Chapter Text
It was all Angus’ fault. He’d gotten reckless. Too impatient to solve a mystery to properly prepare for when things inevitably went sideways. That was his first mistake.
He thought that he had been hot on the trail of a relic. Not a Grand Relic, according to the Director, but a powerful artifact all the same. One that could freely manipulate people's minds if the reports that Angus had been reading were correct. With a body count that was growing. People were disappearing in and around the Dunfol forest. The forest had a bad reputation for being a dark place that strange and powerful creatures gathered. So usually only experienced adventurers passed through it. People that knew how to fight and defend themselves. But recently those people were vanishing, and the forest was declared unsafe for travel. Only one of the missing people had returned from the forest, and whoever had made the report had been skimpy on the details.
Something that Angus had, at the time, considered a good thing. The biggest difference between being a Seeker and being a detective was the leg work. As a Seeker Angus spent pretty much all of his time on the moon reading reports and books. All the clues had been gathered, just needing to be pieced together for a location. And while he loved to read leg work was Angus’ favourite part of being a detective. Chasing clues and criminals, interviewing witnesses, finding things no one else had thought to look for. So the poorly made report was the perfect excuse to get off base for the first time in months, and finally do some real detective work. Avi had taken a little extra convincing, but there wasn't a rule that Angus had to stay on base. Or that he even needed an escort.
A small town just outside the forest was Angus’ first stop. According to a little old lady, that gave Angus one of her freshly baked cookies, the adventurer he wanted to see was staying with the local healer. It quickly became apparent as to why. The human man had severe memory problems. Angus’ gentle questions were often met with either a blank or questioning look. He didn't even know his own name. The young detective had to introduce himself several times in the ten minutes he spent with the man. A short period of lucidity had raised more questions than answers. The man had clutched at Angus’ shoulders and screamed about finding something in an abandoned maze in the forest. Not long after the mans outburst was Angus escorted out.
Angus had assumed the thing the man had found in the woods was a relic. This was his second mistake. His third and last mistake was deciding he would find the enterance to this mysterious maze before heading back to the moon.
Waking up in a room you don't remember falling asleep in is one of the most jarring feelings. For a little boy named Angus Macdonald it was, unfortunately, a familiar sensation.
Being the world's greatest detective meant that you made a lot of enemies. People that had no qualms about knocking out and kidnapping little boys that got too close to bringing them to justice. It was simply an occupational hazard of the job. So when Angus woke up in a room that was definitely not his room at his grandfather's house his first assumption was that he had been kidnapped yet again.
Angus didn't even need to open his eyes to know that he was somewhere else. Scratchy sheets, slightly lumpy mattress, the faint smell of cleaning supplies. None of these things were familiar. The boy tried to remember what he had been doing before he had woken here but came up empty. He would have tried to think on it more but needed to assess how safe he was. Escape first, mystery later.
Without moving or opening his eyes Angus catalogued himself. Staying as still as possible, if someone was watching him then he needed them to believe he was still unconscious. He couldn't hear anyone in the room, hearing no breathing but his own, but that didn't cross off the possibility of being observed through magic. It was a little strange to wake in a bed instead of a floor. He even had a blanket, that was pulled up to his chin and tucked securely around him. Most kidnappers weren't so considerate. Then again he also usually woke up more restrained when this happened. So either his captors were underestimating him severely or they had plans for him. The first was good, the latter not so much. There was a single metal cuff around one of his arms. Possibly a shackle? It wouldn't be the first time.
On a more positive note Angus’ mind wasn't foggy, so the idea that he had been drugged was crossed off. His head didn't ache like a blow to the head had knocked him out. At the moment a sleep spell was the most likely reason for his unconsciousness. Meaning he would need to be cautious of spell casters amongst his kidnappers. Cautiously, Angus cracked open an eye, and in his surprise his facade of pretending sleep quickly fell apart.
Angus sat up, throwing off the soft blanket that had been tucked over him. His eyes frantically taking in the surprisingly lived in room. The space was small but cozy. A small desk stuffed with papers and a bookshelf full of books decorated the otherwise tidy room. There was even a small chest full of his clothes and various nick nacks that he didn't recognise. A chill ran down Angus’ spine. Because those papers were full of his handwriting, and the books included some of his favourites, like Caleb Cleveland. The whole room in fact, looked like it as meant for Angus to live in. What he had assumed to be a shackle was in fact a silver bracer wrapped snugly around his wrist. There was a strange symbol on it, but no clasp, so it had to be assumed that it had been placed on with magic. Looking too long at the symbol however made his head ache. Did he have a concussion after all?
Angus was so confused, and starting to feel a little scared. He couldn't wrap his head around all the questions swarming around his mind. How did he get here? Who brought him here? Where was here? Why was he here? Why were his things here? How long were they planning on keeping him here to justify bringing his things as well? The more he tried to think the fuzzier his head felt.
Taking a deep breath, Angus calmed himself, and focused. He is the world's greatest detective and good detectives don't panic, they solve the mystery. So, after swallowing his bubbling fear, Angus carefully got off the bed and tip toed toward the door. First step to escape was to see if the door was locked. However the sudden approach of muffled voices outside the door made him pause.
Angus debated if he should jump back into the bed and pretend unconsciousness, but his inner detective urged him to eavesdrop. What better way to learn something about his captors than to listen to their conversation? And if he was caught then at least he would have the opportunity to interrogate his kidnappers. So, quiet as a mouse, Angus slid over and pressed an ear to the crack of the door.
“-ome on. Pretty please?” The pleading voice of a loud man easily drifted into Angus’ ear. “The Director didn't say we couldn't poke our heads in and check on him.”
Angus tensed, muscles bunching in readiness to move should the voice come toward the door. To his relief the man was stopped by another.
“No, but she did say that we’re not allowed to wake the kid up.” A gruff voice replied. “The medics looked him over and couldn't find anything wrong, the brat just needs his rest. He’ll be up and annoying us all too soon. Besides, you honestly think you can be quiet enough to sneak in and check on him? Without waking him up?” The loud one muttered a denial but made no move toward the door where Angus was anxiously listening.
“Quit looking so miserable,” the gruff voice scolded. “The little shit shouldn’t have been there to begin with, and at least he isn’t dead.”
“He could have died Merle. We could have killed him.”
There was a short silence after the loud mans statement before the gruff voice, Merle, spoke quietly. “It wouldn't be the first time we’ve gotten people killed, Magnus.”
Angus held his breath until the two voices faded down the hall, his heart beating fast in his chest. Several observations and conclusions whirled through his mind. Even such a short conversation allowed him to glean several facts. This was not a regular kidnapping. The use of the word ‘Director’ suggested this wasn’t your average group of thugs, more of an organization. Which suggested a much higher level of sophisticated criminal activity. Multiple people working together and making it that much harder to escape.
However what worried Angus the most was how someone could sound so casual about killing people. About almost killing him, though he still couldn't remember how he had gotten here. The loud man, Magnus, had at least sounded a little guilty but the other, Merle, had been callous at best. Angus eyes the room he had been given. It was obvious from the effort that had been made to keep him comfortable that they needed something from him. Meaning not only had he been kidnapped, but he was being kept as a prisoner.
Angus grit his teeth and pressed his back firmly against the door, casting his eyes frantically around the room. The feeling of being trapped was slowly pressing down in his shoulders. There had to be a way out. He just needed to escape and somehow send a signal to the nearest military to arrest these people. The little boy detective clenched his fists and went to the desk. If he was going to escape from a whole organization of people then he needed tools. Paper clips could be makeshift lock picks, and paperweights made into bludgeons. His little crossbow was gone, likely confiscated, but even a broken ruler stick could make a good improvised shive in a pinch.
There were several things that stood out to Angus about the contents of the desk. First of all there were a lot of incomplete research notes in Angus’ handwriting that he had no memory of writing. They were even coded in his personal cypher that he used for case notes. Something like this would be hard to fake. Which left the question; how long had Angus been here? And why was he missing such a large chunk of memories? The most obvious answer would be that someone had used a very powerful memory spell on him. Such a thing would be difficult, even for a powerful wizard, it took a lot of magic and concentration to keep it going. Perhaps something had knocked him out of the spell? And why was he getting a headache and hearing faint static when he tried to read these notes?
There were a few other things that made little to no sense that stood out on the desk. A hand carved wooden duck. A recipe for macarons even though Angus couldn't cook. A few pieces of his Grandfathers favourite silverware. Angus was surprised when he found a wand of all things tucked amongst the papers and office supplies.
It wasn't a very fancy wand. Just a beginners rod with a tiny star at the tip that shimmered slightly in the light. However its presence confused the young detective. Sure, Angus didn't know any magic, so the wand was nearly useless to him. It was even possible that his kidnappers knew that about him. The question was; why would they leave it on the desk for him to find? Was it a taunt? Giving him a possible tool to use against them, but be completely unable to use it? It sounded like something a sadistic kidnapper would do.
Frowning and feeling more than a little spiteful toward his captors Angus tucked the wand into his pocket. He’d find a way to use the wand to torment these people, even if it was just jabbing the pointy end of it into someone’s eye. With his improvised tools in hand Angus turned back to the room.
Angus decided leaving through the door wasn't an option. Even if it wasn't locked if he wanted to remain uncaught for any length of time it was better to be unpredictable. There were no windows in the room, but there was a vent half hidden behind the chest of clothes. Quickly Angus scurried over to it, delighted to find that it was already half loose. It only took the work of a few seconds to work the grate off and wiggle inside. It wasn't very often that Angus was so grateful for being such a little boy. For the moment however it was serving him well. The boy detective didn't know where he was going but figured anywhere was better than the room he had woken up in.
The vent was dark, and dusty. Angus had to stifle several sneezes as he went, peeping through grates he found trying to get a sense for the layout. Most of the rooms he passed were empty bedrooms. Though one room that smells heavily of pringles and potions.
It took some time, but by following the smell of fresh air Angus eventually found his way to a grate that led outside. To the little boys relief the vent was at ground level and hidden behind a bush. So only after a little effort to get the bars off he was free.
Huffing with exertion, Angus took a moment to catch his breath while still hidden behind the bush. It was also a good time to get a better guess as to where he was. So by cautiously peeking through the brush Angus looked around. Several things immediately struck him as odd. It was like nowhere Angus had ever visited before. The entire place was set up like some sort of campus. Most of the buildings were domed and very pretty. There were restaurants, shops, and even a Fantasy Costco in the distance. An entire small towns worth of people were wandering around, either going about their business or chatting with friends. Each and every one of them had a silver bracer on their person. Just like the one stuck on Angus’ arm.
Angus didn't want to use the word ‘cult’, but it was starting to look like he had been kidnapped by one.
No doubt the bracer could be used to track, or even control, him when it was discovered that Angus was missing. Meaning he had limited time to get out. The only question was; how was he going to sneak around without people seeing him?
The answer came to Angus as he frowned at the strange glass dome that came between the town and the sky (spelled for concealment from above perhaps? Why did the sky seem closer? Were they on a mountain?). A place this big usually had tunnels, either sewer or even maintenance tunnels. It would be easy to get lost, and Angus would likely lose a lot of time puzzling out what tunnel went where. However they would likely stretch across the entire town, be empty of people and confuse his captors as to his real location.
However the only thing that even resembles the entrance to such a tunnel, that Angus can see, is a small square hatch in the ground. A good fifty feet away, smack dab in the middle of a small park. There's no way he can reach it without someone seeing him.
Angus bites his lip and weighs the pros and cons, but he knows that he has to risk it. He can't just hide behind this bush until someone notices a certain small captive missing. If he’s quick, and if he acts like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be, hopefully he will be overlooked. After all, part of being the world’s greatest detective is a surprising amount of acting. So, once Angus had made sure his hair was free of leaves and brushed the dust from his clothes he moved.
The key to being overlooked, Angus had discovered, was to simply act like you belonged. A confident walk and an expression like he has somewhere to be had gotten Angus into a surprising amount of places where children usually weren’t allowed. It seemed to be working here as well. People were glancing at him as he moved, but their eyes skipped over him as if he was just another part of the crowd. That didn't mean however that Angus wasn't struggling not to itch at the drops of sweat trickling down the back of his neck.
The hard part was appearing like it was normal for Angus to be opening a maintenance hatch. Luckily the iron latch wasn't locked, just heavy and very rusted. The little detectives heart was practically leaping into his throat with every second that passed. Every moment he remained in the open raised his chances of being noticed and caught. His sweaty palms kept slipping as he slowly cracked the tiny door. He was so focused on his work that he didn't notice when a large figure came up behind him.
“Hey, what are you-” a large hand clamped down on Angus’ shoulder, and several things happened at once.
Faster than most eyes can follow Angus reflexively reached for his pockets. Hands seeking something to use to defend himself with and wrapping around the first thing they touched. A tiny golden star was quite suddenly stabbed into the hand of the orcish woman that had startled Angus. With a cry made more of surprise than pain the woman recoiled. Unintentionally giving Angus just enough time to heave the rusted hatch open and wiggle through the crack. The little detective stumbled and nearly fell down the narrow ladder leading down but didn't slow. The orcish woman called after him but Angus didn't listen. He only had time to be grateful that the shaft would be too narrow for the orcish woman to follow, as he reached the bottom.
The tunnel was dusty, and dim with only the occasional light. The cramped space was obviously only made for the smaller races to make repairs. Angus simply cursed his lack of night vision and kept running. Picking which direction to go at random. It wouldn't be long before the alarm went out and someone was sent down here to get him. He was also down one wand since he had dropped the tool after using it on the Orc woman. The dust trail he disturbed would make him easy to track. Meaning he needed to either get creative or get out of these tunnels before he was cornered.
Angus started to get creative. He backtracked, circled around, made false trails in the dust, even walked backwards a time or two just to confused or slow down anyone that might try to track him down here. Until finally he found another escape hatch. This one wasn't rusted shut, in fact it looked quite shiny and new. Angus climbed the ladder and pressed an ear to the hatch to see if it was safe to exit. He only had time to hear a snatch of obnoxious but familiar music before the sound of sneezing and cursing further back in the tunnel made his decision for him.
As quietly as he could Angus crawled out from the hatch and into what looked like the back room of a store. Vast amounts of boxes and goods waited on shelves. The chime of music from the front of the store told Angus that he was in the Fantasy Costco he had glimpsed earlier. Though why a Fantasy Costco had a very necromantic looking tank, of glowing green fluid, with something growing in it, Angus did not want to know. That one could stay a mystery.
Angus only stayed in the back room long enough to use a cord to tie the hatch shut before he left. The nice (and creepy) thing about Fantasy Costco’s is that their shelves are nearly endless. Making them easy to hide in. Angus was easily able to dodge customers by hiding amongst the merchandise. The only downside was, that with the maintenance hatch tied shut behind him, the only way out was the front door.
So as cautiously as he could Angus snuck his way toward the front. At one point hiding inside of a hot tub to avoid being seen by some passing customers. It wasn't hard to find the entrance, since the annoyingly loud welcome music played every time someone entered. However there were a lot more people closer to the front of the store. The only thing going Angus’ way was a dwarf that seemed to be arguing vemenantly with the owner of the store. They were distracted, but they were unlikely to overlook Angus across the large space between the shelves and the door.
Angus internally cursed, wishing desperately for something, anything, that could help him got out of this. He snapped out of his thoughts when his hand collided with a figurine and only just caught it before it fell. The little detective stared at the item before a slow smile settled on his face. He was in a Fantasy Costco. Angus was surrounded by hundreds of magic items that could help him.
It didn't take long to find items that could help him. Weapons unfortunatly were kept behind the sales counter, so those were not an option. Angus still found several potentially useful items, which were promptly shoved into his pockets but found two that would be most useful at the moment. The first was an item called Virtuoso’s Mask. The item itself was pretty dinky, a domino mask like something out of a cartoon, but it's effect would cast Disguise Self on the person wearing it. Which made it perfect for Angus’ needs. The second item was the perfect distraction.
So once he had donned the mask, disguising himself as a curly haired halfling, Angus made his way back toward the front. It wasn't easy to simply act like just another customer. Pausing at the occasional display and pretending to check prices. Every atom of Angus itched to fidget and look over his shoulder. An urge that only got stronger as he left the cover of the shelves and started to make his way toward the front door and his escape. The dwarf that he had spotted earlier was still arguing with the store owner and slowly starting to shout.
“I’m telling you for the last time ya copper pinching skinflint. He has to be here! Carey followed him through the damn vents and said the trail led here.” Angus’ breath caught in his throat as he overheard the shouting dwarf. “Even Avi says the tracker in the bracer says he’s here! The brat is probably hiding in your back room so you’re going to let me in to look for him.”
Angus kept walking, nearly at the doors now, as the shopkeeper replied. “I’M SORRY BUT ONLY EMPLOYEES ARE ALLOWED IN THE BACK. UNLESS YOU’D LIKE TO FILL OUT THIS RESUME AND GET HIRED I CAN'T ALLOW YOU BACK THERE. OR I SUPPOSE WE COULD ALWAYS MAKE A- HEY!”
The little detective couldn't help but flinch at the shopkeepers shout and look back over his shoulder. Both the dwarf and the strange looking owner were looking at him now. Though the glare the odd man-cat-thing was giving him told Angus that his disguise had definitely been seen through.
“YOU HAVEN'T PAID FOR THOSE ITEMS! THIEF! SHOPLIFTER!”
The ten year old turned on his heel to bolt for the door but instead bumped head first into someone's torso. Without thinking, in a knee jerk reaction, Angus apologized. “Sorry sir.”
The tall man with fuzzy sideburns he had run into looked down at him in shock. Angus moved to dash past to freedom but found his arm held in a gentle but unyielding grip. The shopkeeper was still wailing about vandals but under all the noise the little detective still heard the muttered question the scarred man asked, “Angus?”
Now knowing that the mask hadn't worked for some reason Angus already had his hand in his pocket and wrapped around his distraction plan. A simple jar of bees. With a flick of the wrist the boy smashed the jar, glass shattering on impact with the cuirass of the large man holding onto Angus’ arm. In surprise the man dropped the detectives arm like a hot stone as the bees swarmed for his face. Wasting no time Angus bolted dashing out the doors with the sound of screams, shouts, and insects, following behind him.
For a long time Angus just ran. Barely paying attention to where he was going, only enough to run in the opposite direction from any voices he heard. Weaving down hallways and around corners, leaping down staircases, and ducking into doorways. When he finally stopped running Angus was even more lost than he had been to begin with. Panting with exhaustion the little boy leaned against the wall of the long abandoned hallway and slid down it until he was sitting.
With a sniff Angus took off the useless mask and tried to ignore the prickling sensation behind his eyes. Pain lanced along his arms from where a few bees had managed to sting him before he had run away. Luckily he wasn't allergic, but that seemed to be the extent of his luck right now. He was still tired and hungry and hurt and so very very lost. However before he could give in to tears a light from down the hallway distracted him. It appeared to be daylight. Which confused Angus because he could have sworn that he had been slowly, and accidently, running further and further underground. So, like a curious cat, Angus picked himself up and moved toward the object of his curiosity.
At first the sight of what met his eyes confused him, then filled him with awe. It wasn't a window. Well, it was, but it wasn't a window set into the wall it was more like a skylight set into the floor. Thousands of feet below through a pane of thick clear glass the whole of fayrun was laid out before Angus’ feet. The little boy didn't know how long he stared in wonder before his brain started to work again. Static, fuzzy and obfuscating, filled his mind as he tried to think about where he was. So high above the earth, how did they keep their base a secret unless… static. Angus clutched his head and groaned. His brain trying to make connections that ran into something he couldn't think about.
“Hey there boychik, you ok?”
Angus nearly jumped out of his shoes in shock and turned, ready to run once more. The elf at first glance didn't seem very threatening. His hands were empty, slightly raised in supplication, like someone trying to calm a startled horse. An umbrella hung over one elbow which seemed like an odd fashion choice, but elves were well known for their eclectic tastes. The look on the elf’s face was worried, framed by a messy braid and a wizards hat to top it all off.
The wizard must have noticed Angus starting to calculate is chances of being able to run from him, so he quickly started to ramble.
“Just for the record, I’d avoid Fantasy Costco for the rest of my life if I was you. Garfield is angry enough to start spitting nails. You might be banned. Though I applaud you for the sheer amount of chaos you caused, total ten outta ten. Not to mention getting the jump on Maggie like you did. Have you been getting lessons from Carey behind my back? Rude Ango. You’re supposed to tell your favourite teacher of the arcane arts everything remember? Can't have you ruining my brand like that.”
Angus blinked several times in confusion, unsure how to answer barrage of information. So he just said the first thing that came to mind, “My name’s Angus, not Ango, sir.”
The elf relaxed slightly at his reply, “Duh, just making sure you knew that.” Angus didn't know what to make of that strange statement. “You know you’ve got the whole base in an uproar looking for you kiddo. Wanna tell me just what you think you’re doing?”
Anxiety curled in Angus’ gut. A small part of his brain was still urging him to make a run for it, but another told him to wait. The elf wasn’t being aggressive, hadn't really tried to capture him or grab him in any way. Though he could have when Angus had been distracted trying to think. In fact the wizard had been nothing but friendly and talkative so far. So Angus decided that for the moment it was worth the risk to talk and maybe get some questions answered.
“Why am I here?” Angus demanded, ignoring the childish crack in his voice as he tried to sound stern.
The elf frowned and his ears flicked back in what Angus interpreted as confusion, “What do you mean pumpkin?”
Feeling brave and a little angry now Angus asked again, “Why am I here? Where is here? Why can't I think or remember what happened before I woke up here?”
There was real concern on the wizards face now, “Angus what’s the last thing you remember?”
“I was with-” Angus hesitated thinking hard.
“I was going-” should it be this hard to remember?
“I don't-”
Suddenly static was all Angus could hear. He couldn't remember. His vision was blurred. Large black and white spots that he couldn't see through drifted across his vision. He couldn't think. His head hurt but he couldn't recall why. He doesn't remember.
He knows his name is Angus Macdonald. He knows that he’s the world’s greatest detective. He knows he has a Grandpa. He knows the names of things and can tell you the plot of every Caleb Cleveland novel. However he can't remember anything from his own life.
He knows is that something is very wrong, and then all he knows is black.