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There was a knock at the door.
Scott had been at the kitchen making dinner. It had been a long day for him, especially with the war ramping up again. He had to fortify the walls on top of all his other duties in the fields. So instead of opening the door like he usually did, he called out: "Hello?"
"Scott!" A familiar voice called out from the other side, and Nom knocked again. Immediately, Scott knew something was off. Nom never knocked. He always tapped the door like he was nervous to enter, or just let himself in. Whoever this was didn't feel like the Nom that Scott knew.
Scott must be paranoid, he thought. He should really get a grip, Blue was safe, and Nom even safer. But he didn't move to open the door, either. "Nom! How are you?"
"Good," Nom said. There was something in his tone— or maybe his words— that put Scott even more on edge. "Can I come in?"
Every instinct Scott had was screaming at him to say no. It might just be a fluke, but if it was, then Nom wouldn't get mad. "I don't know, I haven't cleaned up."
"You know I don't care about that sort of stuff," Nom laughed, and even the laugh was unfamiliar. Unsettling. Scott stepped towards the peephole, just to see if it was really Nom. And sure enough, the knight was standing on the porch, uncomfortably close to the door. But as Scott looked at him, he saw Nom's eyes trained on the space where Scott would enter from, like a predator waiting to pounce. And, more damning, his eyes were a glowing orange.
Scott stepped back, heart beating like he had been running for hours. That was not Nom.
Or maybe he had imagined it! Had he just been nervous and made up a reason to be? Yeah, all this stress and grief could be getting to him. He'll have to remember to see if he could schedule a visit to Cam.
But if he was right, then this person could be dangerous. If they were working for the Creaking King, they could be here to kidnap or kill Scott. Especially since they seemed to desperately wanted to be in the house.
"So?" Nom called. "Are you going to leave me out here?"
"I have a lot going on tonight, and I don't want to bore you," Scott laughed nervously. He couldn't let this imposter know he knew they weren't Nom, because if he did, they might just end the charade try to find an alternate way in. And if they were anything like Nom, they could just kick the door down. But there were patrols going on tonight, they wouldn't want to cause a fuss if they didn't have to.
All Scott had to do was keep his cool, and convince them to leave without arousing suspicion. "You never bore me, besides, two sets of hands makes stuff easier." Not-Nom replied.
"It's mage busy work."
"I love watching you do magic busy work."
"I'm new to this particular type of magic, I'm going to get embarrassed," Scott wasn't completely lying about that, this stuff was embarrassing, even when he was doing it around Nom, who couldn't tell the difference between a fizzled spell and a completed one.
"Don't be," The stranger said kindly. "It's just me. Do you not trust me?"
Scott felt a chill go down his spine. "Of course I trust you, Nom. I'm just tired. And a little ill. You know how it is."
"Let me take care of you. You've already done a lot today. If you're tired, I can clean everything up and you can go take an early night."
This was not Nom. Nom would have backed off by now, and gotten the hint. "Why do you want to come in so badly?" Scott kept his tone light.
"I miss you." And for a moment, he sounded like the knight Scott knew and loved. It broke Scott's heart.
But he had to hold firm. "Maybe tomorrow morning." He realized how out of character his reject was and added: "Love you."
"Okay, love you too," And Scott heard footsteps going away from the door. He sagged against a wall. He was safe. For now.
Slowly, he tried to regulate his breathing. Everything was going to be okay. It was just Nom, it was just Nom. He could ride out this moment of insanity.
Then he heard glass shattering.
Scott couldn't help but scream as he watched his greenhouse cave in under the weight of the mace, the carefully constructed panes giving way and shards littering the floor and flowerbeds. And stepping through the new hole, glass crunching under his armored boots, was Nom.
In almost every way, the stranger looked and acted like Nom. There was that same scar on his hand he got from training, the same hand that was dragging the mace behind him right now with the horrible sound of metal gouging wood. His smile was the same, but there was nothing behind it. His eyes were empty. Cold.
Scott tried to scramble back, but there was only the wall behind him. He was flickering in and out of sight, magic doing what it could to protect him from the threat he wouldn't be able to stop.
Not again. He couldn't deal with this again. Not the break in, or the hiding, or losing someone he loved. Scott felt ten again, rooted to the spot. He wouldn't make it to the door in time, he knew that much. So he might as well just accept his fate.
Scott curled in on himself as Nom slowly walked across the room. He seemed to be relishing the fear Scott was emanating. Then, finally, he was standing in front of Scott's corner. His mouth was pulled into a smile, and he lifted his mace.
Nom had to be in there somewhere. He wondered if Nom was a passenger in his own body, pleading as much as Scott was for this to end. But no.
Scott had to say something. To try. He felt his magic falter, and he looked into Nom's vacant orange eyes. And, barely audible to either of them, he whispered: "You promised."
Nom had promised safety. Protection. Love. He had made an oath. And now, if he did this, he would be an oathbreaker twice over.
For a moment, the mace hung in the air, suspended and shaking. Then Scott saw the fear and the guilt and the torment enter Nom's eyes, and heard the crash of the mace falling to the floor before he saw it.
Then there were arms around him.
Nom was holding onto Scott tightly, like if he let go, Scott would vanish. "I am so sorry," Nom said, because this was Nom. He didn't have to see his eyes, he just heard the raw emotion in Nom's voice. He repaired the apology again and again. There was wetness on Scott's shoulder
Scott couldn't relax. The danger was over. It had to be. But his breathing was still so fast, and he couldn't hug Nom back. He was still so, so afraid.
And yet, Scott let himself be held in the ruins of his house, glass strewn on the floor, and a new hole in his heart.