"Family has nothing to do with blood. You can have relations that are not your family, but friends that are every inch more loving. Family has everything to do with love and bonds."
"One last lesson."
Tyler can hear his mentor speaking to the class before they leave. He waits just outside the room for his foster-brother, knowing that Mr. Strickler will most likely want to talk to them both. Given this evening's scheduled event.
"Who can tell me where Napoleon kept his armies?" there's a confused pause as everyone considers the question. "In his sleevies!"
The boy snorts in amusement, a grin on his lips as he hears the other students groan. It takes a certain, historical sense of humour to understand the finer delicacies of the subject.
"Young Atlas, if I could have a brief word before you leave," Strickler pauses in his words for a moment. "Alone, please. And I'd like to speak with you as well, Tyler."
He smiles lightly, letting a mumbling Tobias pass before walking into the classroom himself. Somehow Jim seems to relax a little upon seeing his familiar face. Strange.
"Mr. Strickler," he greets, finding a seat on one of the desks.
His teacher offers a small smile to the student before turning back to Jim. He has little concern over the elder's reaction, he's already expressed his thoughts through his subtle actions.
"Uh, is everything okay?" the younger of the two asks, kicking his bag under the desk, making Tyler frown a tad.
"Actually, no," Strickler sits on the desk behind him, his tone calm and casual. "Due to recent developments, I don't want things to be strange between us."
The amber-eyed boy chuckles softly to himself, both due to his amusement and his attempt to hide his discomfort. His skin tingles and his hair rises, leaving him uncomfortably aware of his surroundings.
Every sound echoes a hundred times louder; the click of a pen cap reverberating through him like the thunder of a war drum, a scuffle of clothing like a sandstorm. His eyes swim with recognition and distant longing, reflecting the expression of his soul. The tang of something bittersweet taints his silver tongue, a taste that he subconsciously rebukes, flicking his tongue between his teeth.
Another episode. He should have guessed. But should he really? Even in the moment, it keeps him locked from the realisation of his experience.
Nonexistent smells of sage and burning wood fill his nostrils, bringing tears to his eyes with the intensity of the scent. The smooth leather of his jacket starts to feel more like a scruffy rag, ripped from long years of use but providing the comfort of shelter. It's powerful, and he doesn't want it to cease again. It offers such a familiarity that he misses in his current life.
"Your mother has invited me over for dinner," a more recent voice continues as though nothing is happening. "I've graciously accepted."
The young boy makes a soft sound of acknowledgement as he desperately tries to grasp on to the fading tendrils of far-off memories, wanting to cry out as they slip through his fingers. It breaks him to know that it will haunt him in fleeting moments from now-on.
YOU ARE READING
《Dogears》Trollhunters/Merlin
Fanfiction"All that glitters is not gold, but all that is pure most certainly is." The Dark Ages are over. Camelot has been lost. Killahead is scattered. Those that remember recall bright days filled with the laughter of young boys, one with a crown on his he...
