Chapter Text
Daybreak and Nightfall
Book One of the Little Red Time-Traveler Chronicles
Written and Illustrated by Corvus Aubrey
Additional Illustrations by No One Currently
Edited by No One Currently
Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Wolf series. It belongs to its creators and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Additional Materials: Time Travel, Shape Shifters, vampires, Kitsunes, new magical abilities, creature inheritances, magical inheritances, monetary and real estate inheritances, secret family histories, magical nobility, Summons, Necromancy, Grimoires, politics, apprenticeships, multi-dimensional world, new magical creatures, Yōkai, new cultures and customs, artists and musicians, serial killer, mystery and suspense, angels, demons, Lucifer, Cambion, Nephilim, different kinds of cultural magic, thieves, gentlemen bastards, pick pocketing, criminal underworld, remarkable characters, powerful characters, Egyptian Mythology, Greek and Roman mythology, Norse Mythology, Multi-belief systems, Werewolf packs and cultures, Cameo appearances of Merlin, King Arthur, Lancelot, Gwaine, Morgana, Mordred, Nicolas Flamel, Pirates, Shinigami-reinvented, Alchemists, new branches of magic, Intricate new cultures, hidden heritage and secret creature lore, Banshee, Druids, Nogitsune, Oni, Nemeton, Alchemists, Elemental Spirits (Undine, Sylphs, Gnomes and Salamanders), Dark Spirits, Nightmares incarnate, Age differences, Wendigo, Onmyō Mages, Curses, Spring-heeled Jack, Jack the Ripper, powerful characters, Magic – Stiles, BAMF – Stiles, BAMF – Lydia Martin, BAMF – Derek Hale, BAMF – Peter Hale, Druid – Deaton, Magical Prodigy – Stiles, Genius – Stiles, One-sided – Scott McCall/Stiles, Lydia and Stiles are Best friends, Greco-Roman Mythology, Nordic Mythology, Egyptian Mythology, Gaelic-Irish Mythology and Shinto/Buddhism themes, New Identity, Time Traveler – Stiles, Mildly-Magical – Peter, Graphic Sexual Content, Love Triangles, Protective-Possessive Derek and Peter, Pining – Scott McCall, AU – Timeline, New Packs, Original Characters, Bisexual – Scott, Werewolf – Scott, Beta –Scott, Yōkai, Kitsunes, Illusions, Dream Walker, and Scott has a younger Brother, Time Skips, Horror, Mystery, Suspense, Lightly Researched Religious reference (No Discrimination), Happy Endings, Psychiatric Bloodline Curses
Summary: Scholars agree that time is linear. Stiles Stilinski had just proved them wrong. Time travel is a precarious thing, Stiles would later decide. Stiles Stilinski begins again.
“Blah” – Speaking / Blah – Thinking, Memories and Written Word /
This story will be written in first person for the Main Character (Stiles Stilinski), while other characters’ points-of-view will be written in third person. Stiles Stilinski was born in 1990 (I am rewriting the dates because math isn’t my strong point). So, if following this story chronologically, Claudia dies in 1998, the Hale fire occurs a few days afterwards. If Derek is fourteen at the time of the fire, then he was born in 1984. I am making Peter only ten years older than Derek and six years older than Laura, making Peter born in 1974 and Laura in 1980. Stiles is seven when Claudia dies and the Hale fire occurs. Faolan Hart is three years older than Stiles, making him born in 1987. This will be written slowly and the events will occur at the pace of a snail – beware.
Part One: Little Red
Prologue: Ringing Hell’s Bells
It is raining. The skies broke with torrents of water like the biblical verses retold Noah and his Ark. Maybe I am exaggerating. Then again I a lying here badly wounded, so I think you allow me my melodramatics. Fuck, I swore internally. After senior year, without the supernatural threats that the pack needed my mad skills with, the pack grew distant from me. I was nineteen years old when my world came crashing down. Grandpa Stilinski was hit by a car and was dying on the operating table in Los Angeles. My father, Jack Stilinski, drove to Los Angeles to perform a blood transfusion. Turns out, Dad wasn’t Grandpa’s biological son. They had no genetic markers in common. Grandpa died while my father watched on, unable to do anything for the man who raised him. Dad turned to drinking and shortly before my twentieth birthday, Dad died of alcohol poisoning. I was sick and tired of losing everyone I loved. I packed up and left Beacon Hills without saying goodbye to anyone. I returned every year to pay my respects to my mother and father’s graves.
Although, from the things I had unearthed, I didn’t particularly respect either of them. My mother had wanted to live a mortal life despite being born as the Immortal Sidhe, Claudia O’Hairt. She had chosen to use a ritual to pass on her immortality to her son in order to die. My father was Nikodem Salvatore, who had been kidnapped at his birth from his biological family – famous old Magick Practitioners – and was abandoned shortly after, when he hadn’t shown the gift. Nikodem or Jacek “Jack” Stilinski never knew about his ancient heritage. I didn’t care for either of my parents’ poor choices.
I had been visiting their graves in Beacon Hills when some sort of Supernatural being had attacked me. The pack had left me in the mud, chasing after this threat. If I had been mortal, I would’ve been dead. To add insult to injury, no one came to check on me. An hour after being wounded, I staggered onto my feet and made my way to the car. The blue jeep had kicked the bucket a while back and I had bought a second-hand truck in Los Angeles.
I was currently living in Los Angeles, working with a big-time, rare-books dealer, Jeremiah.
Jeremiah might not care for my fashion sense, but he was thrilled with my magical potential and skills in arguing down the price of a book. He had a whole section of books he had dedicated to my research. Jeremiah had been on my nerves of late. He kept giving me these little hints, which were obvious now looking back on it. He knew I wasn’t satisfied with my lot in life. He knew that I had yet to awaken one of my mage gifts and he was pushing me to explore this particular gift. Looking back at it, I should’ve known – he knew I was a Time Mage. I was already marked as an Elemental Mage and Alchemist, so having three Mage gifts was a big deal. Most Mages only had one and if you were exceptionally gifted you go two. I decided I wanted a second chance and a second chance I got, but second chances always came with a price.
A life for a life was the price of my second chance. It was only several hours after the funeral for my mother. My father and Stiles Stilinski, my former self, were dead. They were killed in a car accident involving a drunken Mr. McCall and his lover. Mrs. McCall and Scott were devastated. I of course only heard this second hand. After all, I had just woken from a coma. My name was now Maolsneachta Cian Serafin Kalina-O’Hairt, otherwise known as Faolan Hart, by the medical staff. I was three years older than my cousin, Stiles, had been. I am ten-years old. I had been in coma since I was seven and Stiles was four years old. I was Claudia’s nephew.
The day of the Hale fire, I snuck out of the hospital and headed, on my slowly regenerating muscles, to the preserve surrounding the Hale household. I hid my presence with my magic as the police searched for me. Kate Argent was a crafty bitch, I thought to myself. She had used a lesser magic, usually used by tired mothers, to spell the Hale residents into a deep slumber. She had then surrounded the house in mountain ash to prevent the wolves from escaping. Additionally, she had placed silencing spells on the household, so no one could hear their cries. From a distance, I watched as she lit the house on fire and quickly retreated. As she neared the preserve, I snuck up on her. She wore this irritating smirk and without any hesitation I knocked her out with my magic.
I moved quickly, destroying the mountain ash circle and breaking down the front door, which was already consumed by flames. I found Peter Hale asleep on the couch in the living room. I froze momentarily, before slapping him across the face. He jolted awake, staring at me for a moment in complete befuddlement, before I pointed at the spreading fire wordlessly. He flew into movement screaming for his family. As they began stumbling around, I wordlessly helped Peter break into different rooms releasing the trapped children and adults. I was a kid, ten-years-old, but I still managed to assist Peter to get everyone out of the house, no matter how much he tried to make me stick outside. Peter and Talia were the last to escape before the house blew up, the fire finally reaching the gas line.
Siren echoed in the distance. I backed away from the group slowly intending to leave, when Peter scooped me up into his arms. “You’re not supposed to be out of the Hospital, Faolan. Don’t think I didn’t recognize you.” Peter admonished me. I stared at him wordlessly. “I visit the hospital often enough, I remember you.” I pouted. Well there goes my disappearing act. “Do you know who did this?” Peter asked.
I leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Kate Argent, I knocked her out. She’s in the woods. I also went to her apartment and removed the supernatural bits, but left the police enough evidence to put her away indefinitely for arson, attempted murder, statutory rape and assault.” Peter had gone still. He moved me to look in his eyes, which are flashing golden-brown.
“Who are you?” He demanded.
“Time Mage,” I said quickly as the police arrived and began questioning everyone. One of the policemen caught sight of me and quickly approached Peter who is holding me tightly to his chest, not in a threatening manner, more of relieved and somewhat possessive hold. “Hello officer.” I say softly.
“Faolan, we were looking for you. Where did you go?” he asked softly.
“I wanted to visit Aunty Claudia, Uncle Jack and Stiles’s graves,” I said softly, tearing up slightly, “But I got lost. Then the house was on fire and couldn’t just leave everyone inside like the woman who lit it did.”
“He woke me up. I was sleeping on the couch.” Peter says, “I then got everyone out of the house with his help. He wouldn’t stay outside, but we all got out.”
“This woman, who lit it, what did she look like?” the officer asked cautiously.
“She’s over there.” I said pointing to where Kate was unconscious, “She tripped over me and fell while she was leaving.” I said, “I didn’t like her smile, so I just left her there.” The office quickly called over his chief and several other officers. They questioned me as two officers escorted an unconscious and hand cuffed Kate to the hospital on a stretcher. Several officers were dispatched to examine her apartment.
There is smoke in the distance. Derek and Laura are running towards their family home. The sound of fire engines can be heard in the distance. God, how could he be such an idiot, this was his fault. If anyone was dead it would be his fault. They reach the Hale house, which is black skeleton of what it once was. Derek falters in his step, before he catches sight of the entire family on the front lawn. Laura is already clinging to their mother.
I am escorted back to the hospital, to my own private room with an officer assigned to watch over me. The Hales were checked over by the hospital staff and were cleared. The police had found enough evidence to pin Kate as a serial arsonist and Derek had reluctantly testified to have been in a relationship with her. She was headed to prison for a long time. Two days later, Peter stopped by with Talia.
Peter sits down next to my bed. He rests his elbows on his knees and studies my face thoughtfully. It is Talia who is going to question me, I vaguely realize. Turning to her, I look at her expectantly. “So we did some research on Time Mages and although their documentation is very rare we were able to determine two things – one there was a price for you to travel back and two, you were someone different previously.” She said.
“You’re correct,” I said, “My name was Stiles Stilinski and my price was the death of my father and my former self. Time Mages never know the price they will incur for time travel.” I said carefully.
“You don’t seem too broken up about it.” Peter murmured, but I heard him. Talia looked at Peter in admonishment and gave him a warning glare.
“I loved my father,” my voice cracked, “But he made a lot of stupid choices and so did my mom. Both have been dead in my former timeline long enough for me to grieve and then move on.” I said, my voice trembling.
“I am sorry,” Peter apologized sincerely. My empathic gift was nearly swamped with his guilt.
“It’s okay, you didn’t know. I still feel guilty though.” I whispered.
“So Faolan, what do you intend to do now?” Talia asked carefully.
“I don’t know. I will probably end up in the foster care system though.” I said.
“Is there anyone in particular you’d want to live with?” Peter asked. My mind drifted to the McCall family, but honestly Melissa could barely afford to care for her son, she could not take care of a second child.
“No,” I said resolutely. I felt a sensation in my head, like something trying to surface and my mouth moved without my consent, “Hecate Institute.” I breathed, suddenly knowledge of where and how to contact the institute flooded my mind. “It is an Institute dedicated to protecting the magical arts and obscure knowledge,” my eyes grew distant, “There is no tuition and the Institute provides housing, an education and allowance for children. There are two options for housing for me, specifically. One, I would live in one of the dormitories of the institute in Greece or two, I could remain within Beacon Hills, but you would need to allow the Headmistress to cleanse and return the Nemeton to its former purpose. I would live in preserve, near the Nemeton and receive lessons from astral projections empowered by the Nemeton. Furthermore, by cleansing the Nemeton, the recent still births in your pack will decline rapidly. I would be named the Guardian of the Beacon Hill’s Nemeton by the Magical Community.” My eyes refocus and I curse under my breath. I hate the sensation of a foreign conduit flowing through me. In the back of my skull I felt the Headmistress laugh.
Peter and Talia exchange messages with their eyes, “You will be staying in Beacon Hills.” Talia said firmly, “How do we contact this Headmistress?” She asked.
“No need, she is already booking a flight.” I said with a sigh, “She will be here in three days.”
“Faolan, how does this Institute educate their students? I understand they rely on Astral Projection?”
I groaned, “What most Magic practitioners and Emissaries neglect to inform the other species is that magic isn’t set in stone. I am registered or rather was registered as an Alchemist, Elemental Mage and now a Time Mage, but not all Elemental Mages have the same gifts neither do Time Mages nor Alchemists. For example, it is common for a Mage to be able to manipulate a single element, but if it’s more than two elements then they are called an Elemental Mage no matter their specific elements. For example someone can control water and lighting, while another can only control Heat and Static electricity, both are called Elemental Mages. Time Mages are really rare. The most I’ve heard of them are the precognitive and retrocognitive gifted, who are able to see through time. There were rumors of bodily moving through time, but hey living proof.” I said sardonically. “Anyway, learning is more about self discovery and learning to manipulate your specific gifts to suit your individual needs.”
“And what are you needs?” Peter asked absolutely fascinated.
“Well, that depends on the marks of character, which is a test. You ingest this disgusting, vile and absolutely rotten potion and hallucinate for a bit before it imprints on your skin. There are five Mage roles – Healer, Gnosis, Warrior, Guide and Leader. I was foremost a Guide and then a Warrior and a Healer. I don’t know what I will be imprinted with now that the Hale pack is alive in this timeline.” I admitted. “Usually, a Mage only has one or two imprints, but I had three because of all the different things I needed to do for my former pack.”
“What is a difference between a Druid and Mage?” Talia asked thoughtfully.
“You know how they say an Alpha Wolf is higher than a Beta Wolf on the totem pole?” I asked, they both nod, “Well, imagine this, there’s two totem poles, one has sixteen levels and is elegantly carved the other has four roughly hewed levels and is a lot shorter. A Druid is like third, second from the top, on the shorter totem pole. They are usually dependant on lore and bestiaries and work as Emissaries. Their totem pole, while not as refined and fancy as mine, has more potential to grow at this point. Furthermore, any child trained in their ways can be a Druid, while my abilities are genetic.”
“So where does a Mage place on a totem pole?” Peter asked.
I blushed uncomfortably. I hated to admit to any superiority because honestly I thought myself above no one. I consider myself equal among all. “The top.” I said finally.
“Why are you uncomfortable with that?” Talia asked. I silently cursed the werewolf’s perceptiveness.
“I don’t feel anyone is superior to anyone else. I think each individual is unique, with their own strengths and weaknesses. Sure, I might be magically powerful, but hell, I know Deaton has more experience with supernatural.” I said, compelled to speak honestly, “Furthermore, I refuse to allow myself to even think that I am better than anyone else. I don’t like to admit my power levels due to that. I take pride in “who I am”, but I don’t gloat or lord over people.”
“You’re a good kid.” Talia said after some scrutiny.
“Question, what do you feel about people who are evil?” Peter asked abruptly.
I smirked, I know a philosophical debate when someone begins one, “There is no good and there is no evil, but only the way you perceive it. For example Mr. McCall has inadvertently killed my father. Now most people would call him an evil bastard. Fact: he was drunk. Fact: his behavior is impulsive and self indulgent. Point in case, he has a wife and a son, but is practicing infidelity. Honestly, everyone has their motivations. Whether we find that motivation moral, immoral or within the extent of the law or not, does not give us the right to decide he is evil. To err is human. A person is molded by their innate nature and they way they were raised. Beliefs and behaviors are the result of experience and observations and we gain this from our family and people who surround us. Motivation is everything. I know he’s going to be behind bars for at least several years. I pity him because he’s going to have to live with two deaths on his consciousness for the duration of his life. He killed Scott’s, his son’s, best friend. He will be reviled and hated, hopeful it will make him a better man.”
“Okay, then Stile’s friend, Scott, kills his father to gain what he believes is justice for his friend’s death. Who is in the wrong?” I gave Peter a disbelieving eye roll.
“Both are wrong, but neither is evil. If Scott did that, he would have made a selfish decision. His father has already made a stupid decision. Scott is selfish because he killed his father to assuage his anger and guilt. He has made his father into an effigy for his feelings. His father was stupid and reckless, putting not only his life, but his lover’s life, in danger. If anything, I abhor selfish decisions, but no one is entirely selfless. Now, I know I am not Saint myself. I am mostly human – I make mistakes and I am selfish, but I try to minimize the impact my selfish desires affect others. This time travel business wasn’t precisely intended. It was more of a mistake, but not I must live with my choices. I am not blameless in all of this.”
“Interesting.” Peter mused, before he and Talia excused themselves.
The Headmistress arrived three days later.
It was an eventful three days. I spent the following three days taking standardized tests to determine my level of function and mental acuity. I had to tap into the memories which I had been supplied with in this new form. While, most people knew me as Faolan Hart, my real name was a mouthful. My real name was Maolsneachta Cian Serafin Kalina-O’Hairt and my parents were Tytus Nikodem Kalina, my father, and Caitria Eimhir Aisling O’Hairt, my mother. Although, my father, Tytus Kalina, was known as the multi-millionaire Tyler Collins and he paid child support, but did little else for me. My mother, Caitria O’Hairt had been known as Catherine Hart. She had been an immigrant from Ireland and Claudia Stilinski nee Hart’s younger, half sister. Catherine had been murdered in her apartment in New York City.
I had shipped off to live with Claudia and Jack Stilinski and my cousin, Stiles. That lasted until my Aunt Claudia’s sickness had worsened under the stress of caring for both Stiles and me. She had been convinced that her son, Stiles was attempting to kill her. She had intended to knock Stiles out with a frying pan when I stepped in the way to protect my younger self. I had ended up in a coma and Claudia had been hospitalized. In the chaos that followed, my cousin, Stiles, had forgotten about me. My Uncle rarely visited. He was far more concerned about his wife than his unconscious nephew. Jack Stilinski had not been able to pay for my care, so my biological father had begun paying for the bare minimum care. Peter Hale had been assigned as my father’s Lawyer’s representative in Beacon Hills to check on my health and that care my father was paying for was followed through upon.
There were many secrets in my family. My mother, Caitria, had been an immortal, half-Elemental Sidhe and Half-Seraphim. She had chosen to pass on her immortality to me. My father, Tytus was from an ancient, Greek family of Olde Magick Practitioners, and while he did not have the gift himself, he had passed it down to me thrice-fold. The combination of my inheritances made me an immortal magic practitioner with certain unique gifts.
The times I was left alone to entertain myself, I began constructing an architectural plan with all the mathematical equations for the new Hale Household. I was bored. I was in the midst of sketching out a kitchen for the Hale family, all modern appliances and big open spaces, when Peter, Talia and the Headmistress Selene du Bois arrived.
I peered up from where I was scribbling some mathematical equations for the house. “Good Afternoon Faolan,” Talia greeted, “Is that our new house?” Talia asked in interest. I nodded and offered her my sketches wordlessly. Peter peered over her shoulder as I turned by attention to the Headmistress.
Selene du Bois was a tall woman with a willowy build and small bust and hips. Her pale-blond-white hair feel loosely to her waist save her braided bangs which were holding her hair back from her face. She had pale-gray-silver eyes framed by long eyelashes and thin, expressive eyebrows. Her skin was smooth and soft, and as pale a moonlight. She wore a dark-gray peacoat over black leggings and a burgundy-red collar blouse. She also wore burgundy-red ballerina flats. As I took in her appearance she was taking in mine.
Selene du Bois immediately noted my wild copper-colored curls. My hair met my shoulders in a somewhat tamed mop of cowlicks, curls and waves. I have heterochromatic eyes – one a whiskey-colored-brown and the other a pale-blue. Both my eyes are flecked with golden specks, framed by long eyelashes and thin, expressive eyebrows. My skin is too pale, from the long period I have spent indoors, making my pale-brown freckles all the more evident. My face is slender, angular and overly effeminate. I have high cheekbones, a straight nose, angular chin and full and soft lips. I am smaller than the typical range of height and weight I should be, but that could be attributed to my coma. I have gained a little wiry muscle from the little exercises I have been given by my physical therapist. I wore a pair of threadbare pajama bottoms, which have arrived with me at the hospital and a loose hospital gown on top.
“Faolan, your father signed your custody over to Hecate Institute and to the Hales.” Selene said with a calculative gleam in her eyes. I shrugged noncommittally. Peter and Talia frowned at the Headmistress. “That being said, I have been outvoted. You will remain in Beacon Hills and receive an education from Hecate Institute on Hale land. I will need to cleanse the Nemeton.” She said.
“Headmistress,” I said carefully, “Just a warning, the Nemeton is a prison for a Nogitsune. Please be careful when you cleanse the tree.”
“You have some personal experiences with this Nogitsune in your original timeline?” She asked.
“It possessed me.” I said, “That occurred before I learned about my heritance and unbound my magic.”
The Headmistress nodded in thought, “What do you suggest I do with it?” She asked.
“The Nogitsune is malevolent spirit, but from what I have gathered it was originally a Kitsune corrupted by humanity. I would suggest that it too be cleansed.” I said, “I would offer it a chance for a new start, if it does not accept it, then we have no choice, but to destroy it.” Selene studied Faolan for several moments before nodding in agreement. “It will need a new form though. The spirit currently possesses the corpse of a war casualty. I suggest molding a form from the elements for it.”
“I am not closely tuned to the elements to do that. Are you suggesting that you are?”
“I am,” I said firmly, “And I am willing to do it, should the Nogitsune agree. Furthermore should it betray us, I can simply unwind its physical form and trap it back in a new cage. Although, I do wish to give it the benefit of the doubt.” I said. Headmistress Selene nodded in agreement.
“So about your living arrangements,” Selene said turning to Peter and Talia, “When you build your new home, can you please attach a guest house with its own kitchen and other necessities. Normally, I would suggest he live in the same building as your family,” Selene said cutting off Talia and Peter’s objections, “However, remember that while Faolan is physically ten years old, he is anything, but a child. You have other children to worry about right now.” Selene said firmly, “Particularly your third oldest child, Derek, I believe was his name?” Talia stiffened angrily, but nodded resolutely.
Peter didn’t look too happy about the arrangement either, but slowly nodded. “Furthermore, Faolan is going to need some measure of isolation to gain control of his abilities once more. I am aware that your Emissary is a Druid, Alan Deaton?” At Peter’s reluctant nod, Selene continued, “He must be made aware that he is to stay away from Faolan until Faolan is at least sixteen years old. My recommendation is to build four guests houses, two on both ends of the property. Allow this Deaton to have his own Guest houses as a laboratory and Faolan the guests house the farthest from Deaton. Assure Deaton that he will remain your Emissary, but Faolan is your ward. Additionally, the Nemeton is no longer under his jurisdiction. It should’ve never been cut down – trimmed and cleansed, but never cut. The honor of tending the Nemeton will be one of Faolan’s chores as our student at Hecate Institute.” She said, “Deaton will know to abide by my words. If he becomes troublesome contact me through Faolan.”
“When should he start school?” Talia asked.
Frowning, Selene turned to Faolan, “Faolan, when can you complete your GED?”
I sighed, “I can begin studying for it next year with some help and if not any help, I can complete it in two.” I replied honestly. Turning to Peter and Talia I said carefully, “I think it would be best if I avoided High School altogether. As a mage, I have eidetic memory and very little focus for sitting long periods of time. I am however, decently intelligent. I can take online classes for college once I complete the tests.”
“What about socializing?” Talia said firmly.
I turned to the Headmistress, “Is it possible to receive funding to learn martial arts and to take language courses?” I asked. “I would be interested in doing both of those… maybe even some music or art.”
“Not in your first year.” Selene said shaking her head.
“I will pay for it.” Talia said firmly and put her hand over my mouth before I could protest, “You’re in my care now.” She said firmly.