Yong was trying really hard not to panic as he realised he was all alone with no way out of the tunnel. He held his lantern close and looked nervously towards the wall of fog ahead of him. It was really the only way he could go, but the idea of stepping into something so unknown was sending chills of terror down his spine. He shifted his feet, glancing down at the ice that was slowly spreading upwards and knew he had to move. So he stepped forwards, drawing one of his new firecrackers from his pocket, one that he could light with a flick of his thumb.
A crackling explosion made him jump and yelp with alarm, halting in place as the fog swirled and lights flickered through it.
'Varian?' he asked, his voice shaking. But as he approached, it quickly became clear that whatever this was, it wasn't Varian or Hugo. He saw... himself? He was sitting in the living room back home, bent over the small table in the centre as he combined various mineral powders into a large glass beaker. He knew he was only four years old; Yong remembered this vividly. He watched himself as he added the incorrect ratio of sulphur to the concoction before picking up a match that had been lying nearby. Without any fear or hesitation, he struck it in his tiny hand and dropped it into the beaker, expecting to see it start to burn a cheery orange. Instead, the flames exploded, shattering the beaker and making Yong fall back, crying with alarm as one of the shards caught in his palm. To make the situation even worse, the flames had started to catch the wooden table, smoke rising into the air.
'Yong!'
His mother was suddenly there, eyes wide with shock as she took in the situation before racing to smother the flames before they could burn the house down.
'I'm sorry!' Yong babbled as his older siblings arrived to help.
'Get him out of here!' his oldest sister, Min snapped and hands grabbed him and carried him outside while the fire was extinguished.
The glass was pulled from Yong's hand and he was bandaged up, but he knew it would leave a scar. It was still visible in the right light sometimes.
'What in the world were you thinking?' his mother thundered as she strode outside, 'Were you trying to kill us all?'
Yong was crying now and his mother's face softened. She crouched before him, caressing his face and wiping his eyes.
'I'm sorry. You just scared me. But you can't play around with black powder like that. It's not safe and you're too young for it.'
'I... just wanted... to make... pretty... fireworks,' Yong sobbed.
'I know, baby,' his mother crooned, 'And you can, just when you're older.'
Yong took a deep breath, looking down and jumping with alarm as he tugged himself free of the ice around him. Then he paused and looked down at his palm where the small scar was still visible, though it had been overtaken by the shiny sheen of burns he'd gathered over the years. Despite his mother's words, he'd ignored her, determined to master black powder and fireworks.
He looked ahead to the fog still lying in wait and took a deep breath. He had to do this for Varian. He'd insisted on coming instead of going home, partly because he was intrigued by this whole Eternal Library thing, but also because he was determined that he could do something right for the first time in his life. He'd always been the disappointment of his family and he was desperate to prove everyone wrong. But this trial seemed to be designed to force him to face that fact of his life that he was so desperate to move away from.
'I can do this,' he said firmly, 'I figured out the fire trial. I've got this!'
He stepped into the fog again, finding another memory of when he was six having more or less figured out the right ratio to make black powder, but now was struggling to turn it into fireworks. He'd constructed a simple rocket, its paper form nothing impressive, but he was proud. He'd made it all by himself and now he'd get to properly test it out. He grinned and lit the fuse, stepping back to watch as the spark disappeared into the base of the rocket. It flared and jumped about a foot into the air before falling back to the ground and promptly exploding, sending red sparks everywhere and catching his shirt on fire. He yelped and patted it out hastily before making sure that the rest of the firework hadn't caught anything else on fire.
Nearby, he could hear laughing and he glanced over to see his brother, Hao, watching him.
'Come on, Yong!' he called, 'When are you gonna learn? It's just not for you!'
Yong shook himself and kept walking. He proven himself so much with Varian and Hugo that his fireworks were helpful and actually worked. Yes, they sometimes malfunctioned, but he had definitely helped. All these failures were just steps that he needed to take in order to succeed. But still, it hurt to see his family refusing to believe in him. This was his passion, his goal! Why couldn't they see that?
He stepped into a new memory, this time on a stage in the centre of the village a line of rockets on either side of him. His family was gathered, even his father who often spent most of his time in the city working. Behind them, a number of their neighbours were also watching as he nervously stepped up.
'Prepare to be amazed!' Yong exclaimed, waving a lit match, 'For Yong's incredible display of mastery over all things fire!'
He lit the fuse connecting all the rockets together and watched with mounting excitement as they began to fly. The first few were a success, filling the sky with brilliant bursts of coloured sparks. But the fourth rocket was where it all fell apart. It failed to launch and instead exploded on the ground, causing the remaining ones to go up in flames. Yong shouted and jumped back, grabbing the bucket of water he'd kept nearby for emergencies as flames started to lick at the wooden stage. People in the audience started shouting and others rushed over to quench the flames, leaving behind a burnt, sodden mess. Yong's face flushed with shame and embarrassment as he looked down at his family, his parents looking disappointed but unsurprised.
'I-I'm sorry,' he mumbled as the adults ushered him off the now ruined stage.
He tried to look up at his father for reassurance, but he couldn't meet his eyes. Instead he muttered, 'I think we should go home.'
Yong's eyes were wet and he was tempted to just stay there and let the ice cover him entirely, but he couldn't give up now. The others were surely waiting for him. And he wasn't going to disappoint anyone else. So when he stepped into the next memory, he realised it was the day he had met Varian, his latest batch of fireworks another bust. The disaster seemed like his biggest yet, almost destroying one of his family's crop fields. Then Varian had shown up and stopped the fire. But more than that, he'd defended Yong without even knowing anything about him. He'd helped him clean up the mess and he'd reassured him that he had what it took to be a great pyrotechnician. It felt like the sun had just come out for the first time in his life. No one had ever believed in him the way Varian had. He understood Yong in a way that he didn't think anyone could. He didn't tell him to stop working on his fireworks, but instead offered him tips and encouragement, even when he failed. In just the short time they'd spent together, Varian had become more a brother to him than his actual siblings. And he was counting on him.
Yong strode into the fog fearlessly now and it finally cleared, releasing him into a large chamber where Hugo was sitting against a door of ice. He looked up as Yong appeared and gave him his signature sardonic smile.
'Took you long enough,' he commented drily.
Yong looked around but there was no sign of Varian. Seeing his confusion, Hugo added, 'Haven't seen Goggles yet. Probably still on his way.'
'Do you know how long it's been?' Yong asked, moving to sit beside Hugo.
He shrugged, looking up at the icy ceiling which was the only real source of light aside from their lanterns. 'Hard to say. Couldn't tell how long I was in the tunnel, but I figure I've been sitting here for maybe twenty minutes?'
Yong nodded, sighing as he settled in to wait.
Varian was rooted in place, not by the ice slowly covering his boots, but at the sight of his own memories replaying around him. He was three and had just gotten into Quirin's room, uncovering his mother's old alchemy supplies hidden under his bed. He'd pulled them out and started playing with them happily, clearly having no idea what they really were. He was having a great time, until the door slammed open and Quirin appeared, staring down at him in shock. His sudden appearance caused Varian to drop the beaker he was holding, the glass shattering on the floor.
'Varian!' Quirin snapped, 'What are you doing with that! Don't touch that!'
Varian flinched back as Quirin swept into the room, scooping him up and depositing him in the hallway before slamming the door. Varian's lip wobbled but he crept closer to the door, listening as his father began cleaning up the broken glass. Then the sounds of his muffled sobs reached him through the thick wood, scaring him even more than when he'd been angry. His dad never cried. Had Varian been that bad when he broke the glass?
When the door finally opened again, Quirin's face was hard, looking down at Varian with a stern glare that made him want to crawl under his blankets and hide.
'You must never play with those things again, understand?' Quirin said coldly.
'But why-?'
'Because I say so,' Quirin cut him off and Varian jumped. His face softened and he crouched to look him in the eye. 'Those things can be very dangerous. I don't want you getting hurt.'
That didn't make much sense to Varian at the time. They had just seemed like they'd be fun to play with. How could they hurt him?
The memory faded and Varian swallowed thickly, knowing now that Quirin hadn't wanted him messing with them because they had once belonged to his mother, some of the few things they had left of her. He started to move but found his legs wouldn't respond and as he looked down he saw them covered in ice. He jumped in alarm and wrenched himself free, heart hammering.
'Gotta keep moving,' he insisted to himself, remembering the words the Galcrestian woman had told him. 'Can't stay still for too long.'
He charged into the fog, breaking into a run. But before he'd gone more than a yard or so, the fog solidified into a wall that he slammed straight into, falling back with a groan.
'Come on!' he demanded, 'Do you want me to keep going or not?'
The only reply was the fog coalescing again and he realised that the point of the Trail of Change was to confront and accept the memories of the past, not avoid them. He'd have to revisit all of them if he wanted to proceed.
This one showed him in one of Corona's libraries on the rare day his father took him into the city. He was five and he'd gathered together a massive collection of books on alchemy and the sciences, their tomes almost too heavy for him to carry back to his selected table. He was engrossed, the librarian amused at the sight of a child reading books written by the greatest minds in the world as if they were fairytales. But Varian didn't care. He absorbed all their words and diagrams like they were water in the desert. He was still young but already he knew he was different to other kids his age. They could make friends with each other in an instant, shrieking with laughter and running about as they played, but Varian had no idea how they did it. Whenever he tried to talk about any of his interests with them, he got blank looks and laughter. When he tried to join in their games, they refused him because he needed clarification on the rules that seemed to constantly change. Even their social cues were a mystery to him, seeming to shift by the second and leaving him utterly baffled. But here, in these books, there were rules about the world that were clearly laid out, consistent regardless of any changing environments. These alchemists broke the world down into its most basic components that explained everything about everything, using these to build the most intricate picture of the world Varian had ever seen. It was like he'd been handed a key to a lock that kept him from understanding his life and now he was finally opening that door.
Except Quirin didn't let him take any of the books home, even after the librarian had assured him it was fine.
'I don't want you messing with that alchemy stuff, understand?' Quirin snapped. But Varian didn't understand at all. Alchemy was the key to his understanding, and Quirin wanted him to stay away from it? How did that make any sense? But whenever he asked why, all he got were even more nonsense answers like, 'Because I said so,' or 'Because it's not important.'
Varian shook himself, noting the fog had returned and quickly hurried on.
He'd managed to buy his first alchemy equipment when he was eight thanks to doing odd jobs around Old Corona that others couldn't be bothered with. He mucked out stables, he cleaned pig troughs, he ploughed fields and planted seeds, all so he could earn enough coin to get his hands on what he needed. Despite Quirin's refusal, he'd kept returning to the library to read about alchemical processes, learning all he could until he felt confident enough to begin conducting his own experiments. And with his new gear, he was ready.
The experiments started small, confirming work previous alchemists had already done, before he started to branch out into his own ideas, testing and experimenting with things no one else had before. He made mistakes but that was all part of the process. But that wasn't enough to convince his dad. When he filled the basement with the very first prototype of his sticky trap that had expanded far more than he'd calculated, Quirin had banned him from alchemy and ordered him to clean the entire space from top to bottom. It had taken him a month, but by the end of it, Varian was sure he'd figured out the problem in his solution and was right back to fixing it.
Varian sighed heavily, shaking the ice free of his legs again. He'd really tried to find ways to help his dad around the farm, working with different chemicals to make the most effective fertilisers, but as the next memory showed, all he'd managed to do was kill their entire crop field, leaving them almost starving that winter. If it hadn't been for the help of their neighbours, they wouldn't have made it to spring.
Then came the day that Rapunzel arrived in Old Corona with her magic hair. Varian was ecstatic, not quite believing that the Princess of Corona had sought him out. Him! The screw up farm kid from Old Corona was now tasked with uncovering the mysteries of her indestructible hair. And more excitedly, Flynn Rider was with her. He couldn't wait to show them everything he'd been working on, including his hot water system beneath the town which he was convinced would be his crowning achievement. Except once again, he'd gotten ahead of himself and his calculations were off. The massive cylinders under Old Corona had ruptured, blasting to the surface and almost destroying the entire town. It was a miracle no one was killed, and Varian could feel himself dying inside at the sight of his father's anger and disappointment at the mess Varian had made.
Then there were the black rocks, those frustratingly enigmatic rocks that had started appearing all over Corona and once again, Rapunzel had come to him, asking him to figure out what they were and how to remove them. He'd taken to the task with gusto, conducting experiment after experiment on them to try to elicit some kind of reaction, but they remained stubbornly unaffected by anything he tried. Until that fateful day in the blizzard when Quirin had interrupted him just as he started to make some kind of progress. They'd argued, Quirin insisting he stay away from them even as Varian tried to defend himself. Then, disaster. That unbreakable amber had sprung from his spilled solution and engulfed the black rock entirely, as well as anything close by, including Quirin. He'd pushed Varian out of the way, trapping himself. And there was nothing Varian could do to free him.
He watched as his past self battled through the blizzard assaulting Corona, reaching the castle despite all odds and begging Rapunzel for help like she promised she would. Only to be refused and dragged away as he screamed and pleaded, thrown out into the snow like trash. And by the time he got home, it was too late. His father was fully encased, leaving Varian alone.
When Varian came back to himself and saw the ice covering his lower body, he yelped and desperately fought his way free, convinced for a moment that it was the amber wrapping around him instead. His heart was hammering and his vision was blurring while he tried to get his breathing under control. Ruddiger wasn't here to help him and he stumbled back into the wall, palming his eyes as he tried to get a hold of himself. But even as he did this, the ice kept creeping back up, causing him to jerk back and start panicking all over again. He had no choice but to keep moving even though he knew what awaited him was only going to get worse.
He thought he'd solved it, figured out how to free his dad. But he needed Rapunzel to do it. He tricked her, betrayed her, and when his plan with the sundrop flower failed, he'd sent Ruddiger to attack Corona so he could kidnap the queen. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the scenes that replayed before him, wishing he could change them but knowing that they were memories and not some messed up play. And he was horrified. He saw the rage and grief on his own face when his plan failed and he turned against Corona. He was shocked to see himself twisted into someone unrecognisable as he activated his automatons and attacked the royal guard and his friends, desperate for them to feel even just a fraction of the pain he held onto. If he didn't get a happy ending, why should anyone else? Especially when they were the ones who had promised to help him and stand by him no matter what?
Varian's own scream of rage still echoed in his head long after the fog cleared and he could barely make himself continue onwards. There were the months rotting away in Corona's dungeons, even after King Frederic had promised to help him. There was Andrew and the Saporians, offering to help if he could bust them out of their cages, and he had. He'd gotten them out, trusting that these people would keep their word to him about making all of Corona forget his actions. Only to go and attempt to completely destroy the entire kingdom that he was so desperate to be accepted by.
But then Rapunzel appeared, her smile seeming to light up the darkness that Varian had been consumed by for over a year. She welcomed him back into the light she seemed to radiate. She forgave him despite the atrocities he committed against her and her entire kingdom. She changed the way everyone in Corona saw him, giving him the chance he'd never gotten before to redeem and prove himself. She'd freed his dad like she's promised she would. She'd helped him navigate his fears when the black rocks turned red. She'd taken him to Demanitus' tomb to recover his journal and gave him everything he'd ever need to create the portal to trap Zhan Tiri away. Granted it hadn't worked out so great, but ultimately it didn't matter after the demon was destroyed for good. She'd given him the role of Royal Engineer, completely changing his life. But more than that, she'd saved it. Varian knew that if she hadn't forgiven him that day in Corona's dungeons, he would have given up long ago.
The memory rehash finally seemed to come to an end as the last of the fog cleared and he stumbled out into a larger chamber where Hugo and Yong were sitting. Yong was on his feet immediately, racing to hug Varian tightly who just stood there, numb.
'Are you okay?' Yong demanded, 'We were so worried! You were in there for so long we thought you'd gotten stuck or something but we couldn't get through from this side. Were your memories- Varian, you're shaking.'
Varian blinked, his heart still racing as Yong tirade came to a halt, now looking up at him with concern. Hugo hadn't moved from his spot on the ground, looking supremely unconcerned but was now watching Varian curiously.
'I just... need a minute,' Varian admitted, quickly moving to the wall to sit against, trying to bring his surging emotions under control. Yong hesitated as if he wasn't sure what to do to help. After a moment, he moved to sit at Varian's side, holding onto his arm as if to remind him that he wasn't alone.
'Was it bad?' Yong asked quietly and Varian flinched as his father's screams and the sights of his friends' horrified faces flashed through his mind. While they were all in the past now and they had turned him into the person he was today, it didn't make them any easier to bear.
'Yeah,' Varian admitted, that single word seeming to carry the weight of his memories like an anvil.
'Why does anyone even come here?' Hugo muttered, 'I don't feel any more enlightened or anything. I feel even worse than I did when we got here!'
'I kinda feel a little better,' Yong admitted, 'I didn't like seeing all my memories of my screw ups but... it also showed me the day I met Varian and how because he believed in me, I made it all the way here!'
That made Varian drag his mind away from his memories to look over at Yong.
'Thanks, Varian!' Yong said, hugging him again and this time Varian hugged him back.
'Y-yeah. No problem.'
And maybe it was just his imagination but Varian did feel a little lighter now. If he could make it through all those horrible things that had happened to him, and come out a better person, the kind of person that was able to inspire others like Yong, then maybe it wasn't all for nothing. Maybe there was something he could learn from those memories. Maybe he could turn that darkness inside himself into something that helped the world, as well as himself.