crystallicsky

Title: Mystic Roots
Pairing: Chase Young x Jack Spicer
Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters. I make no money from the writing of this fiction, nor do I attempt to.
Warnings: Language, homosexuality, some violence/gore later on, etc.

Chase took a walk down Memory Lane.

Several lanes, actually; each floor in his mountain palace held a gallery from a time and place he had particularly wanted to remember. Currently, he was walking the long hall that held the mementos he'd taken from his participation in the Sack of Rome. Though his golden dragon eyes took in the old and bloodied weapons, the antique Roman decorations, the preserved head on a pike, his mind was definitely centered in a more modern time and place.

Spicer had made a tremendous amount of progress in the three - nearly four - months since he'd asked the Heylin Tai Chi master to be his teacher. After conquering Spicer's tendency towards laziness and procrastination, Jack had begun learning and improving at a swift rate. He'd even mastered using his magic against moving targets after Chase had assigned his warriors to work with Spicer.

Chase left the Sack of Rome and continued on to the central courtyard. He was no longer in the mood for lingering in ancient history; not when he had such new and fantastic memories of Spicer's most recent accomplishments. Only last week, the fourth-blood had defeated the Xiaolin Monks using his new skills. He'd turned them around and around with illusions of himself, and then, as the finale, had tricked them into following a Jack-illusion over the edge of a cliff that Spicer had disguised as solid ground. Only Pedrosa's wind powers and Dojo's quick action had saved the four monks from being splattered into thousands of messy pieces.

The dragonlord grinned smugly as he remembered the feral anger darkening the monks' faces while they glared hatred at Jack for besting them.

Speak of the devil... Jack walked up to him, smiling brightly, his crimson eyes almost glowing with contentment and confidence.

"Hi, Chase," his student practically chirped in happiness, raising his hand in greeting.

Chase smiled. "Nice try, Spicer." Bending down, he reached his hand directly through Jack's groin and curved his hand to Diol's skull; fondled the black jaguar's ears in a firm caress as the illusion of the albino man melted away. He smirked at the empty air beside him. "Your fairy tricks do not work on me, fourth-blood."

The seemingly empty space beside the warlord melted away, as well, revealing the true Jack standing there with arms crossed over his chest and a dismayed expression on his face. "Am I that obvious?" he inquired, obviously disappointed.

Chase straightened up to face Jack fully. "To other people...? No. Actually, the only reason I can tell the difference is because I am familiar with the feel of your magic in use. As you have been learning what it feels like to access that magic, I have been learning what it feels like when you have accessed it. It is your ID, if you will; the particular sense of your magic. Should anyone attempt to pretend to be you, they will fail because of that one little qualifier. So, yes, I know when you are using your magic and it does not fool me. Ignoring that, you are quite the skilled illusionist."

Jack smiled. "You really think so?"

Chase nodded. "Of course! I am very pleased with your progress, Spicer. You have a natural aptitude for learning and, in this particular matter, you are taking to your heritage as easily and naturally as a fish learns to swim. You very likely would have surpassed your half-blood father even if he had bothered to train himself to use his magic."

Jack's grin broadened, though it took on a mildly sheepish quality. "Well..." he said, "I am learning from the best!"

The dragonlord made an amused sound. He reached out; patted Spicer's back a couple of times, careful to not strike too hard lest the delicate white skin be unbearably bruised.

"Do not be so modest, Jack," he said with a smirk. "It does not suit you at all. Be proud of what you have accomplished; you have much to be proud of!"

At that, the genius seemed oddly perplexed. "I do?" he questioned.

"Of course you do. You may be one of the only ones in the world to possess such a small fraction of fae-blood and still retain the ability to use it so well, and you learned from a non-fae teacher. I could instruct you only in the very basics of magic as mine is quite different from yours. In terms of specific techniques, I could give you nothing, and yet you improvised your own methods and mastered yourself beautifully. If you cannot be proud of such a feat, you might as well join the ever 'modest' Xiaolin."

Jack immediately snorted in derision. "Alright," he conceded, "I'm totally awesome. Anything to keep me from going Good!" It was clear from the sarcasm in his voice that doing such was the last thing on his mind.

Chase regarded his student intently. "In fact…hm. Spicer, I am very pleased with you and all that you have learned in my keeping. It is obvious that, not knowing of your hidden ancestry, I had grievously underestimated your potential. All that said… how would you feel about staying on with me even though you've learned all that I have to teach you?"

Everything in Jack's being froze utterly. His innermost hopes, which had long been suppressed to avoid disappointment, sky-rocketed and he couldn't stop the next words that escaped his lips. "What, like...y-you mean like a...minion...?"

The dragonlord shook his head. "I was thinking more along the lines of being my apprentice."

There were a few seconds that were pure shock. Then, "Oh, my god, really?! That's awesome! Yes! Yes, of course, I'd love to be your apprentice, holy crap! This is...this is..." A squeal escaped the practically-bouncing youth, and should his smile have been any wider, it would've doubtlessly torn something.

The Heylin sorcerer chuckled. "You are far too easy to please, Spicer. As for myself, I would like to get some sparring done before dinner." He snapped his fingers at the jaguar warrior waiting beside him. "Come, Diol." He began walking away, but glanced back over his shoulder. "I shall see you in the dining hall later... my apprentice."

Jack's ecstatic grin remained and he nodded, watching the retreating figure of his master (master!) as he left.

The goth was unbearably happy with the new development as he turned and trotted off to his room. He had to get ready for his first dinner as the official apprentice to Chase Young, he thought to himself, on Cloud 9.

There was nothing that could've prepared him for the chloroform rag that was pressed against his mouth and nose from behind, knocking him out cold and allowing the perpetrator to drag his limp body wherever they saw fit.