Teen Wolf: Legacy of the Fox

Author's Note: I haven't watched Teen Wolf past Season 3B yet, so this plot will likely deviate from Season 4 onward. This fic is set presumably after the series has ended and Stiles is in college. Also, Stiles has decided on leaving Beacon Hills, which the first chapter touches on more.

oooOoooOoooOooo

One

Stiles Stilinski knew from the get go it probably wasn't a good idea. He'd had enough of the supernatural in Beacon Hills. That's what had pushed him to seek higher learning elsewhere.

Why then had he chosen to move to New Orleans, a place notorious for the mysterious and supernatural?

Maybe it was because the skeptic in him didn't really believe those things, or maybe he saw himself as casting off on his own- as an independent investigator and hunter of the supernatural.

He had no doubt that he could easily locate mountain ash and wolfsbane in New Orleans. Such things were likely the standard fare of your run of the mill Voodoo supply store.

He couldn't deny it, no. The idea of being a paranormal investigator all on his own had brought him here- the fascination of the thing.

Was the city famous for curses, ghosts, and vampires all it was made out to be? Okay, so maybe not vampires, unless there was some truth to all the vampire novels set in this southern mecca of decedance.

Stiles knew he couldn't resist. He had to find out. It was that which had brought him here to Bourbon Street, amidst the throng of artists, freethinkers, and bar hoppers.

He walked deliberately and carefully down the sidewalk, trying to ignore the sweat coating his fair skin from this city's heat- Louisiana heat that could rival California's.

He was looking, searching for it- a Voodoo store. He thought it would be recognizable by some outward sign. Now he thought otherwise. Were people really this secretive about it?

He really hated the idea of asking someone in this crowd. What if he asked someone who took it the wrong way?

Then he spotted a girl about his age with curly blond hair and fair skin like his own standing next to a nearby street sign. He made his way over, thinking to himself she'd be alright.

"Excuse me," he spoke.

"Oh," the girl said with a little jump. "Hello."

She forced a shy smile, and he smiled in reply.

"I was wondering if you could direct me to a Voodoo store?"

"Oh," she said, her expression becoming guarded. "Well... there's one just up a few blocks."

She pointed ahead.

"You can't miss this one. Its famous. Marie Laveau's."

"Marie Laveau?" Stiles asked with a knowing smirk. "Isn't she famous? Yeah, I read a little about her!"

"I'd rather not say anymore," the girl said oddly, looking down.

Maybe she wasn't very fond of Voodoo. Stiles couldn't blame her, knowing firsthand that the supernatural was real, and it wasn't always pretty.

"Well that's okay," he told her with a wave. "Thanks."

Sure enough, he saw the place just up the block, and it was absolutely swarming with tourists. He liked the design of the place with its elequent Frnech doors thrown wide open, but when he stepped in he was immediately assulted with a strong, unidentifiable incense.

He looked around for someone who worked in the place, but it turns out he needn't have bothered.

"Can I help you young man?"

He jumped and turned his gaze on an older woman wearing the most jewelry and necklaces he'd ever seen on anyone. She was eying him with twinkling dark eyes and a somewhat amused smirk.

"I'm looking for some occult supplies," he replied simply.

"I sense something about ya," she said mysteriously, ignoring his request. "You have a kind of... energy about you."

"Spark?" he supplied tonelessly.

"Yes indeed!" she exclaimed with a wide smile. "That's it exactly! Just where are you coming from, young one?"

He decided the truth couldn't hurt. The woman couldn't know anything about him or his dad.

"Beacon Hills, California."

"Never heard of it," she replied honestly. "California's pretty far. What brings ya to New 'Awlins?"

"I go to UNO, and I'm an investigator of sorts."

"A paranormal investigator," she said knowingly. "I get the idea you're not new to it either."

"'Fraid not," he agreed with a chuckle.

Her eyes twinkled, and he suspected she knew a lot more about him than she let on.

"Well this way," she said, and he followed her through the crowd.

First she showed him the sage, then the various kinds of powdered ash, as well as other barks. Finally, the blue-purplish powder he knew so well... wolfsbane.

"Know what ya want?"

"I'll take some wolfsbane," he said. "Some mountain ash... "

He paused and studied the various displays.

"What does vervain do?"

"Wards off various negative presences," she answered, eying him suspiciously. "Vampires... "

Stiles felt a sense of unease. What if vampires really were real?

"I'll take some of that too, and some sage I guess."

She grabbed the things he indicated and led him behind the check out counter, putting them into a bag and handing it to him.

"What about... "

"You don't need to pay me," she said, stopping him. "Consider it goodwill. Besides, I get the feelin we'll be seein each other again."

"I think you're right," he agreed with a small smile.

oooOoooOoooOooo

Stiles placed the bag in the closet of his small two man dorm on campus. His roommate Devon didn't seem to be back yet.

He wanted to eat, but first he wanted to rest. He settled back against his mattress with an appreciative yawn and began to think.

He wondered how his dad was doing- Scott, even Derek...

He missed them of course, but this was part of growing up. He was out in the world now. High school was behind him.

There was one thing from those years that would never be entirely behind him, but he hardly thought about it now. It was a distant shadow on his mind. Sometimes if he really let himself think about it he felt an inkling of fear.

Instead he thought about where to begin. He still didn't know if New Orleans had any actual supernatural activity. Maybe it was a bunch of hype, but likely it wasn't. It probably at least had a werewolf pack. Derek said most big cities did.

That jolted an idea in his brain. He pulled out his phone and started a text.

Der, do you know about any packs in New Orleans?

He waited after sending it, but Derek might not answer for awhile, and eventually the mild anxiety subsided. The wolf would answer when he wanted to answer.

He dwelled on thoughts of Derek, of Scott- of home in general. He didn't remember when he'd nodded off, or when he'd awoken.

Was he awake? He was in a room that seemed to be entirely mirrors, but not like one of those mirror mazes at a carnival. It was a circular room, and the walls were like actual mirrors, all lined up in a row.

Being met with his reflection from all sides gave him slight unease. He didn't like this. He wanted to get out of here.

Stiles

The voice was whispered, but it wasn't unpleasant like the hiss of the Nogitsune had been. After a few moments he decided it was just the wind.

He eyed his reflection, looking at him from several different directions. He saw his same old self with a somewhat lanky frame, spiked brunette hair, and expressive eyes of amber whiskey.

Stiles

This time it was a little louder.

"Who's there?" he asked, feeling slightly foolish, as though he still thought he was talking to himself.

Oh hero, overcomer of your own inner darkness, crosser of distance- harken to what is within you.

It wasn't a whisper this time. It was a deep, almost musical voice. Was he going crazy?

The spark you still have- overcomer of the dark fox. I will give you my power. Control it, master it- come!

Stiles didn't know why he wasn't afraid, or why he didn't distrust the voice. It simply seemed like it was a good voice.

He did what he felt, closing his eyes and exhaling for breath- he stepped forward with his hands open slightly.

He felt himself levitate off the ground, unless he was imagining it. Felt a burning sensation in his chest, but not unpleasant. More like a fire slowly burning and giving warming heat. Then he felt that warmth expand and grow.

He felt like a power pounded through his every nerve, pulsing with his blood.

His eyes opened, but his reflection shocked him into reality. Staring at him from every side was a young man that looked like him, except for an elongated nose and pointed ears like a fox.

"W-what is this!?"

Be calm, young hero. This power is yours. It will assist you whenever you call on it- whenever you remember your spark.

The room had begun to grow brighter for some reason. Surely it wasn't his imagination. In a few moments it was so bright that a pure whiteness seemed to envelop him. Soon the whiteness was all there was, except for the vague image of mirrors.

He awoke suddenly, his heartbeat erratic with a now fading mental picture of pure bright light. It was now dark, and Devon still wasn't back it seemed.

The first thing he did was go look in the mirror hanging above his dresser. It was just plain Stiles that looked back at him. Could it have only been a dream?

His spark...