Chapter Text
“Hakuna matata. What a wonderful phrase.”
With much laughter and joy, the group of friends from the Blue Kingdom gathered together in the tavern in no man's land to watch the usually stoic Owain perform a slam poetry version of a well known song. Scott was somehow abruptly pulled into the act himself, as Owain had forgotten the song was a duet, and everyone was enjoying themselves thoroughly.
Scott was still breathless from laughter as Owain approached him to thank him for joining in. “Hey, what was your last name again?” the knight asked offhandedly. “Gold... Something? Smith? Spring..."
The blond elf shook his head in amusement. “Springwell,” he corrected.
“Ah, of course, of course,” Owain said quickly, and then he was off again, headed for the stage to make a few more remarks.
Scott sat in his chair, one elbow on the table, and an odd sound started ringing in his ears. “Gold... Smith,” echoed in his mind. “Goldsmith. Scott Goldsmith.”
No one seemed to notice as Scott drooped, his hands coming shakily up to cradle his head. *What is happening?* he thought dully. His vision had started tunneling, and the ringing soon became a loud roar, drowning out the laughter of his friends.
He'd never heard that name before. Why was it repeating over and over in his head? His eyes closed as his head ached, his hands clenching in his hair.
And then it all stopped. The room stopped spinning around him, and carefully he opened his eyes, looking blearily around to take in his surroundings.
Scott Goldsmith had no idea where he was. A large room, where he sat alone at a wooden table facing a small stage. Sitting at many other tables nearby were people he didn't recognize even after his vision finally focused.
Smoothly, he got to his feet, pressing forward towards the stage before turning to face them all. “Did anyone besides me see what happened just now?” he demanded. “A spell has been cast upon me, and I need to know which one of you did it, and why.”
All chatter ceased, as everyone stared at him with wide eyes. A few glanced between him and the seat he'd just vacated.
Finally, a woman in pink armor near him got to her feet. “Wait, Scott?! I hardly recognized you! I swear, I did not see whoever cast this spell upon you. Everyone, spread out and search!”
The room became a flurry of movement as they all stood and started looking around the room. One of them opened the front door, calling out that they'd check outside the tavern.
The person who had been on stage, wearing the most bizarre armor Scott had ever seen, approached him, placing an armored hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, Scott? Any ill effects besides your hair and clothes changing?”
Scott checked himself over, raising an eyebrow when he realized his clothes were exactly the same as they'd been just a minute ago. Tugging a lock of hair in front of his eyes revealed the same obnoxious blue it had been on and off for the last thousand years. “I'm not sure what you mean,” he confessed. “I've always looked like this. But I definitely was not here before the spell hit me. I was in a town called Oakhurst.”
The armored man tilted his head curiously, the big lion head helmet glinting in the torchlight. “Impossible. You've been here all afternoon. Unless you're not Scott?”
“I am Scott,” he confirmed. “Scott Goldsmith.”
The other man scoffed, folding his arms. “Goldsmith? Alright, Scott, now I get it. You're jesting me for getting your name wrong earlier. Ha ha, very funny. You can stop now.”
“I assure you, I have never met you in my life,” Scott told him simply. “And trust me, I have a very good memory.”
The lion was about to answer when another armored man, this one with black hair, approached. “There's no one suspicious about,” he reported.
The lion armor man stepped back. “Thanks, Nom. It's all right, Scott is just pulling a very elaborate prank on us all. He says his name is Scott Goldsmith.”
Scott narrowed his eyes. “I'm not joking,” he insisted. “I have never been here before. I don't know who any of you are.”
Nom examined him intently, staring into his eyes. “I don't think he's jesting, Owain,” he said slowly. “His eyes... This looks like Scott, but it's not him.”
The lion went silent for several long moments as the others who had been in the room came back to gawk one by one. Finally, he shook his head. “If you're not Scott Springwell,” he said, “then where is he?”
“That's a good question,” Scott said darkly. “If I had to guess... Oakhurst.”
--
“Well, this complicates things.”
Scott grinned as he gazed across the beacon at, apparently, his fellow vampire. “Interesting,” he purred.
“What's going on up there?” Pyro asked unsurely from below.
“Nothing!” Scott assured him, never taking his eyes off of Owen. “I just don't like sharing, is all.”
The scruffy lumberjack scowled at him. “Well, I was here first,” he asserted.
“I doubt that.”
“200 years.”
“That's baby talk. Try over 600.”
Owen looked crestfallen. “600? Oh my lord... Goldsmith! I knew it rang a bell.”
Scott could only laugh at the pitiful look on the other vampire's face.
Except, a strange ringing sound suddenly drowned out his own laughter. *Goldsmith*, he heard his name echo. *Goldsmith*.
*Springwell.*
A headache suddenly assaulted the elder vampire, and he clutched his hands across his face. What? Why?
This feeling... It was the same as when that witch had put him to sleep all those years ago. But how was it happening again? Why now?
He let out a scream of rage and pain. “No!” He snarled. “I only just broke free! You can't take me again!”
“Scott! Are you alright?” he distantly heard the scholar cry out to him, but everything was blurry now, far away and fading fast. His vision exploded into stars and lights. And then, it all went still.
Scott Springwell looked up shakily, aware that he was on his knees in a dark place, but otherwise not having any idea what had just happened.
A hand fell on his shoulder and he flinched away, looking up fearfully at a man he'd never met before.
“Are you alright?”
Scott stared at him, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. “I... I don't know. Where am I?”
The man glanced to the side, meeting the eyes of another figure standing further back, before returning his attention to Scott. “We're just outside of Oakhurst. You, me, and Owen went together to check out one of the beacons. We were all looking at it, and suddenly you fell down and screamed. Then, then your clothes changed, and your hair...”
Scott felt at his familiar tunic, his belt and the many pouches hanging from it. Everything seemed in place, even the little flowers he kept woven into his hair. “I... I don't...” He swallowed hard. “I don't know this place. I don't know... Who are you?”
The dark haired man looked surprised. “Me? I'm Pyro. We met in town a few days ago. Do you not remember?”
Scott shook his head. “I don't remember any of that. I was just in Bannerfall a second ago. It felt like someone was forcefully teleporting me or something. But I've never heard of a teleport going so far.”
He remembered the name echoing through his mind. “Does the name Goldsmith mean anything to you?” he wondered.
Pyro tilted his head in confusion, and the other figure flinched. “Yes. That's your name, isn't it?”
Scott frowned. “It's not. My name is Scott Springwell. But I heard someone saying that name right before everything went... Weird.”
The other man came and crouched beside him, looking him over critically. “Springwell. Interesting. My name is Owen, by the way. Since you've clearly forgotten.”
“We should get you back to town,” Pyro said worriedly. “Maybe have the Doc look you over. Maybe he can help figure out what happened. Though I doubt he's heard of anything that can magically change someone's clothes and erase their memory.”
“Still, it's an excellent idea,” Owen said immediately. “Pyro, why don't you run ahead to let the others know we're coming? I'll help Scott get there.”
Scott climbed back to his feet. “Actually, I think I'm alright,” he assured them. “The headache is gone now, and my vision's back to normal. I agree, we should go to town, especially since it's night time. But there's no need to hurry. I can walk on my own.”
“Nonsense,” Owen insisted. “You shouldn't push yourself after what just happened, but the Doc should see you as quickly as possible. Let Pyro go on ahead so they can meet us halfway.”
Pyro nodded. “You can count on me,” he said quickly. Without waiting for any further argument, he turned and dashed away, plunging into the water and wading through it to the shore on the other side. It was only then that Scott registered that they were on a small island of some sort, with a black stone monument in the center.
Owen watched Pyro disappear into the trees before turning back to Scott. “So. You *haven't* been here for the last 600 years, I'm guessing?” He gave him an intense look.
Scott bit his lip. “Uh, no? Have you?”
A wicked smile spread across the other man's face. “Then I suppose that means I no longer have to worry about sharing with you. Now the question is... Do I leave you human?”
The blond elf cocked his head. “Human? I'm not a...”
Owen didn't give him any time to think. He drew a sword and lunged directly at Scott.
With a yelp, Scott tried to dodge away, but was unable to prevent a large gash from being ripped across his arm. Quickly, he pulled his new flower staff out of the holster of his belt and it enlarged to its full size in his hands. With a few jerky waves, he cast his spell, and he became invisible.
Owen kept coming at him. “Magic? I wasn't expecting that. But you cannot hide the scent of your blood from me.” His sword cut down, and Scott only barely managed to get out of the way.
“Why are you doing this?” Scott asked desperately. He waved his staff again, trying to decide what spell to cast next.
Owen somehow grabbed his shoulder despite his invisibility. “Because I'm very, very hungry,” he growled.
Scott jerked back, swinging his staff and knocking Owen away. A moment later, his thorns spell spread across the small island they stood on, scratching the other man and spreading their poison into him.
Owen snarled, leaping back out of the magical thorns. Scott wove back and forth through the plants, trying to make his exact location less obvious.
The man attacking him circled the border, eyes casting around, trying to pinpoint the invisible elf. Occasionally he swiped with his sword, and his jabs were terrifyingly accurate.
Scott cycled through his spell list, trying to decide what to do next. He had bubble capture prepared, but that was a concentration spell and would turn off his invisibility. Then again, Owen seemed to have heightened senses, and was figuring out where he was anyway.
Or he could try to teleport away, across the water and into the trees. But he didn't know how to get to the town Pyro had mentioned, and he might not be able to hide. Not if Owen could literally sniff him out.
Bubble capture it was, then. If he could hold Owen far away from him until Pyro got back...
He cast his spell, fading back into view as a burst of bubbles encircled Owen. A moment later, his attacker was hanging in the air, flailing wildly.
“What is this!?” Owen demanded, trying to escape. He wouldn't be able to, though, not without a huge burst of movement.
Scott sat back in his tangle of thorns, breathing hard as he kept his staff pointed to keep Owen in the air. “Why me?!” he cried. “I literally just got here, why are you attacking me?”
Owen didn't answer. Instead he suddenly transformed, and a moment later, the bubble capture was filled with bats. So many bats that they all pushed and shoved against each other, until more and more of them escaped the bounds of the capture, flying into the open sky.
One of the freed bats swooped down, slamming into Scott's side with far more force than a simple bat should have been able to do. Scott rolled completely out of the thorns, and then Owen was on top of him again.
Scott raised his staff to block the incoming sword blow. To his surprise, though, Owen no longer held a sword, and he caught Scott's staff in one hand and his shoulder in the other, slamming the elf on his back against the ground. Scott cried out in pain as Owen sank his teeth into his neck.
*I'm going to die*, he found himself thinking in a disconnected sort of way. *And today was going so well...*
The world fuzzed. His body felt strange and somewhat alien.
And then he was sitting up slowly, one hand going to his neck. Owen sat on the ground a few feet away, licking his lips and looking smug.
“Your blood tastes strange,” the vampire commented. “And your ears are pointed. You're not human, are you?”
Scott shook his head, his attention going to the tree line. He'd always been able to see better in dim light than his human companions, but now it felt practically like day time, and he could clearly make out individual leaves on the trees. “An elf,” he said distractedly. “And now, something else, I'm guessing?”
“A vampire.” Owen confirmed. He grinned at Scott. “And I advise you not to advertise that fact to the humans in town. There's at least one vampire hunter amongst them, and the rest are the sort of sheep likely to follow along with throwing a few vampires on the pyre.”
Shakily, Scott picked his staff up off the ground. He could still sense his magic flowing within him, and he had the same access to his spells as before. But he also had the sense of new magic, ancient magic, and it made him shudder. And deep under it all, a gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach.
“You probably shouldn't use any spells in town either,” Owen advised. “For the same reason. Witch hunts were prevalent in my time, and I see no reason why humans would have changed those views.”
“Why? Why did you do this to me?” Scott whimpered, brushing tears from his eyes.
Owen shrugged. “I was planning to turn you anyway. Well, the other you, I mean. Then you suddenly became an unknown factor. It seemed best to get you under my thumb while I still could. I'm your sire now; I have power over you. Never forget that.”
Scott slumped in defeat. Wasn't that just always true? Someone else always deciding his fate. “All I wanted to do was sell flowers,” he lamented.
Owen got to his feet and dusted himself off. “We should head towards town. Wouldn't want anyone thinking we were delayed by anything.”
Scott held out his injured arm. “You really think they're not going to question...” He trailed off as he realized the arm was now completely healed. And so was the bite on his neck. “... Huh. Well, alright then... Sire...”
--
They were almost back to town, the wooden walls in view, by the time they met up with a group coming to help them.
“Good, we found you.” The one in the lead, an older man with a scar across his face, wiped sweat from his brow and set down what looked like a bag of medical supplies. “I was worried we'd miss each other in the trees. Sending Pyro ahead was a risky move.”
“Sorry,” Pyro apologized, looking anxious. “I couldn't just sit still, not when something so crazy happened.”
A woman in red stepped forward, taking Scott's arm gently. “He said you've lost your memories,” she said softly. “My name's Pearl. We're friends.”
“And we're friends, too!” called another girl, with dark red hair and cute glasses. “We're roommates! I'm Shelby!”
Scott nodded in general greeting, but froze when he turned to the last member of the group: a stern looking woman with her brown hair tied up at the top of her head.
“My name is-”
“Apo.” One of the knights of the Red Kingdom, dressed in very different clothes, but otherwise the same.
Apo narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes. You remember me?”
Scott shook his head. “I remember a different you,” he said. “Just like I'm a different Scott than the one you met before.”
Legundo began checking him over, gently taking his chin and tilting it side to side as he shone a small light into his eyes. “No signs of concussion,” he murmured. “Odd. I would have expected some sort of head trauma with a story like that.”
“Maybe,” Scott said nervously, glancing over at Owen and remembering his warning. “I don't really know what happened. Could have been anything.” He stepped back from the doctor. “I'm, uh, feeling fine now, though. I mean, my memory is weird, but everything else is, uh okay.”
“We should get you home,” Shelby suggested, tugging him along. “A good night's sleep should fix you right up.”
Legundo didn't look convinced. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure,” Scott said unsurely.
Shelby gave him a knowing look. “Let's go. You need sleep, and if Avid finds you like this, it's just going to make his vampire accusations even worse.”
Scott gulped. “Yeah, okay.” He let Shelby hurry him away from the group.
--
The moment they entered the half-built little house that Shelby led him to, she showed him to the room's only bed.
“Here, you sleep. You need it.”
She barely waited for him to sit down on the bed before she pulled a chair over, her eyes sparkling. “Okay roomie. Give it to me straight. You got kidnapped by a faerie, right?”
Scott blinked at her, his mouth open. “Uh. What?”
“Come on. It's not Bigfoot, that's not really his MO. But the fae, they're tricky. That's why your hair and clothes are all different, right?” She seemed very excited. “Ooh, does that make you a changeling? Did you accidentally give one your name?”
“Uh... No?” Scott shook his head. “Don't get me wrong, something *definitely* kidnapped me out there. I just have no idea what actually happened.”
Shelby let out a tiny squeal. “That's so exciting! Please, tell me everything!”
Scott wasn't sure what it was about this girl that made him feel like he really could just tell her everything, despite Owen's warning, but that's the way it was. She seemed trustworthy.
He could get away with just telling her about the swap, right? And keep Owen's secret private? Owen couldn't get mad at him for that, right?
Scott swallowed hard. “Just. Don't tell anyone else about this,” he insisted. "I've been told nobody will believe you if you do."
Shelby nodded quickly. She ran a hand across her mouth as though zipping it shut.
“Then... I'll tell you what I know.”
--