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“Alright class,” Lancer looks over the students with a strict eye. His gaze shifts to the clock on the back of the wall. Watching the second hand move the last few ticks to the top. “You may begin.”
The students flip over the sheet and begin to fill out the test.
The room fills with the shuffling of paper and pencils scratching away in the rhythmic motion of filling in paragraphs.
A slow build of static creeps into the classroom.
Star’s hair begins to lift up from the energy, as does Sam’s.
Dash shocks himself when he shifts in his chair, eliciting a minor twitch of surprise.
A cold sneaks up on them, goosebumps breaking out across the arms of those seated closest to the door and windows.
Valerie puts her pencil down to shrug on her hoodie.
Ashley starts to rub her arms to try and rub away the chill.
The static build to the point of an almost physical buzz that rings only when not paying attention.
The cold mists the breaths of every student in the room. Teeth begin to chatter from the cold as all but one student shivers minutely.
Lancer walks over to the thermostat, “Gulliver’s Travels, did the school turn on the AC in the middle of January?”
A crackle of electricity sparks in the front of the room. Flashing green and blue.
Every head snaps up, quiz forgotten.
Lancer turns, putting himself between the spark and the class.
The spark grows larger, a hole tearing the physical ties of reality.
Danny groans loudly, slumping in his chair.
“Danny is this-” Sam starts but stops when he scrubs his face with his hands. “I can’t believe you forgot?!”
“I told them I had a test I couldn’t miss!”
“Uh dude, I think this is more important than a test,” Tucker says, leaning over.
Danny opens his mouth to respond but hiccups, a glowing blue mist escaping his lips.
“What the fuck-”
“Language!”
“Fenturd?!” Dash exclaims.
“The Fates hate me,” Danny answers.
“Now now, Daniel,” an old, rumbling voice that sounds more like the turning of cog wheels in an old bell tower says. “You know very well that the Fates adore you.”
At the front of the room float Clockwork and a handful of observants. A glowing crown floats over Clockwork’s staff.
“Isn’t that the same thing?” Sam asks.
Clockwork’s expression doesn’t so much as shift as it just exudes amusement.
“Enough chatter,” the lead Observant snaps. “Get on with it.”
“Ah but that would be against decorum,” Clockwork states, patience filling his very being.
“Decorum is already lost,” they snap, “This entire farce is breaking tradition.”
“The boy’s existence goes against decorum!” the second Observant continues.
“Rude!” Danny says.
“Mr. Fenton?” Lancer asks, face ashen. “Do you, ah, happen to know-”
“Unfortunately,” Danny slumps further into his seat.
“Daniel, we discussed this,” Clockwork says, form shifting to that of his toddler size. He shifts the staff in his hands, the crown floats forward, glowing ever so slightly brighter.
“Yes, and I told you I was against it, I know for a fact that the eyeballs also hate this.” Danny throws a hand out to gesture at the Observants who harrumph. “Why couldn’t we do this, I dunno, sometime never?”
“Come here, child,” Clockwork intones. A ghostly vibrato filling their words.
Reluctantly, Danny gets up from his chair and walks to stand before the ghosts. “Do we have to do it right now?”
“As the Law Dictates, so shall it be done,” Clockwork gives a kindly smile, something more private. They drift forward, aging up to mirror Danny's own age. Cupping Danny’s cheek, they trace a figure under his eye with their thumb.
Danny wrinkles his nose and makes a noise of dissent in the back of his throat. Yet he leans further into Clockwork’s palm.
They float back, letting Danny go. “Samantha, Tucker,” they say, looking back over the seats, “Come here.”
The pair join Danny and take his hands.
“What in The Great Gatsby is going on?” Lancer demands, stepping between them.
“Destiny has called and the Fates have decided. It is Time,” the Lead Observant states. They pull out a long scroll from their sleeve. With a flourish it unravels and floats before them.
“What does that even mean?” Dash asks.
“It means that you are witnessing a moment of History that will be passed on for eons to come,” Clockwork answers.
“Yeah…and what does that mean?” Paulina asks.
“Daniel James Phantom Fenton is hereby appointed by The Council of Ancients to be Crowned. To Govern as the 482nd King of the Realms as is his Right through the Just and Honorable fight between himself and King Pariah Dark. The Council’s Hand has been moved by Great Mother who has given Her Blessing to honor the Appointment, so we ask you, Daniel James Phantom Fenton, First of your Line, do you Solemnly Accept the Crown and All the Responsibilities that it entails?” The lead Observant asks.
“I do,” Danny, lets go of his friend’s hands to take a knee before clockwork.
“Do you swear to uphold Peace and aim for Prosperity of the Immense Lands that call the Realms home?”
“I swear,” Danny says.
“And do you swear to Adhere to the Time Honored Traditions of the Law that has been Laid Down by King Leviathan, First King and Father of the Realms themselves?”
“I swear,” Danny says.
“Then the Law of Tradition is Upheld.”
“My Child,” Clockwork says, looking far older than time itself. Long white beard floating amongst the curl of their ghostly tail. “I present to you, The Crown of IceFire, may you carry it with Honor and Humility. May you stay true to Your Core.”
“I will carry it with Dignity and Respect, for the True Legacy of what it means, and for the Future to Come,” Danny says, bowing his head.
Clockwork twists the staff, guiding the crown to land gently on Danny’s head. A flood of light flows over Danny’s form, washing him in a powerful wave of green and white energy. The crown itself, twinkles in a glittering display as it transforms into a ring of ice flowers that adorn his hair. Rings of white move across his body in a blinding flash. As the light recedes, Phantom kneels in his place.
“You may rise, My King,” they say, floating back.
Danny rises, floating off the floor. The long cape of stardust flutters out exposing his far more tailored robes and embroidery.
The Observants turn to Clockwork.
“We are done here,” they say in unison, vanishing in a swirl of smoke.
“Good riddance,” Danny huffs, crossing his arms and sitting back on air.
Clockwork offers an amused smirk, “Be mindful of your words.”
“Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to remind me,” Danny waves off.
Clockwork arches an eyebrow, “I will be reminding you of many things for many more years to come, do please remember tomorrow’s events.”
“I already regret this,” he says, landing silently.
Clockwork makes what could only be described as the chiming of a grandfather clock. With a swirl of light, they vanish.
There’s a beat of silence, the temperature of the room rising quickly.
Sam whacks Danny on the shoulder, “I can’t believe you forgot your own coronation!”
“I didn’t forget!” Danny grouses, “I thought they would just postpone it! It’s not like they could host it if I didn’t show up.”
“Danny my man,” Tucker sighs, putting a hand on his other shoulder, “You’re a fucking dumbass.”
“Hey!”
“Uh, Mr. Fenton?” Lancer hedges, moving ever so closer to the trio.
“Yeah?” Danny turns.
“You’re, uh, glowing.”
Danny blinks slowly.
“You have a crown.”
Danny nods.
“You-”
“Sorry, are we going to continue stating obvious things?” Danny interrupts.
Lancer blinks, shaking his head. He opens his mouth and closes it. He frowns, holding one hand up before dropping it. He opens his mouth again, no sound comes out.
“I didn’t think it possible,” Tucker stage whispers, “But you broke him.”
Sam snorts, “Congrats, Danny.”
Lancer snaps to attention, “Brave New World, I need a drink.”