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His Story, Torn Apart

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Angeline was dying, that much was clear. He had seen every specialist, doctor, and midwife in the state, and no one could help her. However, one referred him to an old woman in the woods. It was an obvious set up, yet Artemis couldn’t say no, not with his wife and unborn child on the line, so to the trap he went. Only it wasn’t a trap. The lady was genial, sincere, and, unfortunately for her, infertile.

“Of course I can heal, the question is, can you pay?”

“Name a price and I’ll take care of it.”

“Even if that price was the child?”


“In exchange for your wife, I will make the child my heir. When I die, he will receive the family magic in addition to whatever he gains by being birthed here.”




It never skipped Holly’s notice that wherever Artemis went, he wore strange jewelry. She assumed it was just an Irish aristocrat thing, but now she wasn’t so sure. He seemed to be almost fiddling with the clasp around his neck, but his face was a mask of cool indifference. The two gemstones, one with a shattered green look and the other with a swirling blue pattern, clinked together, flashing in the light of the setting sun.

“Anxious much, Mudboy?”

“You try breaking the news to your parents that every year since age twelve you’ve been off gallivanting with your fairy friends.”



If Holly didn’t believe Artemis had magic based on all the times he gave them a Frond-given miracle, she surely did now. Everything was slightly floating, swirling, and a blue haze around him, and ...was he singing in French?

“Les rêves qui sommeillent dans nos coeurs, au creux de la nuit, habillent nos chagrins de bonheur, dans le doux secret de l'ou -” Everything crashed down.

“Hello. Holly. There’s no way of saying that didn’t happen, is there?” He said, still not looking up.

“Not a chance Mud Kid.” He swore softly, before looking up, a soft smile gracing his features. He looked at peace, and a sudden pang of hurt stabbed Holly. She had came up here to drag the child away to face trumped up charges.

“You’re stressed, why?” He looked genuinely worried for her. And just like that, something shifted, and she was prepared to protect him from everything.

Somewhere, a woman on her deathbed smirked.



The commander stared at the package on his desk. It read To: Commander Julius Root, no return address, no other markings, but yet somehow he knew the Mudboy who had most of the council out for his blood was behind it. Justifiably, he couldn’t, he remembered nothing, the mind wipe technology was unparalleled, unable to be beat, right? And yet there sat evidence to the contrary. Gingerly, Julius opened the package. Inside it sat a letter and four rings, gemstones set in each one. Against his better judgement he put them on. Almost instantaneously, he felt magic settle over him, magic of the Earth. He then remembered the letter.

Dear Julius,

In the event that I am not able to give these to you personally, these are a prototype of a half-baked idea. It would do well for them to remain that way. - Your Favorite Migraine 

Julius rolled his eyes, if nothing else, they would be useful for punching out criminals. 



The screaming had continued on for the past seven minutes and 32...33…34 seconds, unending. Blood began pouring from Artemis’ nose, eyes, mouth. And just like that, it was over. He had stopped, and was completely still, magic still floating off his frame in a blue green haze. They cleaned up the body, disturbed by exactly how much water and blood came out of the boy. Then, blue sapphire eyes snapped open. 



“Be well,” He said, and then an orange flame blossomed in the center of his chest. Strangely enough, Julius Root was recovered, body fairly unharmed, if unconscious. His rings were destroyed, nothing more than dust on the ground. He was rushed to medical, where he regain consciousness fairly quickly, for having a bomb strapped to him and exploded.



Butler never had to be won. He just was, a constant in an ever changing world. 



“You’d never do it Mudboy, never a killer, you won’t.” Opal was rambling, almost incoherent with rage. Why hadn’t Root died in that explosion? Why hadn’t the blue rinse worked? Why?

“Shut up, pixie. You’d do well to remember your place.” He said back, almost bored.

“My place, I am Opal Kob-” She was cut off by a dime sized hole in her head. No one in the room would tell who shot it, they stared down the council as one, silent. 



Artemis handed Foaly a paper, full of corrected formulas and equations.

“I, we, Hybras!” Artemis smiled back and disappeared.  



The Council wanted Artemis mind wiped immediately. LEPRecon wanted Artemis’ abilities immediately. Section 8, well, they just wanted Artemis, and maybe his merry band of misfits. So to Section 8 they went. 



In the midst of the business with Spiro, a beautiful necklace made of gems made its way into Holly’s possession. Sometimes she swore it glowed with ethereal light. 



“You mind telling us exactly how, you happened upon these abilities, Mr. Fowl?”

“There were two women dying in the middle of Louisiana, my mother and a witch. The witch would my grant my father more time with his wife in exchange for me. I would become the witch’s heir, all of her family magic and knowledge went to me. I haven’t had the time to go through all of her texts, but I had time for enough, Wing Commander.”

“Enough for what, Mr. Fowl?”

“Enough to change things the way I see fit, Wing Commander.”