Disclaimer: Lazytown belong to Lazytown Inc, and was created by Magnus Scheving. This is a sequel to Trynia Merin's Behind the Crystal. As such, all OC's belong to her.

Behind the Crystal Part Two

A/N: This chapter will be a glimpse at a major point in the lives of Sportacus and at least one other character. Additional: The name 'Johayin' used in this chapter is to be pronounced 'yo HAY in'

Chapter Four

Interlude: A Painful Past

Ithrottaalfurin pushed open the earthen door of the sett that – like all his people – was home to him and his family, which had been pure earth until it was magickally hardened æons ago by one of his ancestors. He threw a sack of clean clothes onto the hard ground, then leapt athletically after it. He wore what was to become his trademark costume, minus the number 10 on his clasp. The lining of all his clothes was threaded with gold and silver; colors he had come to love over the years of his short life.

It was just starting to dawn, and, as he did every morning, Ithro looked up at the towering form of Mount Gaia - the dormant volcano which dwarfed everyone on the Isla De Incendia – and watched the sun rise behind her peak. After some exercise and stretching, during which he watched an airship pass overhead in the glare of the rising sun, he pulled a robe from the sett and made his way to the nearby hot spring to bath and wash the clothes he wore, closing the door quietly behind him

An hour later (after working on his swimming and diving skills), Ithro returned to the sett, wearing the clean clothes from the sack (which looked exactly like the ones he's worn before his bath), and placed the robe and freshly-washed clothes into his wardrobe. Then he climbed back to the surface and ran to the small hut nearby which housed his father's blacksmith business. Unlocking the door, he entered the hut without waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness within, walked to the furnace and lit the forging fire. He had been watching the fire for mere minutes, hypnotized by the dancing and roaring of the growing flames, when he heard a distant voice call out 'Isaac!.' Recognizing the use of his human name, Ithro activated his power to hide the obvious elven attributes inherent in his race. Then he turned to identify the caller…and with sudden haste, whipped off his hat, revealing the rest of his long, dark hair, and blushed deeply as he stood before the increasingly hot furnace.

Approaching the hut, her long, golden hair shining brightly in the morning light, was a girl Ithro had known almost as long as his ears were pointed.

'Hi, Isaac', the girl said in greeting as she got closer. She wore a New York Knicks t-shirt with the name and number of her favorite player on the back, a pair of white, knee-length shorts and plain sandals. Her waist-length hair was plaited into a ponytail at her back. 'How are you today?' she asked politely.

Finding his voice fast, Ithro stuttered, just as politely 'I - I'm, uh, fine th-thanks, Chelle' using the short form of the girl's name, Rochelle. She and her family – Parents, Michael and Elizabeth Rothen, and her younger brother Robert – had a holiday home in one of the nearby towns, which they used seven times a year – family birthdays, summer and winter solstice, and Christmas. Ithro had developed a friendship with the Rothen's over the years, particularly Chelle, with whom he related better than anyone, and could often be seen playing with her and her brother when they visited. 'Uh, what brings you to my father's workshop at so early an hour?' Ithro continued, curiosity overcoming his other emotions.

'Well, my folks are taking us all out for a picnic later for my fourteenth birthday, and as your celebrating your 14th today as well, I wondered…' Chelle seemed to struggle with her unfinished question, becoming suddenly coy, almost visibly nervous. After a few, seemingly infinite – from her point of view – seconds, she gave a heavy, self-encouraging sigh, and continued 'Well…I wondered if you, um, would like to-to join me? US! Join, um, us? On our picnic.' she corrected anxiously

'Of course, I'd love to!' Ithro replied, excited at the prospect of spending his birthday with other people for a change, instead of on his own like he usually did. 'What time is it?'

'We leave at nine, and the picnic itself starts at eleven' Chelle replied. Then she skipped off, calling excitedly as she went 'meet at my place!' With that, she was gone, leaving a happy Ithro to wake his Father in time for work.

At five minutes to nine, Ilthro stood on the Rothen's doorstep, holding some home-made chocolate-chip cookies, which Rochelle had said were the best that her and her family had ever tasted. He enforced the pseudo-image that he'd worn earlier, before knocking on the door.

When the door opened a minute later, Ithro found himself face-to-face with a completely different Chelle. She had ditched the clothes she'd worn earlier, in favor of a sea-blue, off-the shoulder top with gold and silver sequins, a matching, above the knee skirt with the sequins in the hem, and a pair of silver, high-heeled sandals. She also wore a pair of golden, jeweled earrings (she had gotten her ears pierced as an early birthday present, before her parents had brought them for her annual birthday holiday), and her hair now hung loose and curled at her waist. Chelle watched Ithro seeming to look her up and down for a full minute before realizing that he was checking out her clothes.

'Oh. These were a birthday gift from my parents. I thought I would break them in' she informed Ithro, mistaking his dumfounded stare for one of surprised curiosity.

'Um, you look very…pretty' Ithro replied weakly. If he hadn't already fallen for her personality, Ithro would have found himself drawn unavoidably by her enhanced figure, from which – despite himself – he now struggled to tear his eyes.

'Good morning, Isaac!' Chelle's father called as the rest of her family appeared behind her, offering their own waves or nods of greeting. 'Right, is everyone ready?' More nods, this time of confirmation from Ithro and Chelle, who leaned behind the doors and returned with a hiking pack. 'Let's go then' Michael finished, mirroring his daughter to produce a large wicker basket packed with picnic goodies. Elizabeth went behind the door herself and produced a second pack filled with Chelle's birthday presents. Ilthro and Chelle hooked their arms together as she stepped out of the house, and led the way to the park.

Ithro and Rochelle sat cross-legged on the grass, watching the game of Frisbee that rob and his parents had just started nearby. Chelle had already shown Ithro the presents from the second pack – which including two expensive neckchains, one with her first name, and the other with two 'R's set in a mirror effect – so while they watched, they talked.

'So, what's it like in New York?' Ithro asked.

'You mean you've never been to America!' Chelle asked, shocked.

'I've never traveled off this island' Ithro replied. 'Never had a reason'

'You've no idea what you're missing!' Chelle exclaimed, skin glowing as she warmed to the subject. 'New York is great! There's the New York Knicks – only the greatest team on the planet – and video arcades, and late night movie theaters that show the best movies, and shopping malls filled with the best shops, and…and…'

'Whoa!' Ithro interrupted. 'Slow down, will you. I can't keep up.'

Chelle chuckled quietly. 'Sorry' she said. 'I tend to babble when I'm nervous'

'Why would you be nervous?' Ithro asked with genuine curiosity.

Chelle looked up. Her ocean blue eyes, openly betraying her cool exterior with the fear and anxiety she was feeling, drilled passionately into Itrho's cool sky blues, and Ithro felt himself being drawn into hers. 'Because of this', Chelle replied softly as she leaned in towards Ithro, tilting her head slightly as the glow around her seemed to change – intensify - before Ithro's closing eyes as he mirrored her, leaning his own head to his right. Their lips met in mid-air, and before they knew what was happening, they kissed.

The kiss seemed to last…forever. But only minutes later, they reluctantly parted lips. Ithro managed to focus enough to re-enforce his pseudo-image - which had slipped in the heat of the moment – before Chelle opened her eyes. Chelle was positively radiating, and Ithro now had a glow of his own to rival hers.

They sat in silence, with barely contained joy, reeling from the thrill of loves first kiss. After what seemed like ages, Chelle turned back to Ithro, avoiding eye contact lest they fall back to kissing, and said 'I think I'm gonna go for a swim. Care to join me?' she asked, jumping to her feet. 'I've got a spare swim suit in the bag'

'Uh, no thanks' Ithro replied climbing to his own feet. 'I think I'm gonna join in the game', he finished, pointing vaguely in the direction of the Frisbee game still taking place nearby.

'Suit yourself, Isaac Manwell' Chelle said. She kicked off her sandals, picked them up with her pack, and ran to the park toilets to change. Ithro ran in the opposite direction, catching the Frisbee as he went and tossing it gently to Rob (who after all, was only six). When next he caught it, he looked up in time to see Chelle returning from the toilets, dressed in a dark blue all-in-one swimsuit, the decorative sequins replaced by hundreds of small, printed gold and silver dots, and head towards the islands surrounding ocean (being part of a coastal town, the park had steps leading down onto the beach).

As he caught the Frisbee ten minutes later, Ithro looked out to the ocean to check on Chelle…and his arm froze mid-air. He couldn't see her anywhere in the water. Then her gold-crowned head broke the surface, a small dot on the horizon as she struggled to stay afloat, before sinking back down to the depths of the ocean. 'Rochelle's in trouble!' he called as he ran onto the beach and towards the oceans edge. He could hear the airship he'd seen earlier approaching quickly in the distance, and knew that the superhero pilot was answering the call for help that must surely have come from Chelle in the few moments when her head periodically appeared above the water.

Ithro was just about to dive into the water to try and rescue Chelle, guided by his emotions, when the Islands resident hero, Captain Nimrod, landed beside him, Throwing out an arm to stop him.

'We have to save her, Nimrod!' Ithro cried fearfully, eyes silently pleading with his idol.

'Do not let your emotions guide you, Ithro' the captain gently scolded. 'Your friend and love is caught in a severe riptide. If you or I were to try and save her, we would lose not only her life, but ours too, and our efforts would have been in vain.'

'But...'

'It's unfortunate', Nimrod continued 'but there is nothing we can do to help her'. As he spoke, Chelle's head appeared once more on the horizon, then sank again.

Ithro watched for her to re-surface, filled with guilt and pain and the overwhelming need to dive in and save her, regardless of the consequences. But she never came back up.

As soon as the riptide died, the captain dived in, carrying the mutual but vain hope that Chelle was still alive under the water. He searched as much of the ocean as he could, but when an hour passed with no result, they were all forced to assume that she had been swept away to sea, and was most likely dead as a result. Ithro wanted to scream. He wanted to cry out and curse the gods for taking her away so soon after their first kiss. But he knew that the Rothen's were suffering the greater loss of a loving daughter and caring sister. So for their sake, he swallowed his pain and anger, and went to the grieving family around him to provide friendly comfort and support. He would have time to cry for his own loss later, when he could lock himself away in his room and hide under the covers.

Hours later, Ithro finally slid down into his sett, hoping to go straight to his room, and landed before his parents – his Mother, Merin, and Father, Johayin – who had been waiting for him to return. 'We need to talk' Johayin said, and both he and Merin signaled for him to follow, unusually stern, then turned and led the way to the main study. Ithro followed cautiously, worried by the seriousness etched on his parents wizened features, then waited a safe distance away when they stopped at the wooden table in the centre of the room.

'Is it true, what we've heard, Ithrottaalfurin. That you have fallen in love with a human? Johayin asked after a brief pause. With that question, all the rules Ithro's parents had forced onto him came rushing back, and he suddenly felt rebellious. 'Yes', he replied confidently. 'And…?'

'I knew we should never have let him socialize with humans for pleasure' Merin said quietly to her husband.

Johayin raised a hand to hush her. ' How many times have we told you that you cannot form a relationship with humans, son?' he asked, turning back to Ithro. 'You know that elves can live for centuries, even millennia, while human lives are short and fleeting.'

'I can't help the way I feel!' Ithro replied, appalled by his parents behavior. 'For all my powers, I can't control love. No-one can. Love can strike you when you least expect it and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it.'

'Well, it's such a shame things turned out this way' said Merin. 'It makes it all the harder to handle this.' Johayin held out the letter he'd been hiding, which he'd unrolled while Ithro had been with the Rothen's, comforting them. Ithro took the letter and read:

Dear Ithrottaalfurin,

You have been under our observation for some time, while we determined if you have what it takes to join our ranks. Your action on a number of occasions, and your reported determination to risk your own life on this day for that of another, have led us to believe that you have the natural drive and instinct to help and protect the people around you, both friend and stranger.

Therefore, we hereby cordially invite you to attend the renowned Heroes Academy, and begin your training to serve as an active hero on a worldwide scale, helping those in need

We look forward to receiving your reply.

Captain Nimrod and the Heroes Association

Ithro re-read the letter several times over with increasing excitement, then asked 'Is this for real?'

'Of course it's for real!' his parents replied, gaping with increasing ire. 'Your not seriously thinking of accepting, are you?' asked Merin.

'Of course I am' Ithro answered, shocked that his mother would ask such a question. 'How could I not? This is everything I've ever dreamed of.'

'But the blacksmiths' Johayin exclaimed. 'You've been training so hard to succeed me.'

'Because you almost never let me live my own life' Ithro returned. 'I was lucky to be allowed time with the Rothen's, and I had to work hard just to get that much.'

'The Heroes Association has caused our family nothing but trouble' Merin reminded him.

'No, Mother. They've caused you nothing but trouble' Ithro corrected her. 'Look, you clearly have some kind of vendetta against the H.A., which started before I was even born. Whatever it is you have against them, the problems are your's, not mine.'

'How dare you?' Johayin seethed.

'Father, when you were my age, you would totally have accepting this invitiation without a seconds thought.' Ithro commented

'No I wouldn't, son, because I'm no hero' Johayin countered.

'Yes, you are, Father' Ithro responded. 'I've seen you, in the hut, every time you hear someone scream, or call for help, you tense up in preparation for a daring rescue.'

'You can't do this' Johayin said, quietly angry, and Merin nodded agreement.

'Let me tell you what I did today' Ithro raged. 'I spend the last three hours at the Rothen's house, comforting them and helping them to pack, while wishing I could break down and cry myself, after we watched my girlfriend drown and disappear in the ocean out west, all just minutes after we shared our first kiss! So don't tell me what I can't do!'

Silence followed this earnest speech. But instead of the desired effect of inspiring defeat, the mention of the kiss only enraged his parents beyond breaking point.

'YOU WILL PROMISE NOT TO ACCEPT THIS INVITATION TO JOIN THE HEROES ACADEMY!' Johayin shouted, angrily storming away from the table and pushing his face right up into his sons.

The sudden outburst and rash movement rocked Ithro to the core, but he stood his ground, coolly kept his eyes locked onto his fathers grass green ones the whole time. They stood and stared seething at each other, both too stubborn to back down. But Ithro, being the more sensible of the two men, discreetly slipped his hands into his pockets, crossed his fingers and, with forced composure, said 'Fine. I promise.'

Then his parents stood straight - Merin with her hands clasped before her, and Johayin with his behind his back – which Ithro took to be an indication that he could leave. He walked quickly out of the study, and when he was sure that no reproach was forthcoming, he ran the rest of the way to his room. Once there, he locked his door, changed into his night-clothes (a pair of gold pyjamas), and dived under the covers of his bed, planting his face into his pillow to finally release the tears that had been threatening to pour forth since the argument with his parents had begun.

Late that night, with his parents fast asleep, Ithrottaalfurin had snuck out of the sett wearing a darker set of clothes than usual to avoid being noticed by any night-time strollers, and stood before one of the many mail launchers the H.A. had placed all over the island, which was just outside the town where the Rothen's were staying. He took a clear, plastic tube from Chelle's hiking pack – which her parents had given to him as a reminder, and a gift for being the only person on the island to have befriended her and Robert when they first came to the island (In fact, even to the end, Ithro was the only friend Chelle had on the island) – inside which was a letter of acceptance containing instructions for the Heroes association not to write back, as he didn't want his parents knowing he'd accepted, and to pick him up from town early in the morning, so that he could leave without their knowledge. Dropping the tube into the launcher, he pulled and released the lever to launch it, then watched as it flew quickly to Nimrods airship, high up in the clouds. Then he turned and entered the town, pulling out an enveloped letter addressed to the Rothen's offering final heartfelt consolations for their loss, and explaining that he was going away and may not be coming back. He considered waking them and handing the letter to them personally, but decided that they would need all the sleep they could get – especially young Rob – before they flew home the next day to arrange Rochelle's memorial service (with no body, they couldn't give her the cremation she so desired in life). So instead he posted it through the door and walked quietly back to the sett to change and return to bed before his parents had time to notice he had left.

He would spend all the next day working in the hut with his father, explaining the Rothen's return to New York, to avoid raising his parents suspicion, and the next night while they slept, packing his bags in preparation for the twelve hour flight to the academy the following morning (he'd found the instructions when he'd carefully reread the letter the night of the accident, saying that he would be picked up the day after they received his acceptance, which Nimrod left the next morning to deliver).

Two days after the accident, Ithro looked out of the window of the passenger airship that had picked him up shortly before dawn, as it made its final approach to the large, white-walled academy castle. Nearly seven hours into the flight, Ithro had received air mail from his parents saying that they had discovered his betrayal, and would no longer be welcomed into the sett, which anyway had been made invisible to him.

As he disembarked with the other new students (human and elf alike), the academy's great oak doors slowly opened, and a man wearing full length golden robes, his hood lowered, walked out through them with his arms held wide in an encompassing welcome gesture. Following him similarly dressed in white robes, was Captain Nimrod, who had requested permission to remain at the academy so that he could personally oversee Ithro's training.

Ensuring he had everyone's undivided attention, the golden-robed man enhanced his voice, and called out 'Welcome. As my golden robes – hopefully – signify, I am the principle here at the academy. My name is Shoka, and by now I expect some of you – especially the elves among you – will have recognized that I am a Halfling: the result of an elf forming relations with a human. Now, I am not a huge fan of long, first-day welcome lectures, and I'm sure none of you wish to stand through one, so I'll simply say; Welcome to the Heroes Academy!…'

'…Welcome to the Heroes Academy!' came Shoka's voice through the holo-image, as he turned and led the students into the castle atrium, raising his hood as he went. Then Sportacus' crystal dimmed, and the image faded.

Gretchen asked the first question that came to mind, which happened to be 'What happened to the Rothen's?'

'I don't know' Sportacus answered. 'After they flew back to New York, I never saw or heard from them again. I wouldn't even know what they looked like today.'

'But you never found Rochelle's body' Gretchen realized. 'Surely that means there's a chance she survived?'

'I doubt it. Our oceans could get pretty ferocious at the best of times. Even a swimmer as strong as Rochelle wouldn't be able to survive that' Sportacus informed her.

Gretchen opened her mouth to speak, then realized that she was out of questions. So instead, she headed to the back of the ship to do some exercises, mulling over the puzzle that the name Rothen sounded awfully familiar, but she couldn't place it.

Meanwhile, in his underground lair, Robbie sat in his orange armchair – having been released from jail on probation - looking at a picture framed in a gold-plated, wooden frame he'd received for his seventh birthday. The subject of the picture was a young girl, around fourteen years old, wearing a sea blue, off-the-shoulder top, decorated with gold and silver sequins, and a pair of gold jeweled earrings partially hidden beneath her golden, curled hair. You died doing what you loved, Rochelle – Staying fit and active. He thought. So in fear, I took the one path you tried so hard to keep me from. I became lazy, sluggish and greedy. But still I always think of you, and miss you like I'd miss my own heart, such as it is. With his prayers completed, Robbie replaced the picture on its stand, turned over in the chair, and drifted off to sleep, a rare tear springing unbidden from his eye.

That's the interlude finished. I hope to bring a few more interludes into the story, and bring it full circle. Here's hoping. Next chapter in progress