, i wrote this while i was crying watching the episode so it Is canon divergent, but i related to fabian’s fears a bit too much to Not write about it))

{ao3}

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda, co-leader of the Bad Kids, captain of the Aguefort Owlbears, master of the Hangman, conqueror of Kalvaxis.

You take a deep breath as Gorgug lights up the duskmoss, burying your want to chase after Riz because you think that this is the point of the forest, that this is what’s supposed to happen; it scares you, one of your crew running into the forest alone, even more than it scared you when Ragh disappeared. You think that worrying about Riz or Gorgug or Fig or Adaine or Kristen more than your other friends, the hirelings that you dragged on this quest with you, might make you a bad person. You can’t particularly find it in yourself to care.

You feel the smoke settle in your lungs, the fullness of it filling your chest. You hold it in, closing your eyes almost reflexively as it burns in your throat. Something inside you, base and afraid, remembers dragon fire on prom night, the feel of Adaine shaking against your back as you try to outrun Him on the Hangman. You shake the thoughts out of your head and breathe out.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda, co-leader of the Bad Kids, captain of the Aguefort Owlbears, Master of the Hangman.

You take another breath in, looking at your friends around you. Their presence is comforting, even though you can nearly feel the air between you all thrumming with nerves.

This summer, when Fig and Gorgug were on tour and Riz was doing detective stuff with the Elmville police and Adaine was working through things with Jawbone, you spent a lot of time alone, and then, a lot of time with the Hangman. You rode around on him to get information about Aelwen and to set up a crew, obviously, but even besides that, there was a lot of free time that led to you jumping on him and going. Going to half-pipes and highways, to bank around sharp corners and through narrow alleyways, to feel the wind on your face as you let your motorcycle run wild; going fast enough that your loneliness and your stress and your worries about your papa couldn’t catch you.

It was a summer of only you, escaping with the Hangman every second that you weren’t training with your mama. Just a fighter and his demonic mount.

You think, as you breathe out, that it suited you, honestly. You still would rather not be alone.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda, co-leader of the Bad Kids, captain of the Augefort Owlbears.

Ragh calls you “his QB” sometimes.

You know that’s what he called Dayne, you heard him yell it in the halls often enough to recognize it. You also know that it should unsettle you, that you should ask Ragh to stop or remind him that Dayne fucking Blayde was a douchebag and that you deserve your own moniker, unsullied by having belonged to him as well. You hope that you’re not becoming like Dayne, apathetic and cruel in turns, making people around you hide themselves in order to avoid your ire. It’s a terrifying idea, to become a nightmare creature with blank scarecrow eyes and a cold, shriveled heart.

Still, there’s something about Ragh being so excited that makes you keep all these worries deep inside.

You take a deep breath, feeling your ribs move as your lungs expand. You know that you’ll let Ragh keep calling you his.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda, co-leader of the Bad Kids.

You’re not the boss of the Bad Kids. You're all "co-leaders," really, and you make decisions together, for the best of the group. It works best this way, you think. The Bad Kids, your friends, aren’t afraid of you like your papa’s crew was afraid of him, not even a bit. You inhale and remember toddling around the original Hangman, a tiny half-elf with a too-big sword and a sharp need to be great enough for his papa’s legend. The crew smiled after you, but none of them ever got too close for fear of your papa’s mercurial moods.

It was a weird childhood, being the only kid on a ship of pirates, surrounded only by potential playmates that were decades older than you and the unforgiving sea.

In retrospect, you decide that you don’t like to think about it, actually. The past is best left in the past, isn't it?

Fig looks at all of you with dilated pupils and says that she’s going to cast a spell, a third-level Fear to help you all reach the center of the forest just a bit faster. Your hand shakes as you take off your father’s eyepatch and purposefully fail your saving throw. You exhale. You trust the rest of the Bad Kids implicitly.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster, grandson of Telemien Lomenelda.

William Seacaster didn’t have any parents.

Or, well, that’s not true, you know that’s not true, because surely he had someone once upon a time, but your father never talked about his own parents.

In the distance, what feels like miles away, Gorgug says something about being afraid and coming for Kristen. You chant along, barely registering the words that you’re saying as you think about how your mama didn’t ever talk about her family either, really, besides one day when she looked at you, eyes strangely clear even as she took a deep gulp of her wine, and said “My father would love to meet you.”

She never introduced you to him back then, landlocked as the forests of the Lomenelda are; the Hangman went many places in your youth, but the Seacaster family wandered only the seas of Spyre, your ship going where the tide and the whispers of riches took you. Once, you thought you saw your mama twisting and twirling on the deck, spinning herself into a tornado under the pale light of the moon. Her hands opened and closed, clutching for something beyond the reach of even a woman as well connected as the beloved wife of the feared pirate Bill Seacaster. You feel like you were never meant to see her like that, but you still can’t keep the image out of your head in quiet, dark moments.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, son of Bill and Hallariel Seacaster.

Your parents love you.

You’re certain of that, you know that they’ve said it, that you’re their darling boy, that your mama is trying and your papa is dead and your mom is-

Wait. That’s not right.

Your mama is trying, your papa is dead, and Cathilda has always been there for you. Cathilda will always be there for you. You have a father and a mother and a Maid, that’s more than enough, as long as you have them. None of them are in this forest, confusing and dark, with you, though.

You take a deep breath in, the woodsy air filling your body. You look down at yourself, how you fade in and out of visibility. You watch as Adaine disappears between one blink and the next, as Fig tells Gorgug, “We need to find Adaine and Riz and Kristen” and doesn’t mention you at all.

When your hand goes through Gorgug’s shoulder, it’s almost a relief.

Your name is Fabian Aramais Seacaster.

You- You have a family. You have friends. You’re pretty sure that both of these statements are true.

You go to school, probably, unless… unless you live in this forest, in this grim place. You can’t imagine that there’s a school in here and, if you live here, then you must not go to school. Something, in the back of your mind, says that you don’t belong here, but you can’t remember anything before this, so you’re fairly certain that this is your world: you and the grass and the trees, you and the forest, you and nothing.

You take a seat on the cold ground as the world spins around you. You don’t think that the grass even bends against your weight.

Your name is…

Uh.

You know this. This is an easy one. Your name is...

It’s-

Fuck.

You’re-

You're... scared. It comes on you, suddenly, between one breath and the next, and you are so, so scared, more afraid than you ever have been. You don’t really remember being afraid, before, but you know this fear that holds tight to something in your chest is worse than anything you’ve ever felt before, and you hate it. You don’t know why and you don’t know how to stop it. You only know that it’s awful, terrible, and that you must feel it.

You are in a forest. The light is dim and the edges of the path are blurred by overgrown plants. You do not know your own name. You think you must have a name; everyone does, you know that at least.

You are sure you have a name.

You’re also sure, as you look at the blurred and pale outline of your own form, it probably doesn’t matter much anymore, to anyone.

#fantasy high #fantasy high live #fabian seacaster #fabian aramais seacaster #fantasy high spoilers #one shot

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