Chapter Text
Finding a way to extract the magic from the Wand of Oblivium is about as big a conundrum as one can find. Still, Varian is a scientist, no matter his motives, and he’s not known for leaving stones unturned, equations unsolved and mysteries unexplored. After the disastrous dinner banquet and Varian’s proposal, he feels like the Separatists of Saporia expect an immediate answer out of him, or at the very least, some rash experiments.
In the past, Varian would have jumped straight into the matter and provided exactly that, nevermind the risks. Now, he takes a few days to write down everything Clementine knows about the wand (a surprising amount, actually, though she still bemoans the loss of a certain ‘spellbook’ - she’s well-informed about the occult and the magical practices developed by Ancient Saporians before the unification - if only she didn’t branch off into so many tangents…) and then he gets into researching things himself. The actual experiments, Varian will perform when he’s got everything else ready.
This is what he knows: some sort of potion is used to both strengthen the wand’s powers, while another to ease its symptoms, though Clementine asserts that she’s not some sort of walking encyclopedia when Varian presses for what ingredients either potion is made up of. She curses Varian out when he keeps asking, but what won’t he do for the sake of science? Anyway, the fact that there’s a physical element to the wand’s magic, not too dissimilar to the potions Varian’s worked with before, chips away at the overwhelming task he’s set out for himself.
From the ingredients Clementine can recall and a few extras they both come up with, Varian makes entire lists of ingredients to try on the wand until he gets the desired reaction, but he doesn’t send out Maisie and Kai or any of the others to get ingredients. He’s got a better idea.
Varian keeps going on patrol to make sure none of the citizens of Corona’s capital are out and about and partaking in mischief - that’s the cover story, at least.
Varian starts looking for things he’ll need on his own terms. It helps that some of the ingredients are as mundane as weeds that grow on the sidewalks of the city, though a few other things, Varian doesn’t have as easy a time finding. Still, it only takes a few such patrols and a fake smile here and a mention of King Frederic’s name there to get Varian what he needs otherwise. His reputation also helps (belatedly, he gets the shopping trip he was tricked out of last time).
Granted, Varian doesn't request much from the merchants that deal in bottles of oil and pouches of ground crystals and boxes of metal filings, and Juniper usually deals with handing out payments from the treasury after the fact, but Varian can see the disgruntled expressions on people’s faces. Sometimes, there’s a tinge of bitterness, other times of fear.
Once he’s checked off all lists of possibly reactive ingredients and a few other variables like reaction time and mode of contact, Varian stumbles into the issue of his tools. Now, his setup works for the basic solutions the separatists have asked of him up until now, and Varian could probably tweak a few things here and there for better efficiency, but he doesn’t want to risk anything once he finally starts experimenting on the wand. Some better equipment would be ideal!
(Or Andrew’s string of correct accusations against Varian continues. He hesitates too much, and why should that be? He didn’t hesitate before when dealing with other magical objects.
…Maybe that’s where the issue lies. That approach did not work out flawlessly for him, not by a long shot.)
This is how Varian finds himself in Xavier’s smithy. Royal support should make dealing with the blacksmith easy enough, or, at least, easier than when he was in hiding and the man was knocked unconscious.
Only, the small room feels as unwelcoming as it can get and Varian looks at the stoked fire and the tools and weapons hanging from the walls and at the blacksmith himself and, well, his current position at the castle no longer comforts him that much anymore. He doesn’t know what impression he left on Xavier when the man came to clean up Varian’s mess and Varian refused to offer his own expertise, nor how it changed after he asked Doc to deliver his instructions later. It’s obvious that, after joining up with the Saporians, if there had been any goodwill in Xavier’s opinion of the criminal that terrorized Corona before being locked up, it’s long gone now.
“I’m here on royal business”, Varian keeps his voice steady and his back straight. The belt of alchemy spheres is on full display, but Xavier seems unimpressed.
“That is one way to say it”, Xavier says. He’s standing near the entrance, denying Varian access to the rest of the forge. “It’s an interesting story.”
“It’s- It’s true!”
He should have asked Juniper for some sort of permit. She’d have King Frederic and Queen Arianna sign it and everything would be simple, but he’s never needed one before. People tend to take him at his word given everything he's done so far. Not Xavier, though.
“Though I am disappointed by the situation you find yourself in, I do not deal with people who harm Corona”, Xavier says.
“I do not find myself in a situation, I choose this because it’s the best course of action. For Corona, too”, Varian argues, “You’ll see.” Eventually, that is.
“As you say, then. But my stance is the same”, Xavier turns and picks up an axe he must have just finished shaping; the metal still glows faintly.
Obviously, he doesn’t want to do business with Varian.
“You do know that you’re basically”, Varian thinks about his next words carefully, “Committing treason. By not letting me fulfill his Majesty’s orders. And that’s, like, pretty bad, huh?”
Xavier pauses, then dunks the axe in a barrel of water. It sizzles and white smoke fills the forge. Varian squints.
“What is it exactly that our King wants? Or that you want for him…”, Xavier says. Now he’s being careful too.
Varian lays out his requests. It’s mostly very specific tools or pieces of equipment. For some reason, Xavier blinks, then frowns, but not like he’s irritated, which Varian has no doubt that he is, but more like he’s confused on top of everything.
“...That is it?”, he asks.
“What else would I want? You can’t do alchemy without proper tools”, Varian replies, mirroring the blacksmith’s expression.
As if that changes something, Xavier’s voice is somewhat lighter when he speaks next:
“Hm. I’d expect you were here to ask questions, considering what’s been underway recently.”
Varian opens his mouth and shuts it.
Something sparks in his brain and he thinks. He’s been working absently these past few days and nights, mindlessly. But now he thinks, thinks and then thinks some more, just to be sure.
What questions could Varian ask Xavier, the man known for his expansive knowledge of tales and myths? He could ask about wands and further the separatists’ quest of finding new and exciting uses of its dwindling magic. He could ask about the Princess’ letters, or some parts of them, about this Dark Kingdom she mentioned or about the Great Tree. Varian’s not gotten far in his own research, and he just isn't an expert in matters of history or deeper research, if he's being honest with himself, and if anyone in this entire kingdom would know something about either subject, it would be-
But the Dark Kingdom isn’t something that’s going to help the separatists, not directly. It would sate Varian’s curiosity and maybe ease his bitterness about Rapunzel being more in the know about something that concerns his father, and still…
Still.
Considering what’s been underway recently. Well, a coup has been underway, as well as something else that Varian doesn’t fully understand.
Rosalie took a few things from the castle before she left. Clementine’s spellbook, possibly to slow them down once the wand started failing. A few more practical things here and there. But she took a letter that belonged to the Princess, the one she'd written while still in Pincosta. Had she mentioned heading towards the Dark Kingdom? Varian tries to remember. He’s 99.97% sure she did…
If Doc had been collaborating with people working against the separatists, and if she stole things she found useful - Varian thinks Andrew would not have eased up on his suspicions against him if any of the separatists had been the ones to see the letters and pluck one out of the bunch just to mess with his head, so it must have been her - Varian can imagine she'd take more than one letter, unless she was looking to answer one question only: where is Princess Rapunzel?
Xavier and other Coronan citizens disobeying the Separatists of Saporia would be considered treason, as Varian so cleverly pointed out in his quest to get the man to comply. If another member of the royal family were to return, or to be returned, say, maybe by a rogue member of Corona’s royal guard, that would change things. She's always been an unexpected risk in the plans for a New Saporia. It can't be a coincidence that Doc got what she needed and both she and the Captain disappeared at the same time.
But this is speculative. It’s something Varian can entertain and maybe even make some assumptions about, but he won't have a definitive conclusion. The way Xavier looks at him after minutes of thinking makes Varian uncomfortable. It’s not a confirmation, but if anything, Varian has an inkling that the blacksmith must have been one of the friends of the crown that Rosalie mentioned.
So what does he expect Varian to ask?
Varian didn’t confront the Captain when he was still in their custody and, now, he doesn’t ask Xavier anything else. Feeling fuzzy and off-kilter, Varian just repeats his request. Xavier says nothing else and lets Varian go with a crate full of metal pieces that Varian can assemble into a better setup.
(Everything could have been so simple. Xavier just had to throw a wrench in Varian’s plans of continuing to ignore what is happening around him.)
Back in the temporary lab, Varian makes use of what he managed to get from Xavier’s forge. He’ll bother Juniper about payments later. He doesn’t feel steady enough to do anymore speaking right now. Day turns to night.
Now that he’s got everything he needs, he can proceed with using the wand in his experiments. Heck, he can probably start tomorrow morning, even, and the separatists might be satisfied that he’s finally making actual progress. But-
Varian has to keep thinking before he does anything in regards to these plots that he doesn't want to care about as much as he does. For now, he decides on a course of action. The wand can wait one more day.
Varian goes back out into the city the next morning, even if it isn’t his turn to go on patrol, but Maisie’s, which makes his sneaking about a much simpler affair. The man isn’t known for his diligence, and he always starts at the outskirts of the island before heading inland, towards the castle. It’s easy to strategize around him - not to mention the secret ways and tunnels all around Corona that Varian can use at his discretion. Technically, Andrew now has claim to the journal he failed to get the first time, but Varian can’t imagine him using the large and unwieldy book of Herz der Sonne just to look for him now that Varian’s won some of his trust back.
So, it’s out of the pan (the stifling rooms of the castle and its cold, stone walls) and into the fire (the city full of people that hate him, but that Varian can fend off, if need arises. He just needs answers) or, rather-
It’s back to Xavier’s forge, and Varian’s got the only book he’s found with some potential answers under his arm. Xavier seems unsurprised to see him again so soon, which irks Varian, but he tries to let it go. He’s got more important business to attend to.
“What do you know about the ‘Dark Kingdom’? O-or about a ‘Great Tree’?”, he doesn’t hesitate to ask. The air quotes, Varian hopes, make him look less desperate.
“I do wonder what would bring you to such an obscure subject”, is Xavier’s non-answer.
Varian glares, but he won’t get anywhere like this. The glare melts and Varian bites his lip before he settles on how much to give away.
“The doctor that helped your guys, she got you that letter to give you some sort of… Hint. The black rocks have been disappearing, so if you wanted to follow after a certain someone… That’d be the only way to go about it. Right?”
“My apologies”, Xavier shakes his head, “I do not know what you are talking about.”
But he doesn’t really sound confused, not like when he realized Varian hadn’t been there to question him yesterday. And now that Varian is doing just that, the guy is playing dumb. Fantastic.
“I’m not-”, Varian groans and reveals the old atlas, shuffling through it until he finds the spot where pages have been taken out, “I just want to know what the heck that place is! Or why I can’t find anything on it… I’m just”, he lowers the book and looks away, “Just curious. Andrew won’t benefit much from knowing where it is anyway…”
So Varian tells himself. Because if he would, then Varian, too, would be a traitor by omission or something, and that wouldn’t be good news for anyone.
“And that is the only reason you want to know? Curiosity?”, Xavier asks.
I want answers out of curiosity and Rosalie helps a minor uprising in Corona and then flees out of boredom. Life doesn’t need to make sense!
Varian doesn’t say any of that out loud, but he flinches when Xavier takes the atlas from him. Then, he schools his expression and the glare is back in place, if a little wonky.
Xavier looks at a shelf full of mismatched books of his own - a surprisingly small collection, but Varian assumes the rest is kept somewhere less flammable. The man retrieves a folded paper, which he tucks into the atlas. Varian blinks when the book is placed back in his arms.
“I won’t be the one to share the entire story of that forgotten kingdom”, the blacksmith says, “Although… I do advise you not to tell your new ‘friends’, if this is merely a personal matter”, Xavier wrinkles his nose and his white beard twitches with the movement, “It won’t help them with what has already been set in motion. Perhaps it’d be best if you take this and go.”
“I’m not going, not yet”, Varian grumbles instead of thanking Xavier and shakes his head.
To avoid being tricked with a forgery, Varian opens the book right away, under Xavier’s surprisingly passive gaze, and he unfolds the paper, scanning over the scant few lines of text. His heart beats fast at the glimpse he catches of the ink illustration underneath, but he forces himself to read before going over that particular can of worms.
The Dark Kingdom - it is a country of secrets and darkness, as the reader may have surmised. Its real name is unknown, but the misnomer has been allowed to spread. Over the centuries, the people of the Dark Kingdom have kept to themselves, keeping trade and expansion at a minimum, though they have also not been overtly aggressive towards distant neighbours, merely protective of their own. Those who go, seldom return, rather choosing to continue life within, and none share much of the inner workings of the kingdom. The surrounding fields are rather fertile, however.
There’s a date underneath the text - it puts this small account around a few decades after the Saporian Wars. The illustration is of a crater rather than a valley, but the spikes are familiar enough to steal Varian’s breath away. Whether the effect is intentional, the ink has spilled in places and it makes the geography of this Dark Kingdom all the more terrifying by association. Much smaller than its surrounding, though probably only because of the scale, is a castle in the middle of the crater. Its towers aren’t rounded like Corona’s and they seem much taller. If he looks closely, Varian can recognize the shape of some of the mountains in the background. One of the distant neighbors of this kingdom will one day be Pincosta, of that much, Varian is certain.
He gulps and looks up at Xavier. His persona, for a moment, is stripped away. There’s no malice or anger in Varian’s confusion.
“That doesn’t really tell me anything”, Varian says quietly. It says nothing about the Great Tree that Rapunzel saw on her way to the Dark Kingdom and Quirin knew something about that tree. Did he know something about this place too? He had a scroll with information on the black rocks, and if Varian isn't wrong, it looks like they plagued this forgotten country as well at some point. The fact that he can't be sure is killing him.
“Not all answers will be satisfactory, just as not all tales end happily”, Xavier says in the ensuing silence, not much louder than Varian had been.
“The spikes around that valley, they look like…”, Varian starts; the thought doesn’t come to an end and he closes the atlas shakily, “But nobody’s supposed to know anything about the rocks.”
Maybe that’s why there’s no information on the black rocks within Corona. Varian wonders when this started.
Xavier neither confirms, nor denies any of what Varian mutters to himself.
As expected, when Varian sneaks back onto castle grounds, his absence hasn’t been noticed. He tries to look as casual as possible when he searches for Clementine. He finds her in the kitchen with Kai, messing around with some of the non-perishable food supplies they have left. Varian thinks they’re trying to bake something. Luckily for him, Clementine carries the Wand of Oblivium wherever she goes.
“You better be careful with it, or else we’ll have words!”, Clementine’s warning echoes in his head. He holds onto the wand tightly on his way back to the temporary lab.
When he starts his tests on the Wand of Oblivium, Varian feels like he’s giving something else up.
The wand's reaction to whatever sample Varian throws at it ranges from a few dim sparks to a miniature explosion of red glitter and smoke, but it’s not, you know, memory-erasing. Just visual flair . Ugh. Magic really is too unpredictable sometimes.
He keeps tabs on his experiments through a notebook of meticulous entries just in case, but none of the logs he reads over at the end of each day seem new or unexpected. It’s always things he remembers.
The repetition of the tests makes running down the list of ingredients both simplistic and mind numbing, but at some point, Varian just knows he’s bound to find something interesting, so he keeps going. When that something makes an appearance, it’s not what Varian would have expected.
Some of the caves underneath the forests of Corona have deposits of poisonous gas - Varian remembers stumbling across one such chamber when he was installing his boilers, but an accidental explosion and a small caving-in of the roof at the entrance of the cavern had solved that problem. It’s not like he needed that specific room for his boilers. The minerals that grow near those deposits, however, are quite pretty. Not quite shiny and clear like gemstones, but the rock has a nice, green hue. They’re usually carved and sold as decorative pieces.
Varian had only gotten a shard from one such deposit because Clementine had mentioned jade was known for its properties amongst practitioners of magic beyond Corona’s borders. She wasn’t sure if it’d have an effect on the Wand of Oblivium itself, but it was worth a try. Only, there are very few people who sell jade around these parts, and some guy did try to swindle Varian. He’s glad he rolled his eyes and went along with it. The rock he’d accepted, thinking, oh, what the heck, might as well see if this does anything - well, it turns out to be exactly what he was looking for.
He looks at it closely for a moment. When the wand touches it, a cluster of glasslike points erupts from it. In the light, if Varian looks at them from just the right angle, they gleam red.
“Oh? Would you look at that…”
Impressive, but Varian doesn’t realize the importance of the discovery until later, because as he stares at the new minerals, all thoughts drain out of his mind and, for a second, Varian is completely at peace.
He thinks about nothing.
He puts the crystals down.
He smiles as he twirls the stick in his hand and laughs when more sparks float down from the twisted tip of it.
After a wistful sigh, he walks backward and falls onto a soft surface. A bed. His bed?
His…
Varian’s! Varian, that’s his name. And in his hand…
Varian startles, jumps up and throws the wand across the room. He looks at the minerals still on his desk, placed squarely between the piles of samples he’s already gone through and those he hasn’t. It seems he’s found something that reacts with the wand and the effects are just what Varian- No, what the Separatists of Saporia want.
He bursts out of the room, and when he can’t find any of the Saporians within the castle’s confines, Varian looks out the window. Then, it’s off to the main courtyard.
Maisie’s still not back, but Andrew and Clementine are the first to notice Varian’s sudden appearance. They exchange looks while Varian skids to a halt, a cloud of dust following in his footsteps.
“I found something”, he gasps, “I think it’s going to work.”
Clementine must be really serious about this. There’s no mockery in her voice when she says:
“Show me.”
Juniper and Kai get a nod from Andrew and return to whatever hushed discussion they were having before his interruption, but their eyes keep drifting towards Varian as he leads the other two away.
“It’s effects are mild, but I think I can strengthen them”, Varian explains while Andrew and Clementine pass the rock sample back and forth, “I’ll probably need to get more samples, though they’re pretty rare, and then I can find-”
“I’m sure we can find whatever you need, friend”, Andrew grins.
They don’t use horses when they head out towards the mainland, because there’s no more horses in the castle’s custody. Varian’s pretty sure some of the barns around the capital still keep the royal steeds in separate lodgings just in case King Frederic changes his mind and demands them back, but crossing the island on foot reminds Varian of his walk with Rosalie.
Only, Andrew doesn’t express his conspiratorial tendencies and doesn't ask weird questions, nevermind that Varian feels on edge anyway, like something’s about to go wrong whenever Andrew opens his mouth to wax poetic about how they’re so close to their goal that he can taste victory. Varian’s pretty sure they already won; this whole endeavour is just a way to lock in whatever it is the separatists are trying to establish.
(It’s victory until the Crown Princess returns from her adventure, but alas. If Andrew doesn’t already have a super-duper secret plan on how to deal with her, Varian wil figure something out…)
In the end, nothing goes wrong, per se, but by Andrew’s side, the usual stares and whispers turn more agitated, angrier, and for some reason, Varian can’t ignore them this time.
Those two walk around like they own the place… Well, I guess they kind of do, but, ohhh, I don’t like the look of the little guy, not at all!
At most, people will mention Andrew; otherwise, they are silenced by a sharp stare and Varian remains the only other easy target. He knew it was a bad idea to not take his more offense-oriented supplies with him, but he needed to make sure he had the tools to extract the wand’s crystals and he can only carry so much. He didn’t have the guts to ask Andrew to help with carrying some of the load either.
Bet he’ll snap again. Just like the first time. Ya can’t trust people like him.
With only his staff, Varian feels rather exposed. Defenseless.
Son, look away. Don’t let him catch you staring.
A man leads his child away when Varian and Andrew pass by. They keep going. Everyone around them just won’t stop talking.
I guess the handsome fellow with the bun can’t be too bad, but the kid…
Did you hear about what he did? Everyone’s seen the damage.
No way he led the attack last summer.
Yes way! Built an army of metal! He must be mad or something, and being a traitor wasn’t enough.
A rotten apple lands at Varian’s feet. Whoever threw it is nowhere to be seen. Warfare via fruit in Corona truly is an art. Varian spots a worm wiggling out of the apple and sidesteps the mess.
Traitor. Dangerous. Fiend. Monster. Villain. Murderer - almost!
Varian crosses the bridge by Andrew’s side.
Once they reach the edge of the forest, Varian stops in his tracks. He hears nothing and sees nothing, not even Andrew’s questioning glances - he just needs a moment.
Andrew turns and stops in front of Varian. He reaches out, and when Varian deflates, Andrew ruffles his hair. For a moment, Varian’s fine. Not as content as when he’d felt the effect of the crystals before, but it’s close. Varian leans into the contact and exhales shakily.
“Told you”, Andrew says, “Coronans are cruel. It’ll take a while before they change and get with the times”, Andrew says.
“...Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
“Yes. But we don’t have time to waste either, and sulking doesn’t fit you. Let’s keep going, yes?”
Varian nods.
With Andrew’s knowledge of Herz der Sonne’s maps of Corona’s underground and Varian’s practical experience, it’s not long before they end up in a clearing in the woods. Across a rushing spring, an old house stands on the verge of collapse. They pass by it, but their target is the narrow opening in the mountainside behind it. The entrance grows narrower before opening up into a larger chamber, and here, in the combined light of Varian’s staff and the gas lamp Andrew brought with him, Varian can see where the stone walls around them change colours. Tendrils of green lead them further into the cave. They must be right next to a pocket of the poisonous gas, but if they’re careful, Varian’s pretty sure they won’t accidentally open up a fissure and get into too much trouble.
“This looks like the right place”, Andrew says.
“I’ll run a test to check in a bit”, Varian offers.
They walk a bit further into the semi-darkness before Varian nods to himself. This should be far enough. He holds out a hand. Both he and Andrew ignore the twitch of Varian’s fingers when the Wand of Oblivium is handed to him. Clementine said she’d only trust Andrew with her precious wand outside the walls of the castle.
A few sparks flicker and float to the ground when Varian tries to ‘cast’ the wand’s magic towards the stone surrounding them on all sides; they extinguish before making contact. After gulping, Varian tries again, and this time, a single spark lands on a patch of green stone flooring.
He jumps back at the familiar sound of glass, of thunder. Varian’s lucky he stumbles into Andrew, because, if he fell down, he’d have impaled himself on one of the rapidly growing clusters of crystal. They should look nothing like the amber or the black rocks, but Varian’s eyes are closed and it takes a tremendous effort before he can open them and see .
Unsurprisingly, these are indeed just normal crystals (with some magical properties).
His heart doesn’t stop racing until he takes out a hammer - brand new and well-crafted, one of Xavier’s - and hits one of the crystal flutes, which breaks easily. Varian tries not to stare at the green-red gleam of the minerals for too long, even if he kind of wants to.
“Good”, he whispers to himself, straightening back up, “Good.”
One more flick of the Wand of Oblivium and the whole cave shakes as all visible surfaces erupt into sharp spikes. Varian doesn’t get to move his arm a third time. He doesn’t need to. The wand feels weightless in his hand now.
“...I think this is it. All of the remaining ‘magic’”, Varian says.
Andrew leans over and plucks the wand out of his grasp. Then, his eyes rove over what they can see of the new material Varian’s just created. There’s more, of course, but the light doesn’t reach that far.
“You need all of this?”, Andrew asks. It’s not an unreasonable question.
“W-well, it’ll take a bit of tinkering before we can use these minerals in a way that’s predictable… Plus, we don't know if Freddy is gonna need more than one redo… But no. This is way more than what we’ll need in the end, is my guess”, Varian forces a laugh. It dies in his throat. “I can keep collecting pieces when I go out on patrol.”
“That’s not good enough. This place isn’t exactly closeby and I have many more things to get done as well…”, Andrew sighs. Varian tenses.
“I’m not asking you to come with. I can do it myself.”
By the look Andrew gives him, he’s not so open to that idea. Varian frowns. He thought Andrew’s trust in him was restored. Was he wrong?
“Take some for now, I have a better idea of how to collect all the raw material and bring it back.”
Varian bites the inside of his cheek and steps away from Andrew. While he works, breaking more of the crystals with the small hammer, he can feel eyes burning the back of his neck. He ignores it, but just like the whispers, it lingers.
Varian’s daily routine barely changes, with one exception.
The guest room just doesn't have enough room (ha) to house both Varian’s equipment, the mineral samples and everything else he comes up with in the meantime, especially after Varian realizes that the crystals can be melted, but that their volume expands more than even he would have expected and just- Storage space. It’s a problem.
A few dozen barrels from the cellar are emptied so Varian can deposit the liquid crystals in them and , after a bit of careful rearranging, the newly freed space is used as Varian’s workspace.
The analysis of the crystals doesn’t take too long. Exposure affects memories, that much is obvious when Varian looks back on his logs. At some point, he takes to tying a piece of cloth around his nose and mouth, and that minimizes the effects, but every so often, Varian will startle like he’s just woken from a dream. There’s a certain peace in the way he loses himself whenever he spends too long breathing in the fumes the liquid creates, but Varian can’t afford to take his time. The separatists may not know it, but Varian suspects the rest of Corona has its own machinations that are going to come into play sooner rather than later.
At some point, he decides to name this new chemical, just to make explaining his progress to the separatists easier.
(Varian tries not to look back these days. He tries not to think too hard about what he’s doing. Going with the flow should be easy now that he's given everything else up.)
The name he comes up with is Quirineon.
(He remembers anyway, because he’s not being exposed to enough of the substance created by the wand to truly forget. Sometimes, Varian wishes he were - that he would - but he knows he deserves the reminder.)
As caught up as he is with working on the Quirineon, Varian doesn’t think much about the steady flow of minerals that he gets almost daily. It's not even necessary, as Varian predicted. He prefers working with smaller samples if he can help it, but he supposes it’s better to have extra material just in case.
True to tradition, Varian goes back to locking himself in a room, desperately trying to reach some sort of breakthrough. The Quirineon is nowhere near as stubborn as the black rocks had been, and still, one day, Varian gets stuck.
Hours pass by and no amount of banging head or fists against the desk he’s brought down in the cellars helps. He raids the castle scientists' study rooms - there’s nothing of importance. They tend to focus more on organic matter in their projects. The amber and the rocks had been some of the few exceptions. Varian even sneaks into Doc’s office, but its barren appearance only worsens his foul mood. In the end, Varian decides to go on another walk. Maybe he’ll find some inspiration.
Inspiration, Varian does not find. A desolate city in the middle of a beautiful Summer day is what greets him instead.
Varian isn’t sure why the absence of people bothers him so much. He walks for a long time before he encounters another living being. A stray cat with a striped tail hisses at him before climbing the side of a house and disappearing amongst the roofs of the capital. Varian winces, then keeps going.
It takes even longer before he encounters another person.
It’s just a couple of kids gathered at the intersection of a few large streets. They look bored, even a little sad.
Varian tries to look friendly while approaching, but one of the kids, a young boy, gasps at the sight of him, and Varian remembers who he is. Who cares if his features twist themselves into a scowl? Let them be scared.
(But… He misses when people would be apprehensive around him because his inventions always exploded, they always went wrong, sans real fear. Varian feels wrong now, which is weird. He hasn't been that stupid, reckless kid in a long time.)
“Hey, you”, Varian says, voice neutral, “Where is everyone?”
The kid shrieks and hides behind a taller girl with very similar features; his sister, perhaps.
“What’s it to you?”, the girl narrows her eyes at Varian.
This time, Varian does have his belt of alchemical spheres with him and, when he raises an eyebrow, the girl seems to notice this and her shoulders tense.
“They’re at the haunted house”, she admits quietly. When Varian takes a step closer, she flinches and raises an arm to shield the boy hiding behind her. One of his tiny hands clings to her skirts.
Varian doesn’t make any other move, but his brows cinch and his mouth twists.
“The… Haunted house?”
His confusion must be apparent. The girl shrugs, a little less on edge, and says:
“Yeah. They work for old Gothel now, Mommy wouldn’t tell me, but we saw it. We figured it out aaall by ourselves.”
Varian’s frown deepens.
“Gothel…?”
This better not be another person he needs to keep track of…
“They go to the house and they bring back rocks”, the boy says, still behind his sister, “Shiny rocks. She must be a scary ghost lady… But we never see ‘er… Maybe she doesn’t like sunlight…”
Varian gets his answer on who’s mining the crystals, at last, as well as the reason why there’s no one out and about - except for the children. More of them hide behind the surrounding buildings, watching Varian confront their friends and, suddenly, Varian feels like such a bully for just cornering these two in his quest for information.
He leaves without another word.
This is what Andrew meant, huh?
Varian tries to keep his emotions in check and, in fact, he’s not sure why he’d feel anything about this situation at all, but as he makes his way back to the castle, he feels… Something.
Things come to a halt when Varian crosses paths with a group of people, actual adults. They carry buckets filled with gleaming crystals in their arms. Some of them, Varian even recognizes. Feldspar, for one - Rosalie’s acquaintance and the only other Saporian Varian knows about besides his allies and the runaway physician herself. Beside him is a tall man wearing leather and fur, with a horned helmet covering his face.
Everyone looks tired, hunched over and as gray as the city around them, despite the warm sunlight and the trees in full bloom.
The world tilts on its axis.
Now, Varian starts running. The people are headed for the main yard, but Varian takes a shortcut. Under his feet, grass and dirt and cobble turns to wooden floors and expensive carpeting. He doesn’t stop running until he catches sight of a familiar, woolen vest and a bearded profile. Andrew is smiling, hands behind his back as he surveys the citizens bringing in crystals for Varian’s experiments from one of the Throne Room’s windows. King Frederic and Queen Arianna are nowhere to be seen.
Varian acts before his mind can catch up to him. There’s glass in his hand, and then it’s gone and Andrew doesn’t get to make a noise before the lower half of his body is engulfed in pink goo. Varian stomps until they’re face to face. Nevermind that Varian still has to look up to meet Andrew’s wide eyes.
“This wasn’t part of the plan”, Varian says in a rough voice. He sounds breathless, but he’ll blame it on having run all the way back here. “I never agreed to this…!”
Before, the sword hadn’t been visible. Andrew draws it now and cuts himself free rather than answering. Varian won’t take the silence. He reaches for his belt, but has to dodge when Andrew’s sword stabs forward.
“What are you doing, friend?”, Andrew asks, smooth and friendly, like this is just another casual discussion between them.
“Why are you making people work in the caves? I told you, I could get the crystals myself-”, Varian gasps, made to step sideways and stumble when Andrew slashes in his direction again.
Another goo bomb knocks the sword from Andrew’s hand and glues it to a nearby wall, but the blast catches one of the hanging banners and the fabric comes down accompanied by a cloud of dust and loose cobwebs.
Andrew glares, and when he approaches, he makes a grab at Varian.
Too slow .
The third bomb catches Andrew’s arm against a standing candle holder and he falls backwards. Varian steps on the metal rod to keep it and Andrew down. He’s not leaving without answers. His hands are shaking.
( Breathe , Varian reminds himself, but he can’t. He can only gasp and wheeze and try to mask the awful feeling of nausea that makes him almost double over.)
Andrew keeps glaring until, with a sigh, he relaxes and lets his head fall back onto the carpeted floor.
“They may as well participate in this revolution we’ve got going”, he finally says, “What’s so wrong with a little labor?”
“They-”, Varian tries, “They don’t-”
“Don’t what?”, Andrew almost smiles, or maybe he’s grimacing.
“You’re forcing them to work! I saw them!”, Varian clenches his fists, “They looked exhausted… It’s not right.”
“It’s not hurting them.”
Varian glares.
“...Much”, Andrew amends.
When Varian steps off of the candle holder, Andrew moves to sit, but he doesn’t stand up fully. He can’t.
“I don’t want this. I never agreed to this”, Varian repeats.
“It seems to me that you’re just unable to handle not having complete control over the situation… But release me from this trap first. We can discuss your… Reaction after”, comes Andrew’s offer.
Some of Varian’s feelings melt away with the statement. He stands there, unable to move for a second as he considers it. Control. Is that really what this is about?
At last, Varian wrenches himself into action. He hesitates once he’s got the shaker of glue solvent in hand, but after one more unblinking look from Andrew, Varian does as he was told.
Andrew shoves him away once he’s free, almost hard enough to make him stumble.
“You better not do that again”, it sounds like a threat, but Varian feels numb to it, “I can understand getting emotional, but really, Varian? You must learn to control yourself.”
“You said we could talk now”, Varian says.
“I did say that, didn’t I?”, Andrew starts walking towards his sword.
He’s listening as he works the blade free, so Varian says:
“We don’t even need that much material. I’m… I’m getting close to finding a way to make the liquid usable on the King and Queen.”
“Hm. And?”
“What do you mean and ?”, Varian crosses his arms.
“Aaand? I still don’t see what’s got you so worked up about the Coronans doing their fair share of the work. We’ve done so much to get to this point. It wouldn’t be right if we, as Saporians, were the only ones taking the necessary steps towards creating our New Saporia.”
“You’re- You’re just saying stuff now! They don’t need to be working in the mines, Andrew, I told you I could get what I need! They’re already listening to you, so why the heck are you doing this?”
“Why not?”, Andrew asks coldly.
“They already hate us… Is this how you plan to rule?”
“They would have hated us anyway, just like how they despise you ”, he points out.
Varian flinches.
“Oh, come now, Varian. You know it’s true. They won’t forget what you’ve done. Maybe one day they’ll understand that this is the best way things could have gone, that we only have their best interest at heart, but until then, we must rule with an iron fist. And you…”, Andrew jabs a finger into Varian’s chest, “Are part of our team. You don’t get to decide things all by yourself just because you don’t know what you want.”
“I don’t want to decide things o-or have control or whatever!”, Varian defends himself, “I just want to… I want to help you. I want things to get better…”, I want my father back and I can’t get him back , “I want everyone to forget, to be honest… Maybe things would be fine then.”
The shame is unbearable. The moment between the confession and him raising his eyes to look at Andrew feels endless. Immediately, Varian wants to take back his words, but there’s a glimmer of interest in Andrew’s face.
“What did you say?”, the man asks. In one smooth movement, he sheathes his sword instead of pointing it at Varian.
“I… I want them to forget…?”, Varian doesn’t like the way Andrew is looking at him, but he doesn’t dare reach for any of the remaining glue bombs on his belt, or any of the more volatile solutions, “About what I’ve done, who I am… I want- I wish I could turn back time.”
“And that, Varian, is the smartest thing you’ve said in a long time”, Andrew’s smile is more terrifying than reassuring. Varian thinks he’ll be shoved or poked again when Andrew reaches out, but he just pats him on the shoulder, like he’s done so many times before.
“I-It is…?”
“Make them forget… Make them all forget… Yes. Why would they oppose us or the creation of New Saporia if they didn’t remember that a Corona ever even existed? Why would they hate you if they didn’t know what you’d done?”
Thing is, Andrew’s right. Saying it out loud, the logic does track. But the conclusion sends a shiver down his spine and Varian feels trapped, as if he’d never left his cell.
Still, in the end, he nods dumbly and tries to put on a brave smile. Andrew’s right. Varian’s just being… He’s just reacting weirdly, but Andrew’s always right.
It's for the best that there’s already such an excess of the green minerals in the cellars. Now that the scale of the plan has changed, Varian has to start working in bulk, which means, whatever tempo he’d been trying to keep up with before, it has to be accelerated. Varian’s efficiency starts to ramp back up again to what it used to be, even if he’s never felt this tired or this numb before, but he supposes it’s a good thing. He can just tell his hands to work and they will. In the meantime, Varian’s mind drifts. He loses time, and sometimes it’s because the fumes penetrate through the bandana covering his face, other times it’s because, in his head, Varian’s back home, happily talking to his Dad and petting Ruddiger and pretending like it’s just the three of them. No rocks, no flower, no Princess, no separatists, no nothing.
Nobody expects Varian to go on patrol or to do anything else anymore, but they are waiting for his work to show some results. The first time he tries to turn the Quirineon into gas, the cellar is left with scorched walls and Varian with a few less eyebrow hairs. The fact that he doesn’t remember this particular experiment without reading his own logs can only mean good things, right?
But Varian finds himself going outside anyway. Sometimes, he doesn’t realize he’s left the castle until he’s staring up at the night sky, fixated on a certain constellation until his eyes water or staring into the sun until he has to blink and realize that, maybe, just maybe, he should avoid going blind until the Quirineon is finished. He doesn’t necessarily need these little outings, but it’s nice to have a moment where it doesn’t feel like anyone is breathing down his neck. He doesn’t go beyond the castle’s walls anymore, though. He keeps an ear out to keep track of what the separatists are doing behind his back, but that’s about as far as it goes.
This new habit seems harmless, uncomplicated, until it isn't.
Varian doesn’t know who’s supposed to be on patrol today (or tonight?), but a glaring issue shows up in the form of a small group of people sneaking into one of the courtyards where a certain Saporian balloon is parked, deflated and unused for months now. Varian was just walking across the battlements (to relive his old adventures or because the air is refreshingly chilly and less suffocating up here?) and he spots them and thinks to himself, huh, the Captain’s men must have had a pretty easy time when they infiltrated as well. The castle is not very well defended at all! There’s too few of us. But who are these guys…?
It’s late at night. Varian can see that these people are carrying torches because of the light. He can also see when they approach the downed balloon and when they grab hold of the brightly colored envelope. Varian squints, and though he can tell they’re toying with the burner, he’s too far away to see anything else. He should go back and alert Andrew.
(He wants to know more.)
As it turns out, his trick of jumping tree-to-wall or wall-to-tree in order to get down is a lot more difficult to accomplish in the dark. Varian ends up with a sore shoulder. There’s a compromisingly loud oof .
Eyes turn to him - he’s only a few paces away from the balloon and from the infiltrators now. The burner lights up suddenly and their faces are revealed. If this was supposed to be a stealth mission, it just failed.
He counts three people: Xavier, the man with the horned helmet Varian saw before and a castle maid, still donning her light blue dress.
It’s an unexpected bunch.
“What have we here?”, Varian asks.
The guy with the horned helmet squares his shoulders and clenches his fists, but Xavier raises a hand and stops him from approaching Varian. Behind the group, the envelope starts rising, taking on its usual, rounded shape, and now Varian is starting to get a little nervous.
“Well?”, he prompts them again.
“We do not need to fight. Let us do what we came here to do and everything will be fine. You could just stay out of it”, Xavier offers.
Varian looks at the balloon. It’s still tied to some pegs which had been hammered into the ground at some point, but it wouldn’t take much to cut it loose and take off. However, why are these guys not inside the basket?
“And what exactly are you here to… Do…?”
A face covered in white paint with black accents around the eyes and lips peeks out from the edge of the basket. There is someone aboard. Varian’s never thought mimes were scary, but in the flickering light, this one looks eerie. Maybe a little familiar… The mime stays silent, obviously, and simply stares.
Varian prepares to turn on his heel and sound the alarm, but Xavier’s next words stop him:
“We know that you are planning something.”
“And we won’t just stand by and do nothing!”, the man in the helmet adds.
But do they really know what Varian is working on? How the plan has changed? Varian himself barely knows what he's doing.
“And what do you need to steal a balloon for?”, Varian asks. Does he have any supplies with him to ward off intruders? Nope. He blinks.
I have to tell Andrew. Why am I still yammering?
“There is someone who’ll be able to stop this”, Xavier says. Varian didn’t actually expect him to answer his question.
“But isn’t someone else already looking for her ?”, Varian scoffs.
It’d be silly if Doc helped the Captain escape, only for it to be useless in the end. It’s what the separatists assumed, but Varian had kind of hoped that… He isn’t so sure what he’d hoped for.
The envelope has finished filling out with hot air and the basket leaves the ground, but the ropes keep it tethered. The man in the helmet brandishes a curved blade. Varian lunges forward before he can cut the balloon loose, but the man seems to expect it. He blocks the measly attack and manages to set the balloon free anyway.
Immediately, it launches itself into the cool, night air. The mime, wordless as ever, waves and looks off towards the horizon. Only the maid in the blue dress waves back.
“Speed is of the essence”, Xavier sighs, his relief obvious, even if he doesn’t realize what is going to happen as soon as Varian figures the Quirineon out.
None of them will care about conspiracies and treason and rebellion. They’ll forget everything they stood for and the separatists will be the only ones left with any say in the matter.
This is what Varian tells himself, watching the balloon become a small dot in the distance, that it doesn’t matter if the Saporians have been played. Even Rapunzel won’t be able to stop this. In fact, if she also forgets…
Varian flees.
He expects that the rebels will also have left before anyone else can try to deal with them, but it won’t matter to Andrew. Andrew will just be mad that Varian didn’t stop them before they launched the balloon. And judging by a few of the castle’s dark windows suddenly lighting up, someone else has managed to sound the alarm before him.
They run into each other in the halls. Clementine is the only separatist not present, so she must be the one keeping an eye on the city right now. Maybe it’s better this way. She already doesn’t like Varian. If anyone were to criticize Varian for letting the Coronans get away with stealing her balloon… He shudders.
“ What did you do? ”, Juniper is the first to speak, and she sounds absolutely furious.
“Nothing”, Varian says blandly, “I didn’t think they’d actually take the balloon. Why does it matter?”
“Why does it-”
“This does not reflect well on you”, Andrew interrupts Juniper, who just huffs and crosses her arms over her chest.
Varian stares at the floor, but this little thought’s been bugging him. The separatists failed to consider Rapunzel for a long time; he’s not even sure they’re thinking about what her return might mean for them right now.
“Explain yourself”, the cordious smile Andrew had been forcing himself to show falls, “You let them take that balloon and now they have aerial advantage over us. Varian, I thought we already went over this, you can’t keep-”
“It doesn’t matter”, Varian reiterates, “They’re not gonna use the balloon to fight us and, even if they did, we could make another one.”
There’s a murmur of agreement, though it’s laced by annoyance,
“What did those traitors tell you?”, Andrew asks.
Varian’s own smile is hollow.
“See, that’s just the thing. They won’t be traitors once the Princess comes back”, if the Captain followed after Rapunzel on foot, he’ll be too slow and, Xavier said it himself, time is of the essence - Varian can see the realization dawn on Andrew’s, followed by immediate animosity, “And what’s the fastest way to go look for her when they know we’re planning something?”
“They’re trying to bring her back, of course…”, Andrew’s teeth grind together.
“And why do you sound so at ease? That’s horrible news!”, Kai cries out.
It’s simple. How haven’t they figured it out already? Do I have to be the one to spell it out?
“The Quirineon is almost finished”, a little embellishment of the truth, perhaps, but Varian knows it won’t be long now - he’s almost figured it out. Even his feud with the Princess can end in peace, if only they both forget everything that happened. It can be that simple. “It doesn’t matter if she comes back, they will all forget, and then you guys will win regardless.”
Andrew considers this with a critical look on his face, but Varian keeps smiling.
“ If you can finish it by the time she returns.”
“I will.”
What other choice does Varian have? If he can’t fix what he’s done, if he’s already lost everything he could lose, then this is the only way to proceed. Once everyone forgets, Varian can let go of who he is, what he's done. Then, finally, everything will be alright.
Quirin is dead.