Kingdoms (updated), a disney fanfic

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Kingdoms

Original story by David Sirmons

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, rewritten, used, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior permission of the writer or publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Table of Contents

Part One – The Gathering

Part Two – Edge Of the World

Part Three – Maelstrom

Part Four – The Chasm

Part Five – Heart of Evil

Part Six – Ascension

Part One

The Gathering

Once upon a time.

In the far-away land of my childhood, those words were a gateway to wonderful adventures, to moments of joy and light and happiness. All too soon the endless possibilities of each story gave way, the passing years settling more into my aching bones as I long for a moment's peace. And in the night, when my eyes are shut, I hear his majesty's voice, naming me, waking me from rest, asking me to stand by his side yet again.

"Noble one," he calls. Still I keep my eyes closed. Perhaps he'll just allow me to sleep.

"Noble one!" he insists. "It is time."

The urgency in his words cannot remain unanswered, and I cannot remain in sleep.

"Time, my lord? Has all the world aligned itself at last for this one hope?"

"Gather them together. Bring them to me. In this, you must not fail."

His words strike cold over my heart, deeper cold than the pale wisps of snow shrieking past my windows, burying my pauper's home beneath an endless sea of white. Resigned, I rise from my bed and wrap my warmest clothes about me. One last look out over the drifting snowbanks, bringing one final moment of peace into my soul for the journey ahead. So many years have passed. So many years, searching for my friend. You're gone from me, but not forgotten. I'll find you, my friend. I promise.

"Quickly, Noble One. Bring them together. There is so little time left. So little time...

...for us all."

Midnight. It always seems to happen at midnight. The last three nights in fact, a strange flash o' light burstin' out the old crone's hovel. No sound, no shakin' the earth. Just a ball o' light like the sun. Wouldn't ee'n have seen it the first night, if not for muh trek down to the lake, fetchin' water for lil' Hamish's fever. Old crone. She's up to no good, I swear it. Swear it? I can smell it, at least something more'n these cold wet stones hidin' me. Not smart bein' out in the night this way. Got me bow and arrows, tho'. Would take a dull wit to bother me while I got. . . wait. . .somethin's. . . there it is. That blindin' flash.

Then. . . nothin'. Only silence. Muh eyes. . . just see spots, curse it all. There's. . . her door's openin'! Well that's new. A hooded figur', runnin' out in the night. Where'r you goin' in that dark cape? Can't be the old crone; movin' too fast. Movin' like lightnin' actually. And not a sound. Must be the witch's servant. Where are you off to in such a. . . bleedin' sakes alive! They disappeared! Quiet your mind, girl. Listen. Listen. . . the door. It's openin' again. The old witch! There can't be any good with. . . gah! She looked right at me. Hold your breath, now. . . hold. Can't take a chance with that old magic. Get an arrow ready. . . not a sound. Take your time. . . nice and slow. Just. . . peek. . . up over. . .this rock. The old hovel. The door's open. But where's the witch? Nothin'. Not a trace. Not a sound.

"Merida."

"Gah! Stay. . . stay back, old witch!" Draw that arrow ready, girl! Keep it right on her.

"I told you before, Merida, I'm not a witch."

"All you done, and still squawkin' how you're so harmless? Turned me mother into a bear! Been showin' up here night after night, and now got a disappearin' lackey at your foot."

"You mean. . . you knew I was here? Child I. . . why didn't you just come say hello? It would have saved me. . . saved us. . . so much time."

"I'll never set foot in your home again, old witch. I promise you that!" Wait. Behind me. Somethin' crackles the air. Something powerful. Somethin' burnin'!

"She told you before, Merida. She's not a witch. Lower your bow."

Curses! It's the disappearin' servant. A girl, sounds like. Has a dead-drop on me, for sure. Whatever it is she's pointin' at me. . . never felt anythin' like it. Not much choice. "I'm goin' a set down muh bow, so don't get twitchy with that demon weapon yur holdin'." Strange how brighter the world is in muh eyes this moment, the green grass all but hidin' my bow, but I got no other way. "There, hooded fiend. I'm playin' along. Now point that flamin' thing somewhere else." This is exactly what the old witch was . . . wait. Her eyes. So much concern in her eyes. . . but not for her hooded friend.

Rather, it's. . . it's for me. "What is this, old woman? Why are you here? And who's your shadowed servant?" Got to take the risk. Turn around slow. . . nice and slow. Look into the girl's eyes. . . and. . . Jove almighty! The weapon glows like the sun! "What evil do ya bring to muh land, old witch? Spare muh poor life! Spare us all!"

"That is exactly our intent, Merida," the girl declares, pullin' back her hood. And past muh fear, I'm stunned to see a head o' hair like mine, red as fire, but long and flowin' as the sea itself. And her voice. . . enchantin', like a song, calmin' me, bringin' me to peace.

"There is nothing to fear from the Noble One, Merida, and nothing to fear from me. I am Ariel, daughter of King Triton; the lord of the seas and master of the wind, and we are here for one purpose alone: to beg your help in this, the darkest of hours."

III

Again a voice, a woman's voice, calling me. Behind my eyes, I first believe it a dream, perhaps my beloved Belle, calling my name. The grand opulence of our room fills my sight as I waken, hearing the voice yet again. "Adam," it beckons, drawing me from sleep. With the greatest care not to disturb her rest, I rise from the bed, allowing my wife the bliss of slumber, and follow the calling voice out of our chamber into the great hall.

My heart is seized at what I see, a wrought arch, framed over a gleaming, living flame at the floor center. Blades of searing light shine out across every wall, every stone, driving away all wisps of shadow. And in my heart, my soul, I know the one that has brought this most dread visitation upon me. It is the Enchantress, the clever spirit who, years before, tested my nature, and found me wanting.

"Why are you here, old spirit? What wrong have I done to bring you again to my home?"

"Not your life, young prince, nor hers, but the lives of all stand in the balance."

"Again you speak in riddles, Enchantress. Be gone from this place. Leave us in peace." Too bright, the light of this sorceress. Impossible to look straight upon her.

"You were chosen. All gathered. . . they were chosen; in their land. . . in their time."

"Adam, who is that speaking? What is that terrible light?"

"Belle! Stay behind me." Cursed old spirit. "What more could you take from me, than the years I lived as a beast in this place? What more must I give to save myself from you?"

"Not from me, young soul. And not you alone. You. . . and the love that freed you. . . must both stand together, for the sake of all."

"You. . . you ask. . . you ask for Belle? Your price cannot be paid! Never! I will die a thousand deaths to keep you from. . ."

"Adam, no! No. . . I. . . I don't feel a threat from. . . from the Enchantress."

"Belle! Stop! Don't go near. . ." Too late. I praise your courage, wife, tho still; I fear this.

"Old spirit, have mercy on my husband. Tell us what you want from us."

"Belle. . . wait! . . ." Why does the Enchantress reach out to her? To us both? My Belle is resolved to this, and steps forward. How can I do any less? Fighting my fear into the darkest corners of my heart, I stand with her, and take my love's hand, her fathomless dark eyes the only gird beneath my soul. Taking the Enchantress' hand, the eldritch forces that writhe about her form flow over us, and should my life in the next moment end, I am joyful in one thing alone; that I should find that end at my beloved's side.

Another chime, the final one, carries midnight over the still kingdom. And with another breath, sleep draws near. To rest, to sleep. . . falling into peace. But there is light. Perhaps moonlight, full and bright in my room. Daring the tiniest glance awakens me with a fright. At the foot of my bed a figure sits, covered in a sky-blue cloak and hood lit bright as the new moon. And beyond them, a great glowing arch, burning the very wind. But I recognize the stranger. I recognize. . . her. "Fairy Godmother?"

"Hello, dear child. It hasn't been as long as I might have wished."

Why won't she face me? "Why are you here? Is everything alright?" Again she sighs. Poor old soul. Why does she seem so weary? I can't bear her not facing me. Then I'll face her; kneel in respect before her. "Fairy Godmother? What is it? Why have you returned?"

"Oh, child. I hoped to never have to visit you again. I hoped to leave you and your love to the life you so sweetly deserve."

Why is her face so careworn? Something is wrong. "Fairy Godmother, please tell me." There. . . from her eyes. Glowing tears, like crystals. "It's something dreadful, isn't it?" She only nods to me, her brave smile covering a dire secret.

"Cinderella. . . little cinder soot." Her gentle hand reaches out, caressing my face soft and warm as the sun. "Do you trust me, child?"

This frightens me. Her nature was bright and joyful when I knew her before. But a shadow has fallen over her; something dreadful. "In all things, Fairy Godmother."

"Then you must come with me. There is little time."

Her words are so guarded. I sense so much more behind them. When last I saw her, glorious magic freed me from my prison. She wouldn't return if not for the gravest of reasons; I'm sure of it. "But what of my husband, when he wakes?" Her glowing hand reaches out to me, asking me in silence to join her beneath the arch. "What will I tell him of this?"

"Dear child, if we succeed, he'll never even know you were gone."

The night wind whispers through the tops of old pines; whispers my name, calling me. A chill covers over the earth, racing through deep forests, with the churning rivers, rushing over dead leaves, the ancient mountains and stone canyons, falling upon all the land. And carried with it, her voice. . . her voice calls to me.

Only silence in our village, the deep of night bringing every eye to sleep. Stealing away under the shadows, the wind is my ally, carrying me swift and sure over burbling brooks and roaring waterfalls, deep through the woods to the clearing; bringing me straight and true as an arrow to the one who will see. The one who will tell.

"Grandmother Willow?" Her etched face turns to me, her eyes pondering, seeming locked in concerns beyond the coming winter.

"Ah, Pocahontas. There you are. Step closer; let me see you."

A moonbeam shines through the trees, and I move forward, the tiny warmth of even the faintest light a welcome gift. "So much worry in your voice, Grandmother." Seen by her, I cannot hide my woes of recent days.

"Oh, goodness. That face! I'd have thought you were Kocoum, for all the burdens I see."

"Forgive me, Grandmother. It's. . . John has. . . has returned to his homeland, and my heart wants to be there, with him."

"Not to worry for that, dear one. You'll be with the one you love. . . in time."

Her words are always wise and knowing. It is at least a small comfort. I hope she cannot see the well of my sorrow. I hope she has not seen me fall under the ashes of my grief. "Grandmother, I heard you calling me." Why does she look away, to the west?

"Child, there is a great shadow, rising over all the world. The old spirits are gathering. Some. . . gather into the darkness, and some. . . into the light."

"For what purpose, Grandmother? What do you see?" Never has she seemed so distant, her eyes shut, trying with all her might to lift the shroud over her sight.

"It. . . is beyond me. But it is a great and terrible thing that must be faced. Faced by all who are chosen. Faced. . . by you, Pocahontas."

"Me? What power do I have? I have no magic. I am no great warrior."

"No, little one. But your spirit is greatly needed in what lies ahead for us all. Wait!. . . Yes. The traveler is here."

A blinding flash fills my eyes, and a great burning arch appears beside her. My heart. Be strong, my heart. A shriveled old woman achingly steps from the arch, and spying Grandmother Willow, offers a gentle smile. "Hello, Old Tree."

"Noble One. The Traveler. I've awaited your arrival these many long years." Grandmother Willow's eyes fix upon me. Courage. Courage, for this. "Pocahontas, you must go with her, now. Go, and make your stand with all of life."

Dare I trust this old woman? Her eyes tell me she bears no threat. Her hand is old, weathered and tired, strong from a life of toil and woe. Together we step under the arch, and unknown forces bend all the world around us.

"Noble One. . . I only ask. . . please, bring my Pocahontas home to me."

Three little voices. So busily they whisper, thoughts, plans, details. These last few days were filled with those little voices, so long my sole companions. They were there from my earliest years, raising me, guiding me with love and nobility. They were there when I fell in love, forbidding me to ever see you again, Phillip, my cherished one. They were there when I fell under the curse, there when you fought your way to me, and broke the spell with your kiss. I wake, your sweet face greeting me, and you stir from sleep sensing the voices too. Lady Flora, Lady Fauna, and Lady Merryweather. "The three good fairies," you quietly attest. "They've returned."

I nod, offering a gentle smile, more to reassure myself as him. "And what are you three dears doing at this hour?" I ask, rising to see them at the foot of our bed. But beside them there is a gate, an arch, burning with light like the sun.

"Aurora," Lady Flora starts, ". . . we're so sorry. We know it's untoward, being here like this. . . though we haven't much choice."

"Dear," Lady Fauna invites, "come sit here." Meeting them at the foot of the bed, they float in the air about me, nervously watching Phillip and I both. Only when they set foot to the ground do I notice the concern that weighs over them. "We've avoided this for as long as we could, but we can't run from it any longer. No-one can."

"Oh, fiddlesticks!" Lady Merryweather interrupts. "You're just gonna scare her! Here! We have a gift for you." Her hand rests on my chest, Lady Flora and Lady Fauna doing the same. "There's no time left, Aurora. You. . . and Phillip, must go together. Step through the door. There will be others. You must go with this blessing."

"I. . . I don't understand. I don't. . ." Their powers unite at their hand, burning through me, through every fiber of my being, down to my heart. Beyond me. It is beyond me.

"One by chance," Flora drones.

"One by favor," Fauna adds.

"One by grace," Merryweather concludes, their voices then uniting. "Stand with them, Aurora. Stand with them against the darkness. . . at the heart of all things." Their hands withdraw and the terrible light fades, my eyes seeing through to find. . .they are gone. "Mothers? Where are you? Mothers!" And as autumn wind over cold dry earth their voices reach our ears.

"Quickly, children. Stand with them. There is no time. No time left. . . in the world."

VII

The last preparations are made, my father and the palace guards informed of our pending departure. My young husband; look at him. So strange to see him like this; unsure. Until I told him what awaited us, he never once seemed this way. "Aladdin, are you alright?" How anxious he appears, still trying to show courage.

"If you. . . if all of you, are going to face the kinds of things he says, Jasmine. . . I don't know what use I would be, to you, or to anyone."

"We must trust him, my love. He has never lied or misled us." Still he doubts. "It may be that you're wanted there for reasons other than sheer force. You are fast, and silent. And likely still the most famous thief in all. . . "

"Likely? No, no two ways about it: that's still mine. 'Likely'. . . pshhh."

It makes me smile to see him strut a little. Some bravado is good for us both, perhaps. Stepping to the stone railing of the balcony, at a glance our kingdom appears so peaceful. The bright moon is full and high above, many golden temples gleaming even in the half light. There is no sign of what we've been told. "The wind changes, my love. She's close." The fashioned amulet around my neck is cool and tarnished under my touch; the new abode of our closest companion, the ancient genie, with us through many dangers. "Aladdin, she's here." A brilliant flash of light heralds the arrival of a gleaming archway, a small, withered woman stepping through. She gives us both a curious eye.

"Hello, traveler," I greet. "We've been expecting you."

"Expecting me? How could you possibly. . ." Her voice trails away, her gaze fallen on the blue gem of the amulet. "Very well, then. Hurry, children. Hurry."

In my heart, I'm surprised at what I find this moment. Once again, I and my love are set against powers and schemes beyond our understanding. Once again, we face the darkness with only one another.

Marching in, Aladdin declares, "Well! I got my turban, got my dagger. That's all I need."

His smile is equally irritating and endearing. Oh, my love. If only I could face such dangers with your abandon. But his hand takes mine, and his eyes search mine, and without a word I know; through any storm, through any fire, our hearts beat as one, in this life or the next.

"Spirit us away, old traveler. The night over the world is falling fast."

VIII

The sun. Each day I wake to its golden light, feel its power through and through. On walks in the forest with Eugene, I shut my eyes and bask in its warmth like a friend's embrace. It is the source of my power, the light over all things, and it has started to fade. I sense it. Something is trying to cover it up, to hide it away, to keep it from ever again seeing the earth. I feel it, like every day of my life growing up in that tower, like being smothered; unable to breathe. Despite my hair only now beginning to grow back, despite the strange power moving through me, I don't know it will ever be what it was.

But there's more. In the last few days, there has been, not a voice, but a certainty. A knowing. An encouragement I've. . . I've felt, each time I walk in the sun. I'm encouraged to believe. The night is so long. A brilliant flash behind me! Can barely see. . . "Who?"

"There's nothing to fear from me, child," an old tiny voice claims. When my eyes clear, I see the voice belongs to an equally old tiny woman. Light and power dance around the arch; beautiful, unlike anything I've seen, and yet I'm not afraid. "I won't harm you," the little woman reassures.

"Are you here. . . because of the sun? Is it. . . dying?"

"Dying? I hope not." The little woman's short, aching steps to the window seem won at great cost. "But that's not up to me." She gazes up at the moon, her face seeming weighed by some terrible burden. "There are those who seek to keep that light hidden, for all time. Those who seek to turn the world to darkness and cold and fear."

"You want me to go with you, don't you?" I know it. I feel it. And for the first time, maybe in my whole life, I know why I was given this gift. "Then what are we waiting for?"

"My son."

Her ghostly form appears again in my dream, the same dream in nights before, speaking, calling, claiming me her son. And she shows me the dead past, how I was given this life.

"Awaken."

I see the man, his failing fight to lash the mast and moor and ropes, setting the sails. . .the broken, torn sails of a doomed ship. I see the woman, she, the ghost who speaks, lowered in a small boat to the crashing seas, in her arms a little one, a babe, crying before their last.

"Fear not, my son."

I see the skies burn bright, angry hands from above setting the ship ablaze, a hopeless wreck lost beneath the blackened waves. And there, through the darkness, an island that will be their home all the rest of their days.

"Be strong."

I see the man and the woman stand together, beneath a glowing ring of fire. Her ghost reaches out to me, her touch at my brow, her words living in me.

"We are with you, Tarzan, our beloved son."

"M-mother?"

"We are always with you."

"Mother!"A blaze of light burns in our room, waking me and Jane from sleep. She calls out in fright, seeing the burning ring. It is the same burning ring from my dream. I hear you, my mother, and I am not afraid. "Jane, don't fear. My mother told me; do not fear."

"Your. . . your mother? Your true mother?" She gazes at the burning ring, then to the small painting of my parents, with me, made when I was only just born. "Tarzan, what is that thing? Why is it here?"

I move toward it, sensing its power, knowing in my heart; it is good. A tiny old woman steps from the burning light in the center, her eyes carrying the weight of ages I've never seen. "What do you want old one? Has my mother brought you here?"

"Your mother? No, young man." She steps closer to Jane, her old eyes studying. "But your mother's ghost. . . she does sense what's coming. She does see."

"And the ring. . . it will take us away, to a different land?"

"Only you and I, young fellow." She opens her hand toward my wife, Jane growing heavy and slow, lost to sleep once again. "Don't fear, child. She will sleep in peace, and no harm will come to her. I promise."

Her old hand reaches out to me, her skin pale though so much like Kala's, and in my heart, I know. "I trust you, old one." Unseen by her, I take the small painting of my parents, and together we step under the burning ring. As the world falls in on itself, and the light around us shines like the sun, I hold strong to the final words my mother's ghost speaks.

" Always with you, and you with us; now and forevermore."

It's cold. And getting colder. It's midnight. It must be. The fire has burned so low. Don't want to get out of bed, and. . . my window. Why is it open? Snow covers the floor. And, and footsteps through it. Leading beside my bed! But. . . I smell dirt, and bark, and grass.

It's one of the dwarves. "Hello? Are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here, sad to say." He angrily swipes at his shoulders, flurries of snow falling to the cold stones. "I'm the only one willing to brave the night and the snow."

Something in his voice. "Why are you in my room? What's wrong?" His shoulders fall with his sigh. He's always been so dour. Not like this. "Grumpy. . .?"

"My lady. . . I've been sent to. . . to tell you of something, something that we, that no-one, in all the lands believed would. . . would ever happen. Something. . . terrible."

"Grumpy, you're scaring me." I don't want to hear this. I don't.

"Well, you should be scared," he huffs. "Anyone would be, and maybe that's a right good thing, too. Oh, Snow White, our little snow-heart. . . the forest spirits are speaking. They tell of princesses, of queens from many lands standing together, bringing their strengths, their powers against. . . against. . ."

". . . against what? Grumpy, tell me!" Why are his eyes so sad? I can't bear this.

"There's no true name for it, this terrible thing. But my lady, you must stand with them."

"With who? Why? I'm only a child, why am I needed? You're scaring me!"

"Forgive me, child," he comforts, sitting beside me. "Each princess and queen, in their heart and soul, each possesses something that is. . .wonderfully noble. Something good, my lady. Something pure and bright and the most precious of all things."He seems to listen for sounds beyond what I can hear. "And there is no choice, snow-heart. You must go."

Taking his hand in mine, I only hope against hope. "Can you go with me?"

"No, my lady. None may go with you to that place. The. . .the old traveler is here." The room bursts with a light like the sun, and when it fades, a strange arch with wisps of flame stands at the foot of my bed. And stepping from the center, a tiny old woman, her face care-worn and wrinkled, her long years told in her big dark eyes.

"Go, child. Go with her, and all the blessings and luck in the world be with you."

The old woman takes my hand, but there's no comfort. I don't understand this. Why am I needed? Why do I have to go? The arch burns with a strange power, like living fire. Where is this taking me? I don't want to go. I don't want to go. I don't want. . .

Eldritch forces ignite once more, the arch collapsing inward, and in a final blinding flash and rush of wind, they're gone. In the darkened room, a small figure weeps, huddled against the cold, angrily wiping his face. "Oh, farewell, our little angel-heart. I pray we'll see you again some day."

Even at this distance, I see a shimmering light, deep in the woods of Arendelle. The last few nights, the woods around the trolls' home have been lit with bright flashes, their magic waking me from sleep.

". . . Elsa," my sister whispers at my door.

"Anna, shh. Come in." The door opens and she stealthily makes her way beside me. Gazing together out the window, the flashes surge and ebb again. "You've seen it too?" I ask, her azure eyes locked on the far woods with the same apprehension I feel.

"Yeah, it woke me up. What do you think it is?"

"I. . . I don't know." The dancing light seems almost alive, and my mind and heart join together with a realization: it might be something. . . speaking. "I've never seen magic like this, Anna." Searching her face, I find part of me wishes she would stay behind for her own safety, and part of me feels she'd only be safe at my side. At my side? Am I already certain I'm going to face this? Yes. This is my kingdom. My people must never again be unsure of me. "Together?" I ask, offering my hand. Her mischievous grin is enough for me.

The frigid waters of Arendelle bay streak past beneath us, a serpentine column of ice formed over them at my command, carrying us fast as a diving falcon. Anna bears the freezing winds, her hand strong and burning warm, my brave sister: unafraid. Closer, closer still the far shore looms, with scattered stones around and the deep woods beyond. Slowing our speed to remain silent, we draw near, the light brilliant as the high sun, and seeing the trolls standing in a ring about the center, we come to rest. "Elsa. . . what is that?"

At the center of their stone pillars rests a magical gateway, an arch, crawling with living fire.

And speaking with Pabbie is a small, old woman, her form bent with age, her eyes shining with care and kindness. "Pabbie?" I ask. "What magic is this? Is it your doing?"

"Queen Elsa, my lady, Anna. Welcome. No, it is not our doing. We've tried to keep this hidden until we were sure of what approaches, but now, we've run out of time."

"Keep what hidden?" I urge, "what approaches? Please, Pabbie. Speak plainly." Without a word he looks to the old woman, and with her nod, he begins.

"My queen, there is. . . something in the earth. Something through the sky. Something reaching its hand to every corner of the world. The spirits of the woods flee before it, and have now joined their power together for one purpose."

Anna grips my hand tight, and in my heart I don't want to hear. "Pabbie? What purpose?"

"To make a stand, my queen. There is deep movement through all the spirit world. The shadow and the light gather their forces, some touched by magic, some with an even greater power. And some. . . have both." His black eyes search my face, and. . . Anna's?

"What greater power?"

"Their very heart, dear lady. The champions of light have been drawn together, the final two, until this hour, still left in the balance."

I don't like this. "You speak of us, don't you? No. No! I won't let. . . she won't go! If. . . if you have need of me to stand against this shadow, I accept. But Anna will not go. Pabbie. . .she has no powers." A glimmer of confusion shadows his eyes, and taking my hand, his touch is coarse and cold as the stones around us.

"Oh, dear child," he asserts, "she has the greatest power in all this world. Love."

My courage breaks hearing it. I know it's true. It lives in my heart, but I can't. . .won't lose her. Pabbie gazes past us, up into the sky, the pale light of the moon starting to wane.

"The shadows draw near. Your choice must be made now, my queen."

From the west, a gale wind blows, tearing at the earth, tearing at our back. Again I reach out to my sister, finding her hand already there. Little sister. I pray to be as strong as I seem in your eyes. And. . . your eyes. A deep, glowing ember burning within them! The old woman takes our hands and together we stand under the glowing arch, the incandescent energy from it falling over us. Beyond the searing flash, beyond the wavering collapse of my sight, I witness my beloved city; once seeming to stretch without end through the land, now as tiny and fragile as a new snowflake, fallen beneath this dreadful storm.

Part Two

Edge Of the World

XII

The world twists past, writhing around us as a thing alive, lost out of place and time. Thrown beyond all sight and sound and will, broken shards of far distant lands splinter and fall away, carrying Anna and I to our unknown destination. The ground hits hard upon my feet, my senses spinning, my ears ringing, and two. . . six. . . ten bright flashes, one upon the other, encircling us and our guide. The blinding light fades, each breath filled with the salt and heaviness of the sea, and past the lamenting night wind's howl and the waves' eternal roar, I begin to hear others' voices. Where is my sister? "Anna!" I hear her groans behind me. The journey made her sick. "Are you alright?"

She nods, gathering herself, as quieted by our company as myself. Searching their faces, I'm stunned to see. . . I can't believe. Even in the half light, her hair nearly glows.

"Rapunzel? Cousin!" Taking Anna's hand, we draw closer to her. "You. . . you don't recognize us?" Her hair is shorter than I would have imagined, from the tales we heard.

"If your hair weren't so long even as this, I never would have recognized you."

"Princess El. . .I mean, Queen Elsa. I was at your coronation, me and Eugene."

"Eugene?" Anna asks. "Who's Eugene?"

"Rapunzel, it's us. Your mother. . .and our mother, they're sisters. You, my sister Anna, and me: we're family." How does she not remember?

"Forgive me, my Queen. I never knew any of my family, and only recently found them again. I was taken from them, when I was just a baby. Because of my. . . my gift."

A golden light! Yes! It floods down from the crown of your head. "Rapunzel! It is you." Taking her hand, she seems less fearful. "And what a joy to have family with us again." Why am I shaking? Anna's in shock. Be strong. "I am queen Elsa of Arendelle. This is my sister, Anna. Will you tell us your names?" I swear I know some of them, and the one man, the savage stranger, with only scraps of clothes. Something about him. . . so familiar.

"I'm Rapunzel, Queen Elsa's. . . cousin. . . ?"

I can only nod in approval. Anna is mesmerized by Rapunzel's hair already. "And you?"

"I am Prince Adam. This is my beloved wife. . ."

"Belle?" The savage stranger asks. "Adam. . . and . . . Belle?"

Why does he step closer to them? What is it I see in his eyes?

"I am Tarzan, lord of the jungle, lord of the apes. My wife. . . her name, is Jane. Jane Porter."

I can't tell if he's angry, or sad. Oh. . .please don't do anything rash. But he continues.

"When I first met Jane, she showed me pictures. Pictures of her land. Pictures of all the world. Of kingdoms, of the animals, of friends, and, of paintings. Even paintings of her family. And two she showed me, I keep them in my heart. One, was of you, her grandfather, Prince Adam."

"Young sir, I don't know who you are, but I'm sure you're mistaken; Belle and I. . . we have no children of our own, as yet."

"Adam, you are the man in the painting," the strange man insists. "Across his face, across the frame, terrible slashes, like a sword. And only the eyes remained. But there were others, of you, lady Belle. Jane showed so many of you, a dress, as golden as the sun. "

My goodness. That got her attention.

"Jane told me of an old castle, and a curse, and under glass a dying rose. She spoke of how lady Belle. . . saw you, Adam, your true self, though your form was. . . a beast."

"A beast. Yes. Belle? My love. . . can it be true?"

"I am Prince Phillip, and this is Aurora, my wife. I'm afraid I don't know any of you."

"My name is Jasmine, Princess of Agrabah, of the eastern deserts."

"And uh, hey! I'm Aladdin, prince of thieves."

His kind smirk betrays a good heart, it seems. So many of us. And. . . stepping forward from the rest. Oh. I can't believe. It's her.

"Hello, my lords and ladies. I'm Cinderella. My husband is Prince Charlemagne."

I have to speak to her. "My lady, Cinderella. I believe. . . your husband is related to my sister Anna and I, through our mother, and perhaps his father? I'm not sure. And. . .forgive me, but. . .I thought your husband's name was. . ." Why does she smile?

"You thought his name was Prince 'Charming'? Yes. The little children of the kingdom could never say 'Charlemagne'. He adores hearing them, and allowed it to remain."

And who is that? She is so dark and strong; a magnificently graceful woman.

"I am Pocahontas. Daughter of Chief Powhatan of Tsenacommacah. The spirits have guided me here, but none of you are known to me."

And. . . who is that, hiding in the shadows? My goodness. She's just a child. Who on earth would bring one so young to this place? "Hello, child. Don't be afraid. It's alright." How frightened she seems.

"I'm. . . I mean, my friends. They call me Snow White."

Bless her heart. "Rapunzel?" I nod, urging her to go over. They're closer in age. But this one. . . she's so young. "Who are your friends, Snow White?"

". . . the Dwarves. . . of, the black forest."

I can't blame her for being so timid. "Snow White, this is my cousin, Rapunzel. She won't let anything happen to you." At least it brings a tiny comfort to her. Poor little soul.

"Well, I'm Merida, Princess of the land o' DunBroch. Not sure what I'm doin' here, but more is merrier, they say."

"It is good to have strong friends," Tarzan continues. "I am glad to know you all." He steps to the group center and studies something in his hand. "But though Jane knows Adam and Belle, I. . . don't know any of you."

Again, he does seem so familiar. "Tarzan, can you tell us; who are your parents?"

His soulful eyes search our faces, and he again gazes at what he holds in his hand. "I don't know their names. It was never found."

"Found?" I urge, hoping it isn't too much.

"Yes. I know some. A small book was found on the island where I live. A book with their words, their thoughts. I know they were sailing over the seas, for a wedding in a northern kingdom. Their ship was caught in a terrible storm, and taken far from land for many months. I was born to them, after the others were lost, after the sea claimed them all. Their ship was taken down the earth under the winds, to where the air burns hot, and the seas are warm. And on a beautiful island, they found a new life, until a creature of the jungle took them from me. I would have died there, with them, if not for the love of one; Kala, my ape mother who took me as her child, her family raising me as their own." Yet again his eyes search what he holds, and compassion demands I go to him.

"What is it you look at, Tarzan?"

"It is a painting, a likeness of my parents, made by my mother when she still lived."

Looking down upon the tiny frame, the little forms of the wrought pewter are exactly the same as the frames throughout Arendelle castle. And seeing the faces of his parents, my heart grips in my chest, all the world turning beneath my feet. I cannot see beyond my trembling hand, can no longer hear the crashing waves. I only hear the strangest sounds, someone, me, unable to breathe. The eyes of the man and the woman in the portrait have grasped onto my soul. I know them. I've seen them, each and every day of my life.

I reach out to my sister and pray for the strength to not fall on the cold stones of the ruins around us. "Anna?. . . Anna come here." Her eyes are locked to me, and she speaks, but I can't hear her words. At last I see why this strange man looks so familiar. At last I understand. When Anna sees the faded painting, my heart nearly breaks. Tears streak her face, her voice in disbelief at this, the impossible gift we have somehow been given. My tears won't stop, but I no longer care. "Anna. . . we have a brother." His dark eyes gauge us both once more, and fix on the drawing of our parents, once and again.

His strong hands falter, and for all his powerful form, something falls over him, nearly breaking him beneath it. Anna embraces him, her quiet crying burning through me, and never have I seen a deeper joy, a greater happiness in another soul than what I see in his eyes. With abandon, he holds about us both, his sorrow giving way to a laughter, a cry of triumph beyond anything I've ever heard in all the world. He remembers himself and sets us down, and I allow myself to wipe away his tears. Our beautiful brother. Our family.

"Sorry, Queen Elsa," he offers. I shake my head, the world still blurred around me. "Just Elsa, Tarzan. Elsa, and Anna." Holding my sister's hand and my brother's hand, it seems nothing in the world can stand against us.

"Not to cast rain oer this," Merida adds, "but lookin' around at lots o' faces, one's missin'. I'm wonderin' where the other girl is, the one with long red hair and that burnin' spear."

"I'm here, Merida," Ariel claims, her hooded form appearing from the shadows with the old woman. "I've been here from the moment you arrived." Drawing down her hood, she gazes out past the land, over the roiling seas as though waiting.

"Lady Ariel!" Cinderella gasps, "My lady, Prince Eric. . .is he. . .?"

"Don't fear for your distant cousin, princess. My husband is well."

The others stand close with Ariel, and so too Tarzan and Anna with me. I have to know. "Princess, what is this place?" Her blue eyes search far over the cresting windswept sea, seeking. . . waiting for sights and signs beyond what we can tell.

"It is the edge of the world, queen Elsa. These are the ruins of the last castle of men, which stood in defense of my true home, in ages past, before the great fall."

"Ooo! The Great Fall!" Merida adds, standing closer with Ariel. "Me great granpappy, he told muh dad of it, and he to me. So long ago, the tale, but never thought it was. . . was. . ."

Taking Phillip's hand, Aurora steps to the edge of the shattered pier, stoic against the lashing wind and spray. "The great fall? A war? Lady Ariel, is that part of why we're here?"

"No," Pocahontas affirms, joining us. "The history of my land is told and written in beads, over thousands of years." Her dark eyes watch Ariel, fascinated to stand beside her. "And like Merida, The Great Fall is known to us, a war between the people of the land, and the seas; two kingdoms divided ever after."

"Lady Ariel," Anna begins, "Forgive me, I've. . . I've never heard of you. What kingdom are you princess of?"

From out across the blackened seas a roaring crash is heard, the waves upheaved, broken in two, a surging crest of ocean rising higher from a massive unseen form drawing near. Ariel shows no fear, her face serene, even joyful. Beneath the flowing waters pushed aside by the approaching form, I see glowing shapes in many colors. It breaks the surface, a mighty construct as I've never known in all the world, dwarfing Arendelle castle. Though forged from gold and gems and pearl, the gleaming hull of the vessel flows with shapes as a living thing, both beautiful and dreadful. And as softly as a mother kissing her baby, it comes to rest against the pier, a golden doorway opening, a walkway extending.

"My father is King Triton; son of Poseidon. And I am princess of the lost city of Atlantica."

Part Three

Descent

XIII

Down and down through endless dark we plunge, faster than a falling stone. As queen of Arendelle, I knew our ships were the fastest in the land, but the speed of this vessel is beyond my dreams. From the heart of this moving city, behind the golden walls about us, unseen forces hum and bristle, performing their impossible work. In the curved bow before us are embedded great crystal domes, protecting us against the crushing depths, and seen beyond are gliding monsters both gossamer and new, glimpsed only a moment until darting aside before the passage of so titanic a vessel, unstoppable in its descent into the unnamed and unknown deep.

Entranced by our journey, Aladdin and Phillip stand beyond the captain's wheel, seemingly enamored over the most fleeting sights they can glean. If not for his princely reserve, Phillip might be pressed close to the crystal dome just as Aladdin; his long hope to dive the hearts of the seas at last made real. And Aurora; Phillip never lets her feel she's alone. His arm is ever about her, or holding her hand. She seems far less sure about this descent; and I can't blame her. I've never cared for the ocean, not since it claimed the lives of our parents. Still, this day has brought so much joy to Anna and me. And our brother, Tarzan; he fights to not shrink into the far shadows. I can only imagine how much this place, these people and even newfound family must be to him. It's good of Anna to try and comfort him. Though. . . I wonder. Where is the old woman?

XIV

In so much turmoil, it's good to finally sit. The genie spoke of the time ahead, and what Aladdin and I would face. Look at him. Like a young boy, overjoyed at these discoveries. At least it seems I'm not alone in wanting a moment's peace. Little Snow White still keeps by the side of young lady Rapunzel, neither one daring to venture close to the bow. Pocahontas. She sits alone on the very floor, eyes closed, whispering words in a tongue I've never heard. Her meditation reminds me of the great Vedics. We are an unexpected collection, to be sure.

"Princess Jasmine. Hello, again. I'm. . ."

"Lady Cinderella. Yes, I remember."

"May I sit with you?"

"Please, yes." A small inviting gesture is all she requires to join me. Her eyes seem fascinated, seeing me. "What is it, lady Cinderella?"

"I. . . forgive me, Jasmine. It's. . . I've never, in my whole life, seen such glorious dark hair and eyes, and such bronze skin. Have you lived your life under the sun?"

"All my years, and all my land, fair princess. To live in the sun is the one certainty in my kingdom, far over the eastern sands."

"I'd love to visit there, some day, if you'll allow me."

An old woman's voice flatly adds: "You'll get sunburned, Cinderella, I'm pretty sure."

It's the strange old one; the one who brought us together to the ruined castle. "Old one, what is your place in this? How have you become a servant to the sea king?"

"Oh, I merely help lord Triton, when he asks it of me. In return, he helps me in my long search, and has for many, many years."

"Search?" Cinderella, asks. "Search for what?"

"Her long lost friend," Ariel states, sitting just a little away. "The Noble One searches endlessly, and as she helps us and the cause of good, she is given knowledge, and power, to hopefully bring her one step closer to the aim of her heart."

Strange, that I hear the genie in my thoughts. Strange to hear his urgent whisper. Her eyes. They rest upon my amulet, the genie's new home. What is your intention, old one?

"But, I don't understand," Cinderella interrupts. "Your father. . . King Triton. Is he not able to find her friend? Is there nothing to be done?"

"Great is my father's power, over many things: the seas of the earth, the life within them, even the wind. But there are truths beyond his sight."

Still the old woman's eyes search my amulet. Why does she seem so sad?

Jasmine. Allow it.

Your whispers unsettle me, genie. There's something more beyond these words.

There's always something beyond words. It's called doing something. She hears. Allow it.

"Old one. . . rather, Noble One. I've been asked to. . ." Wait! Truly, she does hear. Already she steps forward, her trembling hand reaching out to the azure stone my amulet bears. One sliver of time, one forgotten whisper, one infinite gift. How her eyes light with unshakeable resolve behind tears of hope. She runs. Despite her age, beyond her frailty, she runs from us, straight to the burning arch.

"Noble one?" Ariel asks, ". . . where are you going?"

We are all forgotten of the woman. You, genie. You have reached out and once again shaken the strings of fate. I pray only good and light comes from this; for us, and for her. Again the blinding flash that carries her away, again the rush of wind, and she is gone.

"The amulet is exquisite, lady Jasmine," Belle lauds, Adam sitting beside. "Is it enchanted? Is that why the old one left?"

Touching the tarnished surface, I sense only the cool metal. The genie remains silent. "Enchanted? In a way. It is home to a friend, a genie, who goes with us on our travels."

"A genie?" Tarzan puzzles. "Jane told me about genies! She told me they are wrathful! They are powerful and fearsome, known through the world for great and terrible things!" His outburst over, Tarzan realizes the utter silence surrounding him. "Or, maybe that's just a myth. . ."

"When Aladdin was his master," I continue, "the genie mirrored Aladdin's nature. He was light in heart and word, and purely faithful, but never wrathful. From what I see, the genie becomes a mirror of what rests within one's soul."

"My goodness, what a gran' ol' tale! Yur very own lil genie," Merida gushes. "That mus' be right nice. So yur his new master, yeah?"

"No, the genie has no master now. My first wish was that he would never again have to bind himself to the will of another."

"And, your second wish, lady Jasmine?" Aurora softly urges. "There are always three."

"Not for me. I was only given one. And with it, the genie became truly. . . my friend."

We're drawing nearer. I can feel my city in the depths below. My father's divine power holds ever about us, a guarding embrace, turning back the darkness of the world. But there are forces beyond even him. How can any lesser power stand in hope? Courage, father.

"Princess Ariel," Rapunzel begins, "may we sit with you?"

She seems so young. I can only wonder what meaning her presence will be. I offer some room for her and little Snow White. She holds Rapunzel's hand like she'd vanish without it. Poor child. I can see her fear. It mirrors my own.

"Princess Ariel, the. . . the old lady you call 'Noble One'. Who is she?"

"I only know her as a traveler. Throughout her long life she has moved across the world, and even across time, helping my father when he needs." My answer seems to puzzle her.

"Time? She can really do that?"

"Yes. Even here, now, all of you she gathered are separated by hundreds of years."

"Lady Ariel?" Snow White asks, "she's gone again, isn't she? Where did she go?"

In a hush, I realize my guests search my face, awaiting an answer. "All her life, she's searched for her lost friend. The genie told her where she needs to go, to end that lifelong search." Lost in thought, Snow White rests her head on Rapunzel's shoulder and a blessing is given from her innocent heart. "I hope she finds her friend."

"So do I, little one. So do I."

XVI

Infinite. Infinite times, infinite places. They surround my gate, stretching away forever. It's what I was told, the genie's whisper, effortlessly threading a needle I couldn't even see:

'you will find him. . . there'. Sifting through every moment of every world of every time and place, a tiny gleam of pale blue light shines, setting itself apart. So hidden, so unassuming and small, a single note I've so tirelessly hoped to hear in the unending symphony, and until the genie plucked it from the oneness of all, it remained forever lost. But I see it now, and nothing will stand in the way. Nothing. Nothing. I am here.

The flash of light and rush of wind are lost against the howling, freezing storm, snow and sleet tearing at my face, my eyes. Where am I? An unnamed world, floating through time, my glowing doorway the only light I see. Craggy mountainsides hide this small grotto, covered deep in frozen drifts. I was told he was here. He must be here. But where? I can barely see through the tempest, except, there: one small swirl of snowflakes, carried on a wisp of wind into a hidden passage. Nothing else matters: my freezing hands, the tearing at my skin, the ache in my bones, none of it, the wall of ice and snow slowly giving way.

I'm through it, and before me is only a darkened cave. I can't see anything. From my hair I bring a little ring of cloth, bound to a small pink bead, and give it a name. "Light!"The darkness retreats, the cave shown at last. The floor is covered in snow, and here, there, the winds have gathered it into soft piles reaching further into the shadows. "Hello?"Only an echo returns. The genie couldn't have been wrong. My friend must be here. Another gathering of breath to call into the darkness of. . .

"Whoever you are, go away."

A voice! "Hello? Hello!" I heard someone! I know I did. But. . . it didn't sound like him.

"Are you there? Where are you?" If I go a little further maybe I'll see where it. . .

"I won't hurt you," the voice answers, ". . . if you just leave me alone."

I can't take another step. My old eyes, blast them, look. Look. . . where do I hear the voice? Every drift of white, every pile of ice, every rounded bank of snow. . . and one, at the right, is different from the rest. Have to make my way without a sound, have to try and see it clearer, and. . . there. Yes. Covering the one odd shape in the corner I see wisps of hair, long and pale blue, lazily falling with each tiny breath of wind. At last. At last I know: the passing years, the endless search of all my days has come to an end, and the thousand things I've wanted to tell you over the years go away, and I can only whisper your name. ". . . kitty."

I can't bear the strain of this any more. You're here. My dear friend. I found you at last. The furry drift of snow stirs, and turns, your kind face and soulful eyes the greatest gift I'd ever hoped to receive.

". . . boo?"

I remember how strong you were, my beloved friend. You seemed like a mountain. But the years lost to us bring your tears and mine, and there's nothing that would ever heal my heart but this; being scooped up in your arms, giving you the biggest hug of your life, knowing we will never be apart, ever ever again.

XVII

I refuse to allow a wall between Anna and me. Such a wall stood, dividing us, for too much of our childhood; dividing us and nearly tearing us apart. If I'm going to ask her, it must be now. Dear sister. It would be fair if you turned me away, as I turned away from you so long ago. But you always were the more loving of us. "Anna? May I ask you something?" Even though the others are some distance away, I lead her to a forgotten corner, preparing my heart should she refuse to speak with me. "Do you remember when we left Pabbi, the very moment we stepped into the gate?"

"Elsa!" she bursts, seeming overcome. "What in the world took you so long?"

Well, okay. "For just a moment, it. . . it was like your eyes. . . like they caught fire." Your smirk tells me volumes.

"I know! They did! Or, it feels like they did. I'm not sure. But, when that. . . that ice you made, hit my heart. . . Elsa. I asked Pabbie. It should have killed me."

No. No, it hurts to even hear you say that.

"And not days or hours later, Elsa. If you hit anyone else, it would have. There's something changing me. Every day, it's stronger and stronger! And it started with my heart. When I was brought into my room, my heart was freezing. It hurt to breathe, to move. But when I reached out to the fire. . . Elsa. I could feel it. Completely through me, I could feel it."

"Anna, my dear sister." Please don't judge these tears, little bug. I never dared hope to have such a bond with you as this. "Can you. . . can you control it? Can you show me?" You don't even hesitate, your hand upturned, and from under your skin glimmers a deep red glow, as old burning embers, caressed by the night wind. And heat. Intense heat. Growing brighter. Growing hotter! "Anna. . . Anna! Stop. Stop. . . not here. When we arrive, will you. . . will you let me train you? Or, learn with you?" Your grin and excited nod are almost too much for me. At last I fear for you, less. Well, at least a little less. Beyond the crystal dome beside us, the ocean depths are slowly filled with a faint illumination, growing brighter each moment. Ariel stands from beside Rapunzel and Snow White, and steps forward to the bow, the joy shining through her impossible to contain.

And what she sees. What we all see.

From birth, Anna and I were surrounded by what we considered the finest creations of art and architecture and tapestry of all the land. The skills of masters in those fields had been brought to focus with each silken thread, with each aged carving, with every ornament of gold. Endless halls of our castle are filled with each upon each of these, their worth and praise a lasting pride in the hearts of our people. And should all the beauty and finery of our kingdom be gathered together and placed before the shining golden city of jewels and light we witness in stunned silence beyond this vessel. . . it would all be as nothing.

"My lords, my ladies," Ariel, beams, "my friends. . . welcome, to the city of Atlantica."

XVIII

Down winding tunnels and silver passages, beneath grand streams of Atlantica's astonished citizens we find our way, Anna, myself, our entire company gathered aboard a small speeding craft piloted through the crystal waters. With fearless will or reckless abandon, Ariel brings us ever onward, relentless in her one goal: to deliver us unto the ruler of an empire vast and powerful beyond imagining. Our speed slows, the craft edging upwards to the floor of a structured dome, the top of our craft emerging into open air, prepared for us. A portal at the bow of the craft opens, Ariel darting through.

"Father? We're here!" Still she searches the chambers, but there is only silence.

Seemingly drawn to a window, Aurora and Cinderella gaze out over the meandering reaches of the city below. "Heavens," Aurora gasps, "What a beautiful realm, Ariel."

Indeed. Allowing myself to breathe, I search over the chamber around us. The entire structure is a ring, topped with a high dome above, and many rooms, each equally spaced around it. In the center floor of the chamber is another pool, but unlike the entryway, this pool is dark, dimly illuminated by shifting colors of light. "What is this room for?"

In answer, a rush of churning water rises from the center pool, a shining radiance filling the room. A mighty column of water lifts high, flowing over and down the impossibly strong form of King Triton. Over his commanding shoulders flows a mane of silver-white locks down to his waist, and from his chin, seven gathers of his beard. Upon his head, a crown in mother of pearl carved into five perfect points, and in his hand a staff topped with a single sharpened curve. I have never seen such a mighty and dreadful weapon, its form burning the very air around it, possessed of a power none of us can fathom.

"This room, Queen Elsa, was a council chamber for the sons of men before the Great Fall."

Raised as royalty, most of us bow before him, Anna guiding Tarzan in silence to do the same. But, from the corner of my eye, I see Pocahontas kneel, and. . . and speak to him in her native tongue!

"Ojibwe Inca, . . . Great Lord, I offer my strength to your honor."

His eyes fall on her, and in her own tongue, he answers. "Pocahontas, of the ancient tribes. You are welcome in my house."

Casting his gaze over us, he speaks. "Rise, friends. Beyond this day, there may be no more such kings and queens in all the world."

"Father," Ariel interrupts, "I've done as you ask. They are all here."

The staff she carries. . . it lifts from her hand, moved through the empty air, its glowing form melding with the staff Triton carries, forming his fabled Trident. My heart. Courage, my heart. What do we face, to demand the notice of such powers as these?

"All here?" he questions, searching. "Not all, my child. One is still on her way."

A blinding flash and rush of wind brings the last of us, the old woman. And. . . with her. . .

"Ah!" Triton lauds, seeing the strange creature beside her. "You found your friend! Good, good! Welcome, Outsider. Without you, we might have had little chance at all."

"Mm, thank you sir. I. . . don't know any of you, or why we're here, or how Boo even found me. And. . . hey! How did you find me?"

The old woman's hand is lost in his huge paw, though she seems more at ease here. He does have a strange shape, with his large eyes and tiny horns. But I can see the care he takes of her, so small next to him. "It was princess Jasmine," she answers. "A genie lives in the amulet she carries. He told me where to find you."

"A genie?" His big eyes puzzle over the amulet and Jasmine. "Genies are real?"

"Elder spirits, they are," Triton answers, ". . . from after the time of the titans."

Though the rest of us seem hesitant to draw near the old woman's friend, Merida doesn't seem intimidated at all. "Hello, big fella!" she chirps. "Wut's yur name? I'm Merida."

"Hi there, Merida. I'm Ki. . . I mean, I'm Sully."

Why does that make the old woman smile?

"Great king," Jasmine begins, ". . . will you tell us; why have you gathered us here?"

Out of thin air high above him, an empty sphere grows, its edge bristling with arcane power, and within that sphere we are shown sights none from our world have ever known.

"Behold, the time before man and trolls and magic, the time before the land and earth and sky, before titans and form and thought, even to the beginning of all. Within the heart of the foundling creation, two great truths: that which gives and creates and loves, and that which takes and destroys and hates. All arise from them, and all are brought through them. But from those shadows, some seek to surpass the light, to veil the moon and sun and stars, drowning all that is good and bright and pure. . . beneath a night that will never end."

What is shown. It's beyond words. The balance between good and evil. Impossible. Snow White. She is too young for this. Rapunzel guards her from seeing. Blessed cousin.

"Have any one of us not been visited by such shadow? Have any one of us not met that very place, where we stand between the darkness and the light, and make our choice? You, young Pocahontas, standing before the odious man, Ratcliffe? You, brave Merida, standing against your own pride? You, Belle and Adam, wounded by the selfishness of Gaston? You, Mary, my trusted servant, with your friend, the Outsider, standing against the machinations of cruel Waternoose? You, Cinderella, captive to the hatred of your stepsisters and stepmother? You, fair Aurora, cursed of the embittered Maleficent? You, young Jasmine and Aladdin, beset by the schemes of diabolical Jafar? You, young lady Rapunzel, imprisoned by the selfish soul, Gothel? Courageous Tarzan, facing the destructive nature of Clayton? You, innocent little Snow White, poisoned by the self-obsessed wraith witch, Grimhilde? And you, lady Anna, and fair Queen Elsa. . . "

I refuse to hear him, I cannot bear it, but cannot shut out his words. Each cuts into me for their truth, and I hide away from my sister's eyes, knowing too well the choice of which Triton speaks. For unlike the others who were hurt or hated or beset by others, my shame was from the darkness I felt within me; the darkness that I embraced from fear and pain when I lashed out at all the world.

"Each of these, you have known," Triton continues. "Each of these, visited upon you. With each shadow created, with each cruelty given, the evil grows strong, becoming form, with a life its own. Within this world, such evil has a name. Behold: Chernabog. It is the creator of all sorrow, the foundation of all shadow."

The horror breaks my mind. I can only bear a glance, still burned into my eyes. Its skin flows with crawling pitch, its creature eyes pale as a sliver moon, a raging fire burning behind its teeth. The men lock their gaze to it, trying to comprehend, but neither I nor the women want to comprehend. I want only a return to the life of peace and light I once knew.

"Lord Triton, why us?" I demand, keeping my eyes turned from the terrible sight.

"Because, brave souls, I am not the only seer across time. For ages, I have sought to remain one step ahead of Chernabog, finding those few, in all the world, with the most sacred of treasures in their heart. To you, Merida I sent the Noble One, to bring your spirit to the light of humility. And you, prince Adam, the Enchantress sent to your door, demanding you make your choice between kindness and apathy. But Chernabog saw my plans to place each of you within that moment of choice which became your life. He looked into your heart, Pocahontas, and saw what he believed was a weakness he could use against you: your desire to love and be loved. All your life you've longed for this, but your perseverance remained unbroken. You, Rapunzel, stolen from your family, with the seed of selfishness he planted in the heart of Gothel. To lock away your life and the justice you would one day bring upon your captor and perhaps upon him was his greatest hope.

"With you, young Jasmine, Jafar's ambition and covetousness was made by Chernabog into a great flame, which sought to consume all. And it surely would have, if not for a chance and should I say. . . timely discovery made by Aladdin. From you, Cinderella, he took your parents before their time, swaying the cruel hearts of your stepmother and stepsisters to rule over you. And over the early years of you, Queen Elsa, and princess Anna, was the fear put into your father's heart by Chernabog for so great a power. To keep you locked away forever would have been his triumph over the light within you both. But resolve and love, within both your hearts, won out over him. And with you, Tarzan, their lost brother. The king and queen of Arendelle were caught in a storm of his making. The height of my powers was demanded to prevent their death at sea, but to instead guide them far from Chernabog and his hatred. Yet, I have no will over creatures of the land, and their lives were still cut short in the end. And you, Aurora. In dreams I gave my counsel to your mother and father, that they should save your life by giving you up, raised by the three good fairies. But the evil of Maleficent is not easily avoided, as so nearly cost your death by your trust.

"And you, little Snow White. How easily overshadowed is innocence. How easily brought low that purest of lights. Trusting in the good at the heart of all people, you accepted a single gift, your life held in the balance. The crawling vine of hatred sought to keep hold over each of you, to shut you away, to hide the light in your spirit, and secure an open path for Chernabog unto all the world. All of you. . . even to my own child. Ariel, my beloved daughter; how my heart was broken, allowing you to sacrifice yourself, and give your voice to the sea witch for the sake of love. Still, my friends are many, and though the height of Chernabog's evil reached to the very heavens, even the smallest creatures were asked to divert his will. In each time, with each soul, the choice was made for that which is best in all of us, to stand above each form of his shadow that fell upon you.

"These evil souls that have crossed over your lives are his acolytes. They are his children. Under each new moon, the evil that is Chernabog grows in power, and seeks to tear down the walls between worlds, to rule over all. . . in everlasting night."

"Lord Triton, please!" Phillip refutes, holding Aurora close to his heart. ". . . please."

Triton grants us mercy, the nightmarish apparition fading. "The vision of it is gone, my friends. But still it lives. Oh, but still. . . it lives."

Adam steps forward, angered. "Is this why you brought us here? You ask us to stand against that demon? It is impossible. There is no power in us to stand against such evil."

It is Belle's hand, a solitary caress to his face, which brings his anger to rest. "Adam, why do you believe so much in defeat? Can you never believe in the victory?"

Look at all of us. Little Snow White. Rapunzel comforts her so tenderly, drying her tears. Pocahontas. She leaves our presence without a word, retreating behind the doors of her chosen room. And the strange one, Sully. He looks entirely lost beneath this. Mary leads him away, seeking their own comfort of friendship. Fiery Merida: her strong nature seeks to protect Cinderella's gentle spirit, to diminish the shadow of what was seen. Jasmine. Her eyes are set like stone, her touch testing the amulet she wears. Aladdin holds close, though it seems as much for himself as for her. I reach out to Tarzan and he shows a brave face, accepting, and I take my sister's hand. Again together, the tested flame of my courage burns a little taller, but over us all lingers the unspoken fear: what are we brought into?

XIX

Kitty. My dear friend. There's quiet and peace at last, this tiny alcove allowing us a moment to just enjoy being back together. So strange to me, after most of a lifetime spent searching, being carried year after year by the smallest hope, to have that just. . . over. I'm afraid I'll wake up and find it was all a dream like so many times before. You're here. You're with me. Safe, and warm and alright, and my heart can hardly stand how happy I am. You haven't let go my hand from the first moment I hugged you. Your arm is around me, strong as a tree branch, keeping me close. To keep touching the soft fur on your arm comforts my heart. It's just I can barely believe. "I was looking for you from the first moment."

"I know, Boo. I always knew you wouldn't give up on me."

"Never." Maybe I'll just sit a little closer.

"Last thing I remember, Boo, we were on our way back from one of those energy-saver rallies at headquarters. We stepped into your door, and wham! I fell like a bag of rocks right onto that weird place where you just found me."

"I'm so sorry. All those years alone. . ."

"Hey, the worst part was not knowing if you were okay, Boo. For me, it could have been worse: I could'a landed in some tropical paradise." Behind your bright words I can still see the sadness. My beloved friend. You were lost for decades and you try to make me feel better. "What do you think we should do with what Triton showed us?"

"I don't know. But I do wonder why he called me 'the outsider'."

Silence surrounding me. Stillness within and without. Peace in my spirit, rising to the winds, carried to the corners of the earth. The beat of my heart. One with the earth. One with life.

Grandmother Willow. Hear me. Hear my voice.

I always hear you, Pocahontas. From your earliest days.

Grandmother, I am afraid. Afraid what we face is beyond all hope.

Nothing is beyond hope, dear child. A way must be found to that hope, between all of you.

A warrior should be in my place. War is unknown to me. My heart seeks only peace.

Oh dear child. Don't you see? That is why it must be you.

Tell me what I must do, Grandmother.

I can't. It is unknown to me what you will face. Only remember the fire that burns within.

Fire, Grandmother? What fire?

The fire which burns in your beautiful heart, dear child. Remember. . . remember.

Your words are a light to my path, Grandmother. I promise to keep them close. And if I should fail, I ask you to prepare a place for me, at the great council fires of my ancestors.

XXI

I can't believe the thing we were shown. I can barely breathe. Try not to think of it. Look at you, Merida. I can see how small I must appear in your eyes.

"Cinderella?"you ask me, "are you alright, then?"

"Am I alright? No, my friend. I'm far, far from alright." Can't stop my hands from shaking.

"You seem so strong, Merida. Are all women in your kingdom just like you?"

"All of 'em? Nah. I just won't let nobody tell me I can't do nothin' is all. It puts rocks in the road for muh family from time to time, but they love me all the same."

"I can't imagine being raised by a family that loves me. But, if you were there with my stepmother and stepsisters instead of me, Merida, I'm sure they wouldn't have a chance against you! Your fiery red hair is just like your heart; it refuses to be shut in or live in a cage. I wish I had such courage. "

"Courage? Oh, there's nothin' to it really. When you feel afraid or like ya can't face somethin', just. . . bow up your arms, clench your hands tight, and go. . . 'Gurrrrrrr!'"

"Oh, it seems odd, but. . . alright." Bow up. Clench hands. ". . . grrrrrr."

"Hm. Well, no. You gotta. . . just. . . feel it! Right here!" she guides, pounding her chest.

"Alright. Let me try again." Bow up. Clench hands. "Grrrrrr!"What is?. . . my hands! What on earth? A thousand little points of light, everywhere!

"Well that was a neat 'ol trick! Can ya' do it again?"

"Why I. . . I think. . . I think I can!"In my heart there's something powerful. I've. . . never felt it before. It floods right down through my arms and my hands stronger than in my whole life. I don't even hear the sound I make. I don't feel the small and frail nature of who I once was. It burns through me, a blinding. . . light! . . . banishing every shadow in the chamber. Well! That certainly drew everyone's attention.

XXII

Drawing my sister and Tarzan back into the main council chamber, it seems everyone else was just as astonished as I was, and gather around Cinderella. It must have been her.

"Lady Cinderella," Ariel starts, "what was that? Was it you?"

"It seems it was, yes. But, I'm not certain how, really. When I. . . focused my feelings, my courage on my hands, like Merida showed me, it just. . . "

Another blinding light. Too bright, burning my eyes. "Cinderella, we can't see. . ."

"Oh, I'm sorry for that, yes. It's amazing how strong this is! And I can do more! I feel it!"

"Princess, my sister Anna and I, we both have such gifts. Perhaps we can all learn together." There had to be another like us somewhere. From the shadows prince Adam steps forward.

"Such a power is within me, my ladies. But. . . as much a curse as a gift."

In his eyes, I see him unleash control, his form growing larger and larger, his frame becoming more than two, than three, than ten grown men. The fair visage of Adam is lost beneath the baleful glare of a mighty horned creature, savage teeth jutting above his snarl of a mouth, hands become as crushing, hooked claws. Terrifying. And still majestic. Belle's hand is quick to his arm, her heart reforging a single thread of compassion to draw him up out of such an impending abyss.

"Belle. . ." his labored, heaving voice asserts, "I'm still here, my love. I'm alright."

I never would have imagined such a thing lurked within him. But then, with all we've seen to this moment, truly anything could be possible.

"My goodness," Mary exclaims, ". . . Sully, he's even bigger than you!"

"Cousin Rapunzel. Come here." Her hair only barely reaches the floor, but it's more than enough. "It's alright, cousin. You can show them." From the crown of her head, a golden light flows down through her hair, lighting each strand like the sun. And with a single thought, she commands her locks to become alive, each one snaking through the air with a will of its own. "Her hair can heal any wound as well, even before death."

"A powerful gift, young one," Triton lauds. "I'm reminded of the great Medusa of old, with her head of snakes, hunting men with her terrible bow."

"Bow?" Merida chirps. "Did you say. . . bow?"

Wait. The same thought is in my mind as Merida's, but Ariel voices it first.

"Father? Medusa's bow. . . where is it?"

His aged eyes ponder back across the centuries, sifting through the sands of time.

"It lies in her temple, safely buried beneath pillars and stone. It was Perseus who. . ."

"Father? Merida. And Pocahontas. They're both archers."

"Archers. Why yes, they. . . oh my clever child. Yes. Yes! And. . . I think I know where to find a second one as well. I'll be right back."

"Lady Cinderella," Phillip adds, ". . . the display of light you made. It was magnificent."

Aurora stands back from him, seeming to avoid joining us. But in her eyes, she questions something. Her focus turns to her own hands, and from beneath her skin a coruscating melding of red and green and blue burns bright, tendrils radiating out from her chest to encircle her, lifting her into the air. Her eyes glow with a light beyond this world, her hair adrift in a tide unseen, her voice become strong from powers unimaginable.

"Mothers. My dear mothers. I hear you. Your light moves through me, and I will not fall."

None of us are sure whether to praise or fear her. But I see. . . we all see more clearly now, exactly why we were brought together in this place. The arcane energies around Aurora vanish, bringing her back to the floor.

"What about you, Elsa?" Tarzan encourages. "And you, Anna?"

With my smallest thought, a clear column of solid ice forms from the ceiling to the floor, then I cover the entire surface with ice daggers. "I can control snow and ice. And if I want, I can create ice servants to do my bidding."

"And you, Anna?" Ariel urges. "What can you do?"

"Well, I've only started to learn, so I'm not really that good at it yet. But. . ." Her eyes narrow, a smoldering red burning deep within, and in the air before her appears a small, popping fire, flame tongues darting about. "I think if. . . I just focus more. . ." Her will strengthens, the fire growing the tiniest amount. A little more. . . a little more. A massive conflagration swells, a fireball nearly reaching all of us. As one we all shrink back, stunned by the intensity. "Oops,"she offers. "Sorry."

Little Snow White. She's so frightened by this. Dear Rapunzel has such a tender heart with her, guiding her golden hair around her, a gentle embrace. "Jasmine?" I invite, "you're both among friends here." She turns her gaze to one of the golden statues around the central pool, its form stretching and tapering into a twist of flowing gold, then becoming a living armored form. With another thought, it turns to stone and shatters into rubble, collecting again at its setting, only to reform once again into the original golden statue.

"Settles it for me, alright," Merida gushes. "Let's send her up against 'ol Chernabog."

"If only it were so simple, Merida," Ariel amends. "For thousands of years, he has prepared his forces throughout this world. Their feet of iron and eyes of fire, they are anchored in the earth; unliving, ageless, asleep though dreaming under the turning skies, awaiting their dread lord's call. The power within them is the shadow of the power within us. Should magic be used too close to him and too soon, they will awaken, their cry of alarm bringing Chernabog swiftly against us."

"Heed my daughter's words, great champions," Triton warns in his return. The waters in the central pool rush up and swirl, his form emerging once again. "Merida, Pocahontas, step forward." King Triton deigns to approach the edge of the pool, and the craftsmanship of what he holds is nearly beyond words. "A gift for you, huntresses; To Merida, the bow of great Medusa, and to Pocahontas, the bow of Diana: daughter of Olympus."

My mind questions his claim, but my eyes know it's true. In Merida's hands is a bow fashioned as none before. The sweeping segmented curves of its ebony form shine like the shell of a skittering insect, but beneath that shell are silver filaments fine as hair, catching the light as jeweled tigerseye. The string is also black, a faint whisper of smoke wrapping around it when her hand touches. The quiver holds only five arrows, and is formed of flattened and rolled silver, the bright sheen lost under ages of deep tarnish.

"Hm. . ." Merida ponders. "Not a whole lot 'o arrows there."

"Summon them to return as you wish. They'll find you, my lady."

And the bow given to Pocahontas. It is beyond beautiful. Its main body is carved from ancient cypress, etched with ornate lines and forgotten symbols; a breathtaking filigree, laced over with flowing traces of gold. Anchored to the ends of the wooden body, the gleaming bow arms are a metal even brighter than gold, ornately formed and drawn out to the delicately curved tips. But something is missing.

"Lord Triton," Pocahontas pauses, "It has no string, and are there no arrows?"

"Oh, there is a string, my lady. And arrows?. . . it doesn't need them. Draw as you would."

His words confuse me, Pocahontas even more. Unsure, she sets the bow forward, holding steady, and bringing her fingers to where the string should be, a line of pure white light appears, startling her. Regaining her courage, she again touches to where the string should be, and watches the strange light as it shifts and breaks, reforming dots and lines every moment. Instinctively she draws back on the string, a searing bolt burning to life, ready to be unleashed in flight.

"Oh! No, no!" Triton urges. "Not in here. Ease the string to rest, princess."

"Lord Triton, this gift. It is too much, too powerful for a simple soul as me." She moves to hand it back, but Triton stops her.

"I only regret I cannot give even greater gifts, to you all. The struggle ahead will reach to the very skies, across the world, and to the depth of your soul. It must be all of you, together, bringing to bear what gifts you have been given. It was providence, you see, not chance, that gave the life you have known; preparing you for this crucial hour. For evil, wheresoever it makes its nest, has only one form. But good is light, no matter the form in which it lives. This small truth shared among you may be the sliver of hope that's needed. For together, you are that which is good, and best, in us all."

This is too much for me, for us. . . to accept. I must ask him this. "Lord Triton, some of us barely know our powers, and barely know how to use them. Is there time for us to learn? Is there some place where we can learn?"

"My dear, it has been awaiting since before you arrived. Ariel? If you please."

Part Four

Gauntlet

XXIII

Down a curving staircase I lead them, and along a lower hall to a wide shell door, the chitinous surface allowing some light from the room beyond to filter through. At our approach, the shell hides away into the ceiling, the sight of what awaits us just as enticing as fearsome. Throughout the room, from every corner, between every wall, forged works of such wonder, meant to test strength, quicken speed, sharpen instinct, and encourage strategy. I've seen the regimen required for our palace guards, but this goes far beyond such limits. "Father! This is wonderful!" Though Aurora is more hesitant, both Phillip and Aladdin are immediately drawn to the armory, stocked with swords and shields. An ornate curved blade catches Aladdin's eye, but Phillip chooses a long sword and tests it, moving faster than he expected.

"They're so light. I've never held a sword so light before."

"The best of our master smiths. They are forged from a pale yellow metal drawn from the burning vents that surround my empire. It is both strong and light, keeping a sharp edge."

Hesitant at first, but growing bolder, Tarzan engages first one station with a nudge, then another with a strong push. I can see some guidance will be needed. In a blur of movement, he leaps high into the air, grasping an overhead bar, launching from one to the next as easily as drawing breath. Seeing their brother's display of skill astonishes both Anna and Elsa, their smile of approval urging him on.

"Tarzan? Wow!" Anna gushes, "How do you do that?"

"I was raised by the apes, on my island where Jane and I live. So it is my nature."

Still in his creature form, Adam spies an area filled with weighted discs, some with a handle, some with a bar through them, all for building strength. Strange to see so fearful a creature actually smile.

"My lady? Are we allowed to use these too?" His massive hands lift one of the discs, his face brightened by its ponderous weight. The odd creature, Sully, wanders up beside him and asks, "Hey uh, wanna see who can lift the most?"

"This room is for each of you, and all of you," I assure, then remind: "But be warned: there is true danger here for the careless, or over-confident." Casting a suspicious glare over them as my father used to cast over me in my early years, I invite them to begin. Aladdin and Phillip are already going through their favored sword moves, while Merida and Pocahontas stack rough-hewn rolls of dead coral into a target at the far end of the room. Overcoming her timid nature, Aurora joins Elsa and Anna, Jasmine and Cinderella on the right side of the room where a wall is stacked with great boulders from the ocean depths. Immediately each of them in turn shows a small bit of their magical ability, encouraging one another, guiding, praising. Even young Rapunzel begins to test the strength of her glorious hair, moving up into the support structures alongside Tarzan.

Still, I realize that four souls here have no great power, nor even warrior skill: Mary, Belle, little Snow White. . . and me.

XXIV

When I wander back up the staircase to the council room, my father is there, his eyes locked to the viewing sphere. On seeing me, the sights within it fade, returning to black.

"Father, you're wise in all things. You see beyond the present moment, and find paths through doubt I'm still learning to trust. But some of these gathered here, some of us have no real power, and are not warriors. The old one, and Belle, Snow White, and. . . and me."

Why do your eyes set so heavy on me? How have my words hurt you?

"Do not think, Ariel, not for one moment, that your father would cast you into battle unarmed. I should indeed see my empire crumble before I allow that." From the nothingness of empty air his hand draws forth the mighty trident, its smoldering shape growing full, wreathed in golden light. "You are my noble daughter, favored above all my kingdom. Into battle you shall carry the mighty standard of Triton: ruler of the seas." As if it were a newborn, he tenderly hands the unbearable power over to me. In the moment I touch its arcane surface, a fire surges through both it and my hand, uniting us. "But, father, if I take this, you'll be powerless. If Chernabog's armies are approaching. . . "

"No, my child. My power rests within me. The trident. . . is its own. And Chernabog's forces descend upon all this world. Each realm must stand on its own as best it may. Some may rise, some may fall, but there is one hope to stop the tide of ruin, to undo the source of that evil: he must be faced by the brave souls brought to this place. Go now, Ariel. Take my gift. Go to the abyssal trenches beyond the northern plain. Go, and learn its mighty ways."

Without a moment's hesitation, I dive into the central pool, my legs again forming into a powerful finned tail. Accompanied by two royal guards, we bolt through the frigid waters for the far north of the city. Faster, my heart, faster! I will not fail, father. I will not fail.

XXV

Though unease holds over us all, it's good to see my beloved Adam so alive as this. He and the strange one, Sully, test their strength, heaving greater and greater weight from the floor. Part of me likes seeing you find a good and needed use for your other self. Your eyes catch me watching. I wish I could hide my blush. You have ever been beautiful to me, my Adam, as what you were, as what you are. For I saw through to your very heart, and I have loved you in every breath after. I can't imagine such darkness is near. Looking out over the city beyond this window, I only wish. . . wait. Is that Ariel? Where is she going?

"Sully, we should try another disc on each side. I'm sure no-one has ever lifted as much as we have now."

"Well, I got short legs, a good bit of muscle. It's all about leverage. . . you know."

"Sully, I have a thought. If we lift together, we could lift every one of these weights!"

Off in the far end of the room, Pocahontas and Merida have found their stride with the bows given by Triton. Both are strangely the opposite of the other: each arrow Merida unleashes gives a tiny shriek through the air but is utterly unseen, while Pocahontas' every arrow is nearly silent, though bright as a captured slice of the sun. Tarzan and Rapunzel both wend their way through the structures above and around the room, her agility growing truly by leaps and bounds.

And the others, gathered in the stone alcove. The entire area is lit with strange lights of dancing colors as they test and retest their powers, learning the subtleties of each. Seeing them endeavor so much, I can't but feel helpless, or at least unnecessary. But King Triton has seen more than all of us. There is some purpose for each of us here, and my heart tells me we'll find out soon enough, whether we want to or not.

XXVI

Try as we might, I fear some of us have so much to learn. Before I'd hurt Anna so long ago, I had used my powers for years, and understood what I could do. But the others here, Cinderella, Anna, Aurora; they struggle to understand and control, but aren't giving up. But I am surprised by one of them. "I wish I had your control, Jasmine. It doesn't even seem difficult for you."

"It's not difficult, but then, none of it is done by me. Look at them, Elsa. Each of them must summon their will, must focus their thought on what they want to happen. I don't have that. In my mind, it's as though I 'ask' the genie, and so far, being a faithful friend, it has agreed to my requests."

"So far? You're saying the genie could deny you what ask of it?"

"I feel it could," she ponders, touching the amulet. "It is no longer bound by others."

"You set it free."

"Well, not as much as that. It is not bound to the will of another, but the genie is still bound to its gateway into this world: the lamp he reformed into my amulet."

"Are you afraid to free it, Jasmine? What would happen if it were?"

"I don't know, Elsa, but I fear letting go of that power."

A bright flare of orange light captures my eyes. Anna. She's pushing her limits. Fire covers her form, lifting her a little above the others, and with a small shift of her thought, she begins to drift over them, getting closer to the wall. "Anna! . . ." I call, my protective instinct urging me to rush to her aid, but she gathers her focus, pulling away from the boulders surrounding them all. It's strange to see Aurora, though. When she uses the power given to her by her fairy godmothers, she becomes someone else entirely. Or just not herself at all. She does try to summon that power herself, though. Time will tell. "Cinderella? Have you found something more with your ability?"

"Why yes, I think so. It's not that strong really, but. . . here." Separating from the rest, she moves to the boulder wall surrounding the room, and searches each one of the jagged, dark stones. Pressing her hands flat against it, she concentrates, a rumble growing each heartbeat, until a final push edges the stone back. "There, did you see? It feels like a kind of wall when I do that."

"Can ya' fly? That'd be so great!" Anna gushes, drifting back to the floor.

"No, I don't think I can. At least not yet, anyway. I will keep trying though."

It's good to see she discovered something new. "Aurora? Have you learned more?"

"Only what I feel, rather like Cinderella. When I allow my mothers' power to flow through me, it's like I see past the here and now, like I see how all of this, how everything, works together. And. . . and I'm no longer afraid. I see something to be done, and I choose it, without sadness, without fear. I feel. . . totally at peace."

In Jasmine's eyes, I see her longing for so great a gift as the peace Aurora so easily spoke of. I imagine that's something we both share. At the far wall, Belle and Snow White gaze out the crystal window, bright flashes having caught their eye.

"Belle? What is it?" We huddle together around them, trying to catch a glimpse.

"It's Ariel! Just a short time ago, I saw her with two guards dart away from the city, heading out there, toward those lights. I don't. . . is it Chernabog? Is it here?"

Jasmine's eyes narrow, her thought drifting from us as she touches the amulet. "No. It is Ariel. She is given her father's trident. She learns its power, just as we learn here."

My heart nearly stopped. At once I was ready to grab Anna's hand and flee from this city as fast as I could. But I also felt something sharp and very strong awaken within me, something that would become a perfect weapon to protect her, and all those this evil would consume. "We're safe my friends, for now. We must learn as fast as we can." As one, each of them redoubles their effort and gathers their will. All but one.

"Where's Jasmine?"

XXVII

Father. Is this the power you've forever known? There is nothing like it in Atlantica. With less than a thought, I unleash the energies within your trident, and the great canyons of the abyssal trench break as an aged shell before a storm. With a single whim, a lance of purest light shines toward the broken cliff of the sea floor, untold measures of ancient stone shattered into sand before my eyes. Will it be enough? Will we be enough?

"I certainly hope so, princess."

Who? In less than an instant, the trident is aimed at the voice, held ready. "Oh! Jasmine. How did you. . ." but my question dies unspoken. About Jasmine's form, a thin cloud of glowing blue vapor, tendrils and streaks pulled by the tide until they pull close once again.

"So much power in that trident, Ariel. Truly a weapon worthy of Olympus."

"Until this moment, I never realized, Jasmine. All my life, I knew my father was different. I saw that he ruled his empire with wisdom beyond understanding, and was honored and loved by all. Not until I met Eric did I see the true power of my father. It was terrifying. I saw Triton was the most powerful being of the realm, and after my mother's death, he was utterly alone. I and my sisters were all he had in the entire world."

"Ariel? Why does it sadden you?"

"Because. . . the years after I fell in love taught me many truths, that when Triton forbade me to ever again see Eric, it wasn't because he feared Eric would hurt me. It was truly because my father feared I would no longer love him." I'm glad the others aren't here. And I'm glad the ocean hides my tears. My city. It is so far away. The turmoil and fear of this task all seems. . . so far away. But. . . there. A shining light descends toward it. What is. . . the royal chariot! Someone is brought before my father. "Jasmine! Quickly! To Atlantica."

XXVIII

The chariot. It rests in the council chamber pool. Has it begun? Has the world above fallen? My mind's eye. Fly from me, such thoughts. My rise through the central pool is less graceful than my departure, having to regain balance with my legs.

"Father! Father where. . ."

"Ariel?"

And hearing that one voice, Eric's voice, my heart floods over, and there is no more ocean to hide my tears. Tears of joy, tears of thankfulness. I want only to keep my arms about you, and yours about me, my husband. Nothing else matters but this. Thank you, Father. By all that is light, thank you. "My love, have you fled the surface world? Has the battle begun?"

"Triton sent for me. My people aren't warriors, but they're strong. They have a chance. But your father and I both feel I'd be better off here."

"My love," I confess, caressing his beautiful face, "If my heart in this moment were an army, nothing could stand before us. Many of us have gathered with strange and wonderful powers. Come with me!" Quickly we descend the staircase to the lower hall, and pass beyond the shell doorway. In Eric's hold of my hand, I can tell his awe, his amazement at the sight; the enchanted bows of Merida and Pocahontas, the effortless agility of mighty Tarzan and graceful Rapunzel, the tests of strength between Adam and Sully, to the dizzying bursts of light and earth-rumbling feats of the empowered five; Cinderella, Aurora, Jasmine, Anna, and Elsa.

"Ariel! Who? Who are these people?"

I'm about to answer when I realize one of us is missing.

XXVIII

Oh, my aching bones. I'm glad his majesty is up here. I wouldn't want to make the trip twice. So worried, his ancient, noble face, watching the viewing sphere. "What is it you see, my Lord? Are his armies on the move?"His long sigh tells me much.

"Noble One. The forces of Chernabog set themselves across the skies and earth more each day. Even now, they crawl across the face of the moon, to hide away that pale light. Throughout all the lands, his forces strike, some failing, some victorious. But the defeats matter not. The tide ebbs, only to flow again, and ever. . . again."

"Lord Triton, your family. Great Olympus. Will even they be attacked as well?"

"Chernabog will rise against Olympus, and he will fail. But his purpose is not victory. It is to distract my family, to keep them locked in defense of their home until his evil has passed them by, anchoring his talons throughout this world." Turning away from the vision sphere, the image fades. "But at last we have in our midst the power to stand against him. If your quest had failed, Noble One, all would be lost. And once, it truly almost was."

"My lord?"

"Chernabog saw your travels for my bidding, even when they began. He sought to find a way to corrupt your heart, to turn you away, to even make you give in to despair. But you remained steadfast, my friend. He could not place a shadow over your soul, and so he instead sought to destroy you. It was the foul hand of Chernabog, reaching out across time and space, to even before I knew you, which cast you and your friend from your path one day. I watched, helpless to intervene, when your friend fell upon a world beyond even my power, but your noble heart never faltered."

"If I may ask, my lord, I've always wondered: why do you call me 'noble one'?"

"Because all your life you searched for your friend, the Outsider. You sought only to find him, and dedicated your life to it. A truly noble sacrifice."

"Hm. Or, from another point of view, it might be I was just very selfish, yes?"

"Perhaps. Or perhaps you gave up companionship, gave up family, gave up certainty, gave up comfort and ease, gave up peace of mind and heart for the hope to bring your beloved friend safely home. That is a truly noble spirit, my dear and very tenacious old friend, and I only regret I couldn't have done more for you, and for him."

"Your majesty, you said something before, and just now, about him being an 'Outsider."

"Yes, dear Mary. You know that your friend is not of your world. He comes from beyond, from the world of dreams. That is why his appearance is so different; that is why he has not aged in all the long years of your search. It gladdens my heart you found him at last. It was the attack of Chernabog himself that tore the two of you apart so very long ago. He knows the nature of your friend. He knows the Outsider should not be here, and that concerns Chernabog greatly. But even though this is not Sully's place, he is here for a reason. Trust in that hope, Mary. Trust in it beyond all else."

XXIX

I am glad for the silence in these golden halls. Seeing lady Ariel with her love was too much for my heart. John. . . oh my dear one. Have you forgotten me? Are you standing against this shadow, even now? It is beyond what I can bear. But I must, for no choice is given me.

Someone approaches.

"Hey, uh, Pocahontas? You alright there, girl?"

"Merida, yes. Forgive me. I was. . . I was just thinking."

"Oh, you can't hide a sad face from me. What is it? You thinkin' 'bout yur fella?"

I hoped it wasn't so easy to see. "From the moment I wake." Gather yourself, Matoaka. Return with her to our friends. "What of you, Merida? Is there one you love?"

"No, not yet anyway. How I see it, I figure I'll find a good love one day. And when I do, he better be right darn ready!"

My laugh surprises me! Your nature lightens my heart, wild one. Taking my arm with yours, I'm reminded of my own courage.

"Pocahontas, some of the others there, Cinderella, Rapunzel, Anna. . . their heart longs for the men they love as well. I can see it in their eyes. This is their stand, for their men, for their land, just as you for yours. So we face this, together, and only together."

XXX

Midnight. It must be. I feel it even without the genie telling me. The nearly silent halls beyond the council chamber no longer bustle with the others' footsteps and voices. Weary from our learning, most have chosen to rest. Aladdin. Look how peacefully you sleep.

"I wish I could lay aside all my cares so easily," I whisper, "and find rest beside you."

My thoughts turn again and again toward our city, toward what might. . .

"I'm not really asleep yet, Jasmine. I'm. . . I'm just trying to help you feel at peace."

Dear love. A kiss to your hand for your kind heart. "I fear for our lands, Aladdin."

"I know. But. . . we've fought off invaders for thousands of years. Our people are strong. Our learning is strong. I believe in them. But I believe in this, even more."

Your dark eyes, they pierce into mine. "Aladdin, the genie speaks to me. He tells me of the march of shadows over all things. He tells me that soon, Chernabog's forces will fall from the skies, falling as rain that never ends." I seek out your strong face with my touch. In past days, it comforted my heart, but now it flees from me. "How do we stand against this?" Your hand is warm over mine, keeping me there so tender.

"I don't know, my bright flower. I do not know."

XXXI

Despite the intensity of the training we've gone through, Anna and I have no wish to sleep. The others have retreated to their rooms, their door closed, except for the one chosen by Rapunzel and Snow White. I remember that from my very early years, how it made me feel secure to hear my mother and father speak in hushed tones for awhile before falling asleep. And dear cousin, look at you. Your golden hair dimly lights the room for your little friend, helping her feel safe. It makes me glad to see you're less reserved about your abilities than Anna or me. And you, Anna! What excitement! Unveiling your powers and being encouraged to use them, your joy is contagious.

"It seemed like every time I created some flame, or fire, or something, it got stronger, and easier in a way. I mean, it's not as much as yours, but I really feel it, you know?"

"I do, actually! For me, it's like the feeling. . . is the ice itself. Does that make sense?"

"Mm. . . no. Not yet at least. But, what feeling is it when you create something 'alive', Elsa? Because, I mean, that's what I really want to try."

"I've never thought about it before. It's. . . I guess, it feels like when you want to give a gift to someone. My heart feels, happy."

"Hmm. I'll have to give it a try and see. I'm not sure a person made of fire would bring a whole lot of 'happy' to others. Maybe tomorrow I'll really work on it. Elsa? What is it?"

"I can see how tired you are, little bug. Your eyes are sleepy like after we played all day in the first snow each winter." Why did I say that? My heart's going to break if I don't do this. Taking your hand with mine, I let down the wall around me. "Anna. . . can you ever. . . ever. . . forgive me?" Beloved sister: my soul is in your hands.

XXXII

A magnificent kingdom. A treasure unlike any other. Aurora has never held fascination with such things, favoring the wilds and all creatures of nature. Even now she sleeps through the watches of the night, and well-earned. Each of them with magic have discovered much of their strength, and tomorrow to it again. Still, a fearful sight at first, seeing her manner taken away, replaced with something. . . other. The forces that hold to her. . . in my heart I fear them, as much for empowering her, as making me helpless. All I hold is my sword and my shield. How terrible a fate that so gentle a woman should stand before such evil.

"Prince Phillip?"

"Lady Cinderella. The hour is late. Haven't you slept?" I'm grateful for different thoughts.

"I did, at least some." She steps closer to the crystal wall, joining me in looking out over the far reaches of Atlantica, and continues. "Seeing the city like this, I can't imagine anything could be wrong. It's all so peaceful and sublime."

"Peaceful. . . yes. A lifetime of peace, deserved by those who endured hardship, or cruelty." With my words, I offer an understanding nod, hoping not to offend.

"Yes, my prince. I know my servants went to other kingdoms, after I married Charlemagne. I know they may have spoken to others of my stepmother, and stepsisters. But even though they were cruel so many years, I never hated them. I never lashed out, even from the first moment, even when I was made royalty. Even when their lives were in my hands."

"Lady Cinderella. What evidence of grace you truly are, your heart bright as a sunbeam."

". . . it's because I forgave them, you see."

XXXIII

Very quiet in the halls. It is nighttime, for the great city, and for us. The others sleep for many hours, unlike my ape family. During the night they wake and sleep many times, keeping watch. Me too. I'm glad the great king allows us to roam. So much to see here. A voice comes from the end of the hall. It is from the council chamber. A soft, quiet voice. Who? I make no sound, going quickly. Slowly I look into the room and see my sisters.

Sitting together, Elsa is turned away from Anna. And the voice I hear, is Anna. She sings to Elsa and braids her long white hair. She sings to her a soft song, gentle and kind. It is like songs sung to my ape mother, Kala, by Kerchak's other wives, when her heart was heavy. Elsa, my ice sister. Is your heart also heavy? Do your tears fall for one you love? Does Anna remind you of their spirit with her song? I'm glad you have our fire sister Anna to love you. I will be here for you both, my great sisters. I will keep watch over you, the best I can.

XXXIV

There's little time left before dawn. I don't know what they'll think of these garments. My father's armorers made each just for its wearer, with respect to their power, or how they move. They must have something more than the clothes on their backs. I'm assured these are the armorers' finest works, our stores of pale yellow metal drawn from the deep vents nearly gone entirely. And such works! My eye is caught by each as I set them in place beside every chamber door. The finest chain mail, this one with layers of rich emerald scales, another with pearlescent shell, another with curves of crystal. Even mine is beyond expectations, with scales taken by my father's hand from a shadowed sea god in R'yleh.

These will give us greater strength. This will give us a greater chance. Oh, father. Is there? For too many days you don't sleep, your tireless eyes watching the waters above, ready to sound the call of alarm, to wake your empire, to rise against the night. With the dawn, each of us will begin training anew, our effort redoubled. Still, some of us have no place here, no power, not even skills. I fear for them. And. . . wait. Why isn't there armor for Eric?

"They're amazing, Ariel." Belle stands in her and Adam's doorway, gazing at the garment intended for her, and she adds, "I'll be honored to wear this, tomorrow."

"Lady Belle, when the battle begins, it would be best for you and Mary and Snow White to stay as guarded as possible. If you've never seen so terrible a thing, it's truly frightening."

"Yes, I imagine it would be. I've never seen the face of war, my lady. But. . . in my heart, I know in this world at least, something can't exist without an opposite. The storm and the calm. The sun, and the shadow. The stars, and the night that surrounds them. I've known perfect peace, and joy and light and hope, and though I've only seen a little of the other side, I know it's out there, somewhere. When we stand and face those things, the good I have known will burn all the brighter, and my heart will be ready."

XXXV

I overslept. Anna and I both did. What a surprise though, finding these magnificent garments waiting for us. For all of us, actually! Light as can be, it moves like a second skin, and. . . catching a glance in the mirror, I even like the color. Okay. Time to go. "Anna?" Looking out into the council chamber, I see she's already there.

"I love this!" she gushes, flexing her arms. "I feel strong! . . . Does it look awesome or what? Can't wait to try it out."

Indeed it does. But I've never seen such large pieces of gemstones before. Her main armor plates are made from what seems like fire opal inlaid with deep red garnets. Even in the low light of the council chamber it seems to burn, only encouraging her. Her hands already glow red, barely holding in her excitement. And when I step into the light, her eyes lock to me, and I have to ask: "Well, what do you think? Is it me?"

"Oh. Wow!" She rushes over, touching the layers, shaped so different from hers. "It's got all those little sparklies, and those silver edges, and pearls. Elsa. . . it's amazing."

"I have to admit, you're right about one thing: it does make me feel strong. Let's go!" Hand in hand we hurry down to the lower level, and when the shell door rises up, the sight we see stops us dead in our tracks. All of them are there, ready, each of them with their own raiment, a dizzying sweep of deep shimmering color and form. The shambles of our appearance since arriving here is gone. Watching us in approval from the overhead structures, our brother Tarzan bears the least armor, with shoulder guards and grieves to cover his arms, and a segmented torso of the strange silver-gold metal. On each shoulder in gold is overlaid a masterful carving of a mighty ape, a tribute to his adoptive family.

Jasmine and Aladdin wear armor made of layer on layer of uncut blue sapphire, the edges lined in aquamarine. For Cinderella, subtle curves of crystal and delicate silver flow about her form, embedded with countless tiny moonstones. Aurora's is breathtaking, made of formed pieces of multicolored dark opal, inlaid with elegant shapes of white opal, and in the center of her chest a brilliant star sapphire. Phillip's armor is more traditional of course, though forged under the same masterful hand as the rest.

Ariel's armor is stunning, altogether different than ours, made from large scales of a deep metallic green and blue, joined together with chain mail of the same silver-gold metal as ours. And even as we gaze at it, the lines and colors in each scale. . . they change. For Pocahontas, every shape of armor is made of gleaming dark hematite, the breastplate inlaid with the shape of an ancient oak in purest emerald. For cousin Rapunzel, armor made from uncut pink sapphire, lined with gold as bright as her hair.

For Merida, flowing shapes of tourmaline and topaz, inlaid with silver-edged wild ivy in gold. For Belle, layer upon layer of etched gold and silver, and for Adam, a conjuration of forms arranged to fit the man or the beast. For little Snow White, the simplest placard of blue opal for her chest, inset with cut rubies at the collar. And flowing down over her legs a layered tasset of silver-gold chain mail.

Sully, with his odd, hulking shape, is still closed about with forms of silver, edged with black hematite. Even little Mary has her own of pink gold and rubies, though she chafes of it.

And standing before them, the overwhelming immensity of our task weighs over me. Most of them. . . they're so young. All the bright promise of their life is ahead of them, few if any having seen what we may soon face. Their eyes shine with strength and courage, despite lingering doubt in themselves. What are we to do? How are we to stand against this? My heart grows faint with uncertainty, my thoughts whispering defeat in my ear. And it is the tiniest touch of a small hand to mine which quiets my thoughts and gives me hope.

Little Snow White. She has taken my hand, and reaches out to cousin Rapunzel, and she to my brother Tarzan, and from one to the next, hand takes hand, and heart joins with heart, courage and spirit joining us together. . . as one.

XXXVI

Hours have flown by, unnoticed. By them, at least. I'm familiar with my ice powers, but it's good to see them learning. No longer challenged by honing their accuracy against unmoving targets, Merida and Pocahontas let arrows fly at a furious speed toward zig zagging pieces of soft coral under Aurora's magical control. Aladdin divides his time between climbing stacked boulders quicker and quicker, then sword sparring with Phillip. Tarzan and Rapunzel plan increasingly complex paths through the room's obstacles, racing one another in speed and cleverness to the finish.

Cinderella found she can create a barrier, a shield of light, and the stronger she focuses her power, the larger it becomes. It's nearly blinding, but can stop Merida's arrows and even Pocahontas'. And Jasmine doesn't seem tested at all. With the genie making her every thought into reality, there seems nothing she can't do. There must be a limit to its power, no matter how far.

Ariel has gone to the abyssal trench again, the bright flashes of power she unleashes from the trident getting stronger, and their rumbling being felt in the ground below.

Giving in to Adam's request, I made a snow guardian for him to fight, but twice now had to dissolve it, since the fight got too close to us. They're in a corner now, trying to stay in a designated ring of stones. We'll see. Adam's power as a beast is beyond what he likely knows, and for that, I'd normally be grateful. But we need all the strength we can find. Belle. She watches him with so much concern, and I imagine more than a little frustration. She was never touched with magic, never even used it. I fear for her as much as for Snow White, or even Mary. Not that the old one is helpless. She distracts Snow White, making small objects disappear and reappear, or show up across the entire room. It might be useful.

Anna has moved into a full stride with her powers. The rest of us had to leave the boulder walled room to her, so intense her fire has grown. When pushing her limits, we had to cover behind a wall, Cinderella's shield guarding us from the unbearable heat. When it was over, the boulders glowed red hot, the gold floor beneath her actually molten. A quick-freeze turned it back to solid, though mushed. Hopefully Triton won't notice.

And me. Knowing my powers as I do, there isn't much left to discover. Still, there are a few unknown areas. One, is trying to control ice forms at a very tiny level, as small as a thorn, or sharp a knife edge, or thin as a needle. The other, is creating large amounts of solid ice as quickly as I can. It's more tiring, but at least it's something new. And Anna gave me another idea, asking: "Can you make the ice harder like rock?" I found that if I make a shape of solid ice and think of it squeezing into itself, the ice actually does become stronger, but not quite strong as rock.

"Queen Elsa?" a quiet voice asks.

"Tarzan, I didn't even hear you. Please, sit with me." He moves down the wall, his eyes studying me as he draws close. "How is your training, Tarzan?"

"The training is good, and difficult. I like that. It makes me stronger. For us all."

Try as I do to feel only joy, there remains a shadow over me each time I search his eyes. I don't know how to quiet these voices; don't know how to cast aside so many years of pain.

"Elsa, my ice sister. When you see me, what hurts your heart so much?"

I'm astonished to see someone's hand. . . my hand. . . reach out and gently touch his face.

"Your eyes, Tarzan. . . I see our father's eyes." My tears fall, equally from light and darkness, but at least, for the first time since I was a child, the light wins out. "For years after our parents were lost at sea, I would steal away each night into the great hall, and light the room, staring for hours at the painting of them both. Their portrait is burned into my mind and heart. And when I saw you, it was like that painting came to life."

"My great sister, it's the same for me. The painting I have. . . it was made by our mother, after they found their island. And you are perfectly her, Elsa."

So strange to have my heart breaking and filled with light at once. I can only smile through my tears, my hands again resting on his strong face, so much the living ghost of my pappa.

"Elsa, would you let me, let Jane and me, visit you in your kingdom? I want to see the halls of our parents. I want to see the land where my sisters grew up. I want to see the eyes of our parents as you saw them."

"Yes, Tarzan. Our dear brother, yes. A thousand times, yes. We'll find a way. And not some far away time, either. I need. . . me and Anna both. . . need this. And, will you bring the books you found, with our parents' writings?"My heart is gladdened by your smile.

"I will show you all I found, Elsa! I want you to tell me everything you can. And maybe one day you can both visit my island. It would be the greatest honor for me."

"That will be carved in stone the hour this is over, Tarzan. I promise you with. . ."

. . . wait. Triton's voice.

"Champions! To the council chamber, this moment! Let none stand in your way!"

The alarm in his majesty's voice grips me with dread, for even though I have mastery over ice and snow, my heart still freezes under the touch of fear. Courage to my soul, for us all.

Part Five

Maelstrom

XXXVII

Racing up the stairwell to the council chamber, we see lord Triton, his gaze fixed on the vision sphere. In its face, the dark depths of the ocean are made bright for us to see, the great barren plains of the sea floor stretching out forever.

"Your majesty, we're here," Phillip begins, taking Aurora's hand and stepping forward. All eyes are bound to the vision sphere, none daring to speak further.

His ancient eyes seeing more than any of us, Triton mutters, "It begins." My heart is in my throat as I search the sea's clouded depths. And there. . . one tiny tendril of green, deep and sickly as a rotten thing, reaches lazily out of the gray, slowly falling from the world above. . . then another. . . three more, tens more, hundreds more.

A bolt of panic burns through me. "Lord Triton. . . where?"

"Chernabog's forces have yet to reach the outer borders of the Atlantican empire. Whether by chance or providence, they fall now toward the forgotten city of R'yleh. For that, I have at least some small satisfaction, and nearly pity for his armies."

"Pity?" Adam huffs within his beast form, his neck-hairs bristling. "Why have pity for Chernabog? Why pity his soldiers?"

"Because I believe he is unaware what his actions will awaken: a shadowed, monstrous deity from beyond this world. They will find less victory against what lies sleeping in R'yleh than dust would find victory against a falling mountain."

"Father!" Ariel demands, bolting in, the trident blazing. "Is he here? Is Chernabog upon us?" Her eyes are set with a grim resolve that steals away my breath. It is the same resolve I beheld in my own eyes when I once believed all was lost to me.

"No, Ariel. The waters above Atlantica are clear as yet. But time is against us."

"My king," Mary interrupts, "what would you have us do?"

"At this moment," Triton continues, "all defenses are being brought to life. From every point of Atlantica our might will turn back this hateful tide. But your fight will not be made here, great champions; it will be fought. . . in the world above. You must depart at once."

"The. . . the world above? Father? Father you can't mean for us, for me to leave. I won't!"

My heart tells me this is between them. As one we move toward the shining arch that brought us from our homes to the edge of the world a seeming lifetime ago, and as flash after flash burns one upon the other, we are carried from this golden city of dreams. I dare one last glance to the council chamber, Triton and Ariel still facing one another in silence, awaiting my departure. But there is no turning from this: our sacred trust. And with it, our fate is sealed.

I step into the arch and take Mary's hand, bracing my heart, bracing my soul for what lies in wait for me and for us all in the time ahead. A burst of light. A rush of wind. A single prayer.

And we are gone.

XXXVIII

Not again, my child. Not this. . . not again. "You must stand with them, Ariel. You must."

"My place is here, father. With my city, with my husband, and with you."

"Atlantica will turn away Chernabog's forces, Ariel. Even now I summon the myriad of life within the seas to our aid. My will awakens unnamed giants slumbering for ages in the deep, their strength second only to my kin."

Again the flash of light from your final return, Noble One. Save my heart. Take my child quickly from this place. "Ariel, do not fear. Your husband will be leagues safer in my keep than in the world above. You must trust this, my child. You must trust me." Why do you break down in my embrace? It quieted your tears from your earliest days.

"And if. . . if the city falls? If our forces here fall before him, and Eric is taken from me, and you are taken from me. . . pappa. . . I will lose both sides of my heart."

Give me strength. Give me strength. "Ariel, my little lioness. The battle was never to be won with us. Stand with your companions. End the nightmare of Chernabog over all life." Tearing away from my embrace, you stand in the archway, and I'd give all my kingdom to hold you once again. The light. It takes you from me and there is no reason to stay strong any longer. You don't see what I see. You were prepared for this by each day you've lived.

"My king," a small voice calls from the shadows, ". . . do we truly stand a chance?"

"Sebastian. Only the chance given all others, my friend. The true battle lies with them."

XXXIX

Again we stand at the edge of the world, surrounded by the skeleton of this broken castle. My sister is beside me, the others standing close, and there is something more than the cruel wind, more than the sea mist carried upon it, more than the cold howl of the shadowed night which reaches my heart and chills our bones: the dread within me is mirrored in the eyes of each of us, realizing we don't know what to do.

Little Snow White is first to turn her gaze to the heavens, and what I see in her eyes freezes even my heart. Searching the sky, each voice falls silent. A thousand tendrils crawl across the face of the moon, the fouled legions of Chernabog consuming all light, all hope, hiding it away forever.

"Where do we go?" Adam huffs. "How do we make our stand against this?"

The wind surges stronger to the west and I struggle to be heard above it. "We have to find him!" In answer to me, rolling thunder reaches our ears from over the horizon, a vile rain falling from gathering clouds that blot out the sky, covering the earth in a mindless swarm. They are here. As the first few drops before the flood, just one. . . then two. . . then ten, and fifty and a hundred ghost soldiers touches to the ground and rising, with burning green eyes and ash-gray armor filled with an evil half-life.

A flash of light nearly stops my heart. Pocahontas. Without a moment's hesitation she has begun the defense, arrow after blinding arrow crashing through their wraith bodies. Cinderella has cast up a small shield, the onrushing armies confused just long enough for Ariel to burn a path through them with her trident, or Aurora to sweep them aside. But still, their numbers surge greater. "We can't stay here!" I warn. "We can't just fight off his armies! We have to find him!" In moments, we're surrounded on all sides.

"How do we do that?"Anna demands, her fire blasts turning an onrushing charge.

It's then I see Jasmine, her touch testing the amulet. And to my fright, I see one of the enemy. . . notices. With a single thought I create a pillar of ice within that one's armor, and expand it at once, the soldier breaking into rubble. A thin wisp of green fog rises from its shattered shell and vanishes.

"I know where to find him!" Jasmine calls to us. Turning toward Mary, she asks, "Old One, can you take us to his domain?"

With a nod, Mary takes Jasmine's hand and we begin our retreat to the arch. "Remember, all of you! We must not use our powers until we are close enough for a strike against Chernabog! We may have only one chance, so we must be sure!" The strange power the gate holds takes us one after the other from this impossible fight. With each departure of our friends, Chernabog's legions rush closer and closer until the last of us is gone, and his armies' endless numbers rush over the empty stones as enraged ants over a careless foot.

Merida and Phillip step first from the gate, her bow at the ready, and his shield and sword held in place for a lance attack. Ariel and Aladdin are behind them, her trident and his sword prepared for a fight. The door of the intended closet crashes open, and we find ourselves exiting the cramped space, prepared for any attack. There is only silence. I let go Anna's hand and cautiously accept that for now, we appear safe.

"Well that's weird," Sully offers, taking in the unexpected stillness. "Never stepped through an abandoned doorway before."

Other than his words and a lamenting wind sifting through shattered windows, not another sound is heard. On the nightstand of the bed before us, a glass of dusty water rests alongside a brass candleholder, the wax from the last candle it held having melted into beaded icicles and odd puddles over the unvarnished wood below. The sheets rest half on the bed and half over the floor, partly drawn toward the bedroom doorway.

"It looks like someone just came in and grabbed. . ." Aladdin begins, but he falls silent.

Snow White. Rapunzel. I don't want them in here. "We have to leave this place." I take their hands and lead them quickly from this room, but I see the same fate met the souls in the other rooms as well. They were all stolen from their home. Reaching the front door, Merida and Phillip again move ahead and emerge into the dark of night. Her arrow and his sword await any hint of threat, but there is nothing and no-one here. Indeed, having to fight off an enemy would be welcomed, if only to be spared what we discover.

The doors and windows of every home are broken open, and from every one, over the grasses and dirt around them, through the muddied streets we find the last sign of the townspeople. Merging into a wandering, aimless path, there are endless drag marks made by terrified hands; neighbors fighting for neighbors, husbands for wives, parents for children. Footsteps cause my heart to stop. Snow White. She moves to the edge of our group and from the trampled grass, she picks something up. In her pale hands, she holds a tiny doll, one of its little feet torn open, the unwound cloth inside spilling out. Across the arm and face are dark streaks and stains, the strings of hair on its head matted together. Her eyes won't leave its pitiful ruin, and trying to wipe it clean she whispers, "I'm sorry."

Careful to stay in deeper shadows, we're able to tell more about our surroundings. Many homes seem as though they'd burned at some point, but not a trace of smoke is seen. "Whatever happened here, it was days ago, at the least."

"Elsa," Tarzan urges, "it would be wise to keep Belle, Mary, Rapunzel, and Snow White in the center of us, to keep them safe."

Without a word we move them into our midst, Phillip, Merida, and Aladdin defending their own third of the group, and as one we move forward. From the far distance, faint rumblings shake the ground, but the homes and fallen buildings hide the source from our sight. Past neighborhood after neighborhood, street after street, we find our way, each moment a seeming eternity. We emerge from the labyrinth of buildings into the town's center, and though we can now see the source of the shaking in the earth, a part of me wishes it remained hidden forever.

To the horizon, snowless mountains are layered in jagged folds, reaching into the darkened clouds around. At their center, an unnatural ring of peaks reaches higher, and rising into the blackened night, a ghostly column of Chernabog's infinite armies boils skyward. They burn across the heavens, carried to every corner of the world, falling again to the earth upon every nation, every town, every soul. Half of my heart wants to race toward it, to crush it with all power at our command, to tear it from the earth and cast it into oblivion.

And the other half of my heart. . . it wants to run from this place and never return, to turn my eyes from it, to lock myself away in the dark and cold until the pain of this knowing has gone from me. Because to face what we'll find beyond those mountains will cost part of my very soul, and I know in my heart it will never. . . ever. . . stand again in the light.

XLI

At last we emerge from the shadows of the shattered town. The endless tangle of overbuilt neighborhoods and congested homes begins to open up near the broken remains of an ancient church, sitting alone atop a grassy hillside. Memorialized at each of the fallen structure's corners stands a soaring column mounted with a graven effigy; the name of each forgotten martyr lost to the sands of time. Under the moonless sky, their eyes seem to watch our progress, their mouths speaking a silent warning. We move past gravestones and gravemarkers, statues and mausoleums, making our way nearer the church. Hopefully we can use it to keep covered while we decide our next step of the journey.

"These stones," Pocahontas asks, "Why are they on the ground like this?"

It takes me a moment to realize what she means. "This is a cemetery, Pocahontas. It's how we bury our dead, so we remember them."

"This ground is sacred," she declares, backing away. "We should not walk here."

I'm about to suggest that each person buried here might be on our side if they were alive, but I see something that steals the words from me. "Pocahontas! Behind you!" She instantly dodges to the side, the body of her bow streaking through the air to smash into a small winged statue come to life. Through the graveyard, a horde of them rise from their monuments and plinths, every form and every size moving toward us as one.

"No magic! No magic!" Curse this. We're almost helpless if we don't use our powers. Almost. Though not entirely. The mountains are so far away. We can't risk it. We have to fight our way out of this by hand. My heart jumps, seeing Merida aiming Medusa's bow straight toward me. A black blur shrieks through the air, the Olympus-forged arrow shattering a stodgy stone gargoyle rising behind me.

Still in his beast form, Adam smashes into the largest of our stone enemies, grappling with it and quickly getting an upper hand. Heaving its body with all his might, Adam slams it head first into a stone pillar, the body falling limp. "Belle!" he growls, "stand in the center with the others!" His great arms open wide, he shields them from the advancing attackers. Instinctively she starts to reach out to him, but she stops as though realizing something. Her expression changes as she gazes with new eyes at him and our enemies.

"Adam," she calls to him, "my love. . . set the beast within you free."

Phillip's sword and shield crash again and again, the gleaming blade whirling on all sides, stone arms legs and heads falling to the ground. Quick and agile, Aladdin dodges and parries strike after strike from the unliving throng pressing toward us. Using his advantage of speed, he sidesteps their crushing blows, lancing his sword through their neck. And Tarzan. My brother. He's untouchable against their clumsy forms, actually climbing over them, teasing their fellow soldiers to attack, only to spring free as they smash one another just trying to get him.

Sully has scooped up a stone leg and swings it about, crashing into the failing army, Mary faithfully beside him. Tiny vials she throws at them burst when they hit, the stone soldiers' confusion making them easy prey. But the rest of us are ready to make our stand if it's demanded. Most enemies have been defeated, but still a violent crashing continues, strike after powerful strike felt through the ground as their numbers pile upon Adam, trying to tear him down. But the man we knew is truly gone. The broken and shattered stone forms are flung into the air, the beast's mighty hands seizing their hapless arms, their legs, their heads, breaking them free, cracking apart their stone body with a savage fury we can only watch with fear and awe. Their lifeless bodies arc through the air away from the center of his storm, and another, and another, a final victory, and the fight is done.

Silence. Nothing moves over the ground, nothing runs toward us from the cemetery.

Over us all, a thin shadow glides and a heartbeat later, a monstrous crash strikes the ground. A great skeleton dragon, its flesh long since gone, rises up over us, its huge claw holding Adam to the ground. Secured to the dragon's back is a throne formed of bones, and seated upon that nightmarish throne a commander of Chernabog's armies. His silver armor is drawn into rows upon rows of long spikes, upon his shoulders a crown of silver, vain and arrogant, his tattered and befouled robes swirling beneath the dragon's shadowed wings. And in a muttered rasp as dead leaves, the rider speaks. "You shall go no further." Beneath the dragon's claw, the beast surges up, refusing defeat. The dragon falters, Merida launching another arrow straight into its eye. With a roar, it throws the rider, the dragon crawling toward us, intent on our doom.

Landing surely on its feet, the rider draws its sword and moves toward Phillip, immediately met by Aladdin and Tarzan. Mary slings another exploding vial toward the rider, but the fireball is drawn into its body with no effect. On all sides the fight against the rider begins.

As they lash against the rider, I have to force myself to not use my ice powers. "Get to the church! Go!" I call, keeping myself between Rapunzel, Snow White, and the onrushing dragon. I look back and see it's gaining fast, Adam grappling about its neck. Sully scurries over its wings, slashing with Aladdin's knife at the joints, but it doesn't slow.

We run past the crumbling stone wall into the main sanctuary, a moment later the dragon crashing into it, slowed but still getting closer. Merida lets a third arrow fly, a fourth arrow, driving into its skull. It turns to face her, and we run from the sides of the church toward our friends. Snaking its neck around the wall, it spies us and stands for attack. A thunderous crash, another, and behind the dragon one of the great pillars at the church corners begins to sway. The dragon unheeding, the massive structure topples over, slamming down onto its undead carcass. It's pinned. Sully and the beast take hold of the dragon's horns and together they heave upward with all their might, the dragon's skull at last breaking free. A green mist rises from its bones and it's over.

His great chest heaving with each angered breath, the beast searches the dragon's skeletal ruin, but no life is found. Unafraid, Belle steps close to him, her touch to his arm causing him to turn toward her, prepared for another fight. But his eyes lock to hers, and seeing her heart, the heart of her that loves him, the beast is brought surely and quietly to peace.

". . . Belle. . . are you alright?" He brings her close, his massive arms about her, the treasure of his heart. "Is everyone alright?"

I want to call out 'yes', but I remember the rider. Phillip bravely stands against the rider, its sword cutting deep into his shield, its power greater than our friends. Still Aladdin and Tarzan attack, and while Anna and I stay behind to protect Rapunzel and Snow White, the others rush to help. The fight is joined, the rider losing ground. Perhaps there is hope for victory. Anna and I hold the girls' hands, stepping from the shadows. And my heart stops. The rider. It watches us.

No. Not us. It watches Snow White.

The soulless green glow beneath its helm burns bright, and in a burst of molded dust, the rider vanishes. I don't dare breathe. I don't dare move. "Anna?" I strain to see any movement, any light, any shadow, trying with all my might to hear any small. . .

A deafening burst between Anna and me throws us and Rapunzel aside. All the world slows to a crawl. I hear a voice, someone. . . me, calling. I'm crying out in fear to Snow White. To Anna. To Rapunzel. To every soul around us, impossibly far away, hoping and praying that someone, anyone will drive a sword through the rider, will release an arrow into its body, will crush its malevolent form, to prevent our use of magic that will alert Chernabog to our presence. A black arrow, Merida's last, seems to drift slowly into the rider's helm, and passing through, has no effect. The rider stands before Snow White, the armored bones of one hand gesturing behind it, opening a screaming portal.

Its other hand reaches out to Snow White, paralyzed in fear, her courage lost. She doesn't understand. She doesn't realize. She doesn't see what the rider is. Its hand moves toward her, ready to grasp hold, to draw her away into the portal's empty maw. But another hand I see; my own. Tendrils of white fog begin to form around my hand, preparing to break with our oath against magic. But far away, someone cries out, the rider turning. A blinding bolt from Pocahontas' bow shatters the rider's helm, its wretched form falling to the ground, the portal vanishing as only a dream.

A heartbeat later my arms are around Snow White, holding onto her with all my strength. "Anna! Anna, get up!" I demand, Rapunzel immediately rushing close, her golden hair ready to heal either of us. Anna is there, her hands burning bright, and the others rush in to guard us should any further shadows descend from the sky.

XLII

Forcing my heart to be strong, I wipe Snow White's face, unable to stop my hands shaking. "Are you alright? Snow White? Are you hurt?" Tarzan is first beside us, searching the world around us for any further danger.

"My sisters, we are safe for now, but we can not stay here. Did you see? Did you see when the bright arrow killed the rider?"

"Did I see what, Tarzan?" Taking Snow White and Rapunzel's hand we surround them and move away from the vile form of the rider and dragon.

"A wall of eldritch power, Elsa," Mary answers. "In the moment Pocahontas fired her arrow, that power rushed out over the town to the far mountains. Chernabog knows."

"Forgive me, queen Elsa. I could not let. . ."

"There's nothing to forgive, Pocahontas. I was about to use my own powers. It was. . ." We are nearly brought to our knees, a nightmarish voice heard through every corner of the earth. His voice. It shakes the ground beneath our feet. It rattles the stones to their foundation. It crashes over our bones, burning into our mind, breaking our spirit.

All is lost beneath my hand. All is lost before my name.

I. . . the stone no storm shall break. I. . . the shadow upon the ages.

You, a fleeting light of flame. You, the fading spark unnamed.

I. . . the void to drown all hope. I. . . the endless night eternal.

No path beyond. No might above.

All is lost. . . all is lost, fleeting lights.

Before me. . . all is lost.

Jasmine. The genie. This must end. "Jasmine! Tell the genie to stop this!" She is in tears, barely able to draw breath just as the rest of us.

"He can't, Elsa! Nothing can stop him!"

Poor Adam writhes in agony, clawing at the earth, even worse than us, unable to shut out this torment, the voice of Chernabog again burning through our mind.

You are known. You are nothing.

Dust. And ash. And air.

For I know you.

Old One. The dreamer.

Outsider. The dreamed.

Triton's child of sacrifice.

Courageous, willful daughter.

Yielding siren of the heart.

Prideful beast of wrath.

Spotless martyr of forgiveness.

Persevering daughter of woe.

Trusting lamb of three mothers.

Faithful son of doubt.

Forgotten daughter of selflessness.

Devoted, unworthy pretender.

Imprisoned harbinger of justice.

Orphaned man of beasts.

Eclipsed sister who loves.

Despairing queen of resolve.

And. . . you. You.

The heart of innocence.

You are nothing.

You are dust and ash. A passing shadow.

I know you. I see you. And you shall fall.

XLIII

In less than a breath, his voice is gone, the unbearable weight over every mind and spirit vanished without a trace. And what we were shown. In the eyes of each of us, I see growing shame, our heart's darkest corners made known to all. "Did. . . did you all see?"

Phillip is the first to answer. "I. . . yes, I saw. Each of us, as he spoke."

"And I too," Adam agrees, gathering himself. "I saw us all, every one."

"Don't allow his words to break you," Ariel demands. "Chernabog is cruel and clever. He delights in tearing down any soul. Don't let him win over you." Her words are strong, spoken with the noblest intent, but over their faces I see the shadow of his naming us taking hold. I have to stop their thoughts. "Did we all see, then?"

"Not me," answers a tiny voice. "I didn't see anything." Snow White. Strange. But. . . I don't understand why. "Why would she alone not see?"

"He talked like he knew us," Rapunzel offers, wiping her tears. "Like he could see us."

"Snow White is the youngest of us, by a few years," Cinderella adds. "Might that be the reason she couldn't see him?"

"Chernabog named us," Mary interrupts, "as we are in our hearts. He named us by our nature. Every one of us. She didn't see what we were shown, because she is innocent. She has never hated, nor harmed, neither lied nor deceived, never taken or torn down, hasn't schemed or despaired. And I think there's something more than what he said and showed us," Mary contends with a gentle smile. "It may be the one thing he did not intend by his cruel naming. When he spoke of Snow White, there was something besides hatred. I heard uncertainty in his voice. I think he's afraid of her."

XLIV

Afraid. The word courses through us with a life of its own. There is hope.

"Snow White?" Cinderella asks. "Why on earth would he fear her? She's only a child."

"And yet, as one, we move toward his lair," Jasmine follows. "We move against Chernabog in order to strike him at the heart of his throne."

"But I still don't understand," Aurora contends, protectively standing close to Snow White. "What could she possibly do that would harm him? She has no powers like us. She doesn't have skill with a sword as Phillip or Aladdin. None of these. So why?"

Through our ranks, the cemetery wind carries its mournful cry, each of us searching our heart for the one answer, the only answer to be found, and it is Pocahontas who dares to speak it. "Fire cannot be undone by fire; only water. Snow cannot melt snow; only the living sun. She can defeat him." Pained by the terrible truth, her eyes fall over Snow White. "Innocent one, you are the only light in all this world who can."

"Well how, then?" Merida demands, calling her arrows to return. "Someone tell me how a lil' child is s'posed to bring down that horrible wretched thing."

"Hey, uh. . . people?" Anna interrupts, ". . . we got a problem."

My sister's voice brings chills down my spine. Turning my eyes to the north, I see the endless rain of glowing souls Chernabog had cast out over the world has stopped, the last few falling to the far reaches of the earth. And from the heart of that impossible cauldron, a new wind rises, a thousand, ten thousand, a hundred times ten thousand sparks of his soldiers burn through the sky, falling straight toward us.

XLV

A hail of Chernabog's unliving armies falls through the clouds, their glowing green bodies casting a sickly light over all the land. We've run out of time. Taking a last glance over each of my companions, I still see a veil of doubt. "Aurora! Cinderella! Push them back!" Aurora's unseen forces keep the first wave at bay, their surging numbers pushing around her defenses to advance again. Already my sister's hands smolder bright red, her command of flame sharpened into a fearsome flood poured over their ranks. Jasmine 's attack empties entire regions of the sky, the soldiers simply. . . gone. Again and again she focuses her effort, but their numbers are endless.

Crashing into the earth around us like an evil rain, Chernabog's mindless armies surge forward as one. Ariel lashes out on all sides with her trident, its blinding rays burning deep into their legions. Merida and Pocahontas have moved back from the front lines, their arrows stopping any soldier that gets past us. And for me, I find it simple enough to create wall after wall of hardened ice, but their numbers are so vast, they only pile up over it. Their flood never ends.

We are holding our ground. But only just. Half of our number are unable to help, but stay protected in our midst; Sully and Mary, Tarzan, Belle and Adam, Phillip, Aladdin, Rapunzel and Snow White. But my dear cousin shows courage still, standing in our perfect center, her golden hair shining bright, ready to heal any wound in less than a heartbeat.

"Elsa!" Adam calls out over the roar. "What can we do?"

There is nothing they can do. For now, the time for strength and brute force is over. But we can't stay here. Stopping another surge of enemies with a wall of ice spikes, I gain us a moment to breathe. "Jasmine! Can the genie carry us to the mountain?"

Her eyes watch things unseen, her hand touching the amulet. "Yes! Stand together!"

Anna takes to the air, the rest of us moving in as close as we can. A faint blue bubble forms around us and with a dizzying lurch, we're lifted from the ground.

"Gah!" Merida gasps, "Bleedin' sakes, girl! Ya' could'a warned us!"

The endless horde seems to fall away beneath us, their numbers reaching to the horizon. Faster and faster we're carried over them, their voices falling away in confusion. But at least we're moving. "Aurora, Cinderella, shield us at the front!" They stand close, a barrier of pure white and another of all colors merging into one. Their shining barrier deflects arrows and spears, thrown swords and shields, the armies abandoning all control in their rage. Over the surging masses we glide, at last brought to the land's end and over a great canyon delving deep into the black mists below.

Chernabog's armies are stranded, unable to cross. For now, we're safe. Adam and Phillip try to avoid looking down as we're carried over the vast emptiness to the slate cliffs beyond. Belle at least tries to comfort her husband in his fear, though Phillip seems nearly lost. "Phillip? Are you alright? What is it?" He tries to turn my question away, tries to remain silent, but his eyes are locked to his wife.

"She's. . . she's incredible, isn't she?" he praises. "Look at her. In the life we had before this, it was my duty. . . my joy. . . to keep her safe. As she is now, there's no danger from our old life that could harm her." He looks away from her, trying to gather his thoughts. "My Aurora. She's so strong. But my purpose is lost to me."

"The women of my tribe. . ." Pocahontas offers, ". . . they are strong, and some have fought alongside their men. But that is only battle, and there is more of love than strength. In the spring, on the day of the great hunt, the men are reminded of their own heart by the women who love them, before the arrows fly. And when the hunt is over, the men have risked their lives for the ones they love. Both are needed, and both are reminded. The strength of a tree is in the ground and the branches. They are one, as you and Aurora. Though her strength is greater today, the heart of the woman you love. . . is the same."

I don't think I've ever heard it said like that. And from the peace it seems to have brought Phillip, he likely hasn't either. Her words ended, Pocahontas turns her gaze from us, searching out over the horizon. I want to ask if she's alright as well, but something tells me it's best to leave her be. None of us are hurt or too exhausted to go on, so that's something to be grateful for.

Rapunzel takes my hand, her grip strong and uncommonly warm. "You did really good back there. Everyone did," I praise, my cousin standing proud beside me. "Hopefully we can regain our strength before reaching the other side."

Jasmine contends, "The unstopping charge of his army was more than we were prepared for. But we did well together, even with so little training."

"Elsa?" Rapunzel asks, standing close, "What do we do when we get across?"

The question brings my wandering mind back to this moment. There is no way for us to know. I search her big green eyes, and Snow white's hopeful face, and as we're carried through dead-still mists and the black of night, I find myself hoping with all my heart for some chance of victory; that we aren't giving ourselves over to our doom.

"I don't know, Rapunzel. But I do know we'll face it together." My assurance is as much for me as for her, a seed of doubt reminding me: we still have to stand against evil beyond reason, beyond light, beyond all nightmares. "Courage, dear cousin. Courage."

Part SiX

The Chasm

XLVI

Around us, the fog has started to thin, the great jagged peaks looming into grim view. The fiery pillar of Chernabog's legions still rises from deep in the mountains' heart, falling again over all corners of the earth.

"He still doesn't seem to know we're headed right for him," Aladdin offers.

"Elsa," Jasmine calls, ". . . can you see somewhere we can land?"

A small open space between sheer cliffs appears ahead. "There! Can you get us there?" Jasmine draws a breath to answer, but a nearly invisible wall, a ghostly barrier appears before us. No.

We strike its surface, my mind crushed by impossible pain. Can't think. Jasmine screams. We're falling. Every voice between us. Screams. Can't open my eyes. Tumbling through darkness. Anna calls to me. A bright orange flame moves close, drawing me up, my hands locked like iron to Rapunzel and Snow White. The others. The others. I force my eyes open, the pain fading, seeing tendrils of red, green, and blue wrapping around us all. Aurora. She holds us in her power, gently bringing us down through the mists, down beneath the towering spires of mountainside, safely to rest.

"What in heaven's name was that?" Phillip gasps, lifting himself from the ground. "It felt like every bone in my body was broken."

Dusting himself off, Sully huffs, "Chernabog's got one heck of a way of saying 'keep out'."

"That's exactly its purpose," Ariel assures. "There is no power, no shadow, no weapon beyond him. With our greatest strength, we must stand ready for anything."

XLVII

Without using our powers and as quiet as we can, we make our way up the narrow winding path carved from the sheer cliff. Ariel is at the lead, her trident allowed to dimly glow, lighting our way in the gloom. High overhead, the bilious column of burning sparks, the soldiers of our enemy, rise skyward, their origin still hidden behind the near mountains. Beneath the rumbling that shakes the earth, a new sound reaches our ears: it is the muttered words spoken by Chernabog.

"Still his armies pour out across the world," Adam growls in a hush. "All nations are fighting against the impossible." Holding to his arm, Belle hushes him, saying, "No, my love. There is hope. There is always hope."

His words strike into my heart. Until this moment I hadn't even remembered Arendelle. In my mind are born sights of devastation, of fire and ruin, and my breath is taken from me, cruel talons closing about my heart. "Anna. . ."I gasp, ". . . our home. . . our people." Your hand reaches out to me, giving me strength. My loving sister. In taking my hand, you lift me up from despair. The flat expanse at the turn of this trail may let us regroup.

"Jasmine," Anna asks, ". . . his army, where does it come from? How can we stop it?"

Before she can answer, a vile form crashes down in our midst, and in the heartbeat it takes to see the dragon's shape, its rider has lunged from its seat and torn Jasmine's amulet from around her neck.

"No. No! Stop him!" she cries out, every power at the ready. In less than a heartbeat, the rider launches from the ledge and soars out over the sheer abyss. In its flight, it draws a great length of chain from around its torso and lashes out, the iron hook at its end catching hold of the far cliff. "Merida!"Jasmine demands, "Stop him!"

Merida lets arrow after arrow fly, the rider deftly avoiding each one, climbing the chain as a scurrying insect. Tarzan leaps without fear across the vast divide, catching hold of the chain and climbing quickly. At the top, the rider stands and sneers at us arrogantly, his jawbone shattered into pieces by Merida's last arrow. In a flurry of boney hands and feet the rider regathers its wits and turns to run with its prize, but a searing flash bursts at its elbow, the lower arm falling to the ground. Another burst and its lower body is gone. Pocahontas.

Tarzan at least has a chance. He catches up to the crawling rider, and smashes his heel down on the neck. It is over. The amulet is reclaimed.

But we have our own problem. Make that three: the dragon, and two piles of jagged stones at the end of the path. The boulders of both piles rise up, stacking each upon each, rising high, forming two gigantic guardians. We attack the dragon in our midst, the two stone forms slowly lumbering closer. Ariel's trident stabs toward the dragon, and breaks off parts of its wing as well as slabs of rock from the cliff beyond. "Ariel, stop! Protect them! Protect the others!" I cry out, Cinderella shielding us. Phillip and Aladdin fend off the dragon's gnashing teeth, but Anna has taken to the air, her seething spears of fire lancing off the skeletal, tattered wings. With a simple thought, I create a growing dome of solid ice between it and the cliff. Clamoring for a grip, it fails and is lost to the bottomless depths.

As one, Cinderella, Aurora, and I hurry to the end of the trail, to stand against the lumbering, massive guardians on flat ground. Anna blazes a storm of fire down over one of them, but the stone is too large, not destroyed, not melted, just a smoldering red from the unbearable heat it now holds. It slings a hail of rocks from its arm, crashing over my sister, knocking her from the air. "Anna! Hang on!" I call, and quickly create a pier of ice from the opposite cliff to catch her. "You will not harm my sister!" Behind the stone titans I create two ice guardians of my own. ". . . destroy them."

The ground shakes again and again, their massive ice fists crashing down onto the stone guardians. The first is tackled by one of mine and taken immediately over the cliff. It's gone. But the other, the one Anna attacked, is melting away the body of my second guardian, and winning. In the heartbeat it takes me to act, the stone thing has broken the arm of my ice guardian and crashes toward the four of us, its stone hands smashing the slate wall above our friends still hiding on the path.

Aurora deflects the falling landslide, Cinderella's shield strained to the breaking point under the monster's form. Ariel lances out with spears of destructive light into the bulk of the monster, great bursts of shattered rock flying in all directions. But the body is so large. The shining beam of power from her trident sings and sings, an avalanche of stone from the hulking form falling to the ground. Ariel refuses to retreat, refuses to think of her own safety. But still it draws over us and closer to our powerless friends. No. No! I create a pillar of hardened ice in the stone guardian's path but it shatters under the monster's impossible weight. In that moment, a searing heat pushes us back, having to cover with our arms to not be blinded. Still I hear Ariel's trident, and see the bright flicker of Cinderella's shield, but a new sound reaches my ears.

It is the roar of great and terrible flame, like an opened furnace, near the guardian's chest and head. Louder and hotter the furnace grows until the body of the guardian falters, and moves no more. The heat and light immediately fade and I look past my hands to see the body of the guardian slowly slide over the cliff, its great stone head molten into a puddle. Anna. My avenging sister, what a fearsome sight you are now. Your power burns through your entire form, crawling as a thing alive under your skin. Your eyes shine like the sun itself, and the very air melts around you. "Is everyone alright?" she asks, bringing her powers back into place.

And from behind us, a pained voice calls out, ". . . I can't see. I can't see."

Ariel. My heart stops. She stood her ground, defending the others behind her no matter the cost. They would have been crushed if not for all of us with powers standing together. But the price is terrible. Over her front and arms are deep burns, her hair blackened into ash, her eyes pale white from having burned in her head. She fights to not cry out in pain and fear. We rush to her side, Cinderella wanting to reach out to her. "No! Don't touch her.

Rapunzel!" My call to my cousin is the last word I can breathe.

Ariel. Her whimpers break my heart. Rapunzel is quick to her side, the soft touch of her golden hair beginning to heal away Ariel's agony. Blessed is this power, given to you, dear cousin. For all our strengths of fire and ice and destruction, in this moment your power to heal is worth all of us. The light of the sun flows through your long tresses, covering over Ariel's skin, healing further and further through her trembling form.

Anna sets Tarzan down and settles to the earth, seeing the unintended consequence of having used her fullest powers. I refuse to let this stay, immediately taking her hand. "They had to be stopped, Anna. This could happen to any of us. Any of us. You hear me?" Anna's face. Her arms. The stones flung at her by the giant have cut her, hurt her. Before I can even tell her, she kneels beside Ariel, embracing her. "I'm so sorry, Ariel."

And the golden light of Rapunzel flowing over them both, it is Ariel's words that make the courage in my heart burn bright. "You did what had to be done, Anna. And I would give my life to end this evil."

With great respect and even a little shyness, Tarzan offers the tarnished amulet back to its owner. "Princess Jasmine, my lady. Your genie." Her eyes search my brother's, looking for any glimmer of what she cannot find.

"Did. . . did you not want to actually. . . use it, Tarzan? It was in your possession. You could have asked for almost anything you might want."

In my own mind, the first thing I think of. . . is our parents. Could it be possible? Could the genie do so great a thing? Could it bring the dead back to us?

"I want to be good to my sisters. Good to Jane. Good to all I love, even my friends here. I need nothing more."

We're given no time to think of the gentle and bright spirit of his words. The fiery legions of Chernabog have found us and fall from above the clouds yet again. It's then I realize.

"Where's Snow White?"

XLVIII

We race back along the path, all of us calling out for her, the armies of the dead crashing into the mountainside. How could we have forgotten her? How could we have left her alone? Rounding a turn in the path, Snow White stands there, unharmed. But beyond her is something we could not imagine: something terrible. It is a vision that breaks my heart. Chernabog is showing Snow White the evils of all the world. "No!" My hand immediately covers her eyes, and I turn her to me, all of us gathering around her.

"What on earth?" Cinderella gasps, the ghostly apparition fading.

I wipe the tears from her face, but still she trembles. "You are strong, little one. Do you hear me? You are strong! He's trying to frighten you, like you frighten him. That's all."

"Frighten her?" Adam growls. "Did you see the shadows in that vision? It was every. . . "

Belle's hand turns his face away from me, her whispers weighing on his shoulders.

"We can't allow him to do this again. He wants to overshadow her spirit; to poison her heart." I search everyone around me, but can't find the one thing I need. "Jasmine, create a cloth large enough to cover her eyes." For a moment, she moves to question my intent, but seeing the grim shadow over my face, she silently agrees. A simple cloth appears in my hands, and with the greatest care, I bring it over her eyes, tying it behind her raven hair.

"There's nothing to fear. We're with you, Snow White. We're with you, to the end." Holding her hand as tight as I dare, we move again as one, our hearts perhaps wiser though bruised, and we make our way to the end of the winding trail.

Part Seven

Heart of Evil

There's no time to think. The legions of the dead tumble down the cliffs, turned away easily for now. I create an ice bridge across the chasm, and as one, we reach the other side.

"We have to get as close to Chernabog and that portal as we can." Anna and I lead the group, with Cinderella, Jasmine and Ariel at the center guarding the others without powers. Guarding behind us are Aurora, Pocahontas and Merida.

"Jasmine," Merida reminds, "before the battle, you were asked if we can close that flamin' portal of his. Does yur genie have an answer? "

Securing the amulet again around her neck, Jasmine turns her attention to Sully and Mary.

"The portal joins worlds together, Chernabog drawing endless armies of shadowed souls through. There is a way to close it. We'll have to use what may be the most powerful object we have, the doorway, but it could mean Mary never again seeing her friend."

Sully smirks with a huff. "Yeah, that'll show him. . . it's. . . wait. What?" Carried on Sully's back, Mary demands, "Jasmine? What do you mean?"

"Your doorway joins your world, and Sully's dream world. And he is not supposed to be here, Mary. You know that. We all do. I'm sorry." Quickly we navigate through the jagged cliffs, each step bringing us closer to our goal. "Your magnificent doorway is the same power as his portal, and if it's used within his portal it will close."

"Well, great," Sully proclaims, "but what does that mean exactly for me and Boo?"

"When we are close enough, I will summon your gate, and move it and you, Sully, directly into Chernabog's portal."

Aladdin interrupts. "Into his portal? You're not serious. You're going to throw Sully into that portal? What if something goes wrong? What if. . ." Jasmine's hand quiets his disbelief, and she continues. "This is the only power to stop him. Even now his armies flood over this world and all other worlds seen and unseen. Our nations, our cities, our families stand against mindless evil, fighting against it with their lives in the balance. If there were any other choice, any other sacrifice, I would give it before my next breath. My noble friends. . . sisters and brothers of the sword. . . this is the only way."

"Well," Sully mutters, "since you put it like that . . ."

The burning column towers above, carrying endless armies over the earth. Around us, the undead warriors fall like rain, our powers driving them back in our relentless forward push. We're getting close. Very close. The muttered words spoken by Chernabog as he guides spirits through the portal shake the ground beneath our feet, rattling our bones. But now, his shadow flickers and streaks through the thin veil of dust and smoke that rises from around our enemy. Courage, my heart. Still we press onward, Cinderella's shield glowing bright, enclosing half our number, and Aurora deflecting each falling or attacking soldier attempting to surprise us. "We have to get away from this path."

Moving through the jagged rocks instead, our progress is slowed, but the undead soldiers landing on them are dashed to pieces. Slowly, steadily, we bring one another along, upward, and ever onward, ever on guard, wending through the razor-like cliffs and jutting stone. In our single-minded goal, we almost don't realize there are no more mountains or cliffs or rocks standing between us and Chernabog, just a single last rise of stone, a craggy, broken hill, piercing high into the mists. "Get down," I whisper, moving back with them behind cover. Keeping Snow White close, we kneel behind a line of slate stone, trying to understand something each of us has hoped to never see.

Through obscuring smoke, a great shadowed form drifts, drowning all light. Chernabog's earth-shaking words and writhing form blend together, every gasp of air about us drawn away under massive wings, reaching across the vast, empty expanse. It hurts to be here. It hurts to be this close. Each word is a crushing blow, each sound seeking to stop our heart. Again the dread wings rush in, only to open with a great wind, clearing the smoke and dust before our eyes. There is nothing more to hide this thing that should not be, this living void, this impossible shadow. Our breath is stolen away. It is our nightmares, it is our folly, it is the emptiness into which the hateful and cruel cast themselves. And at the very center of this storm, unifying all that does not stand in the light, at the end of our reason and sanity lies this abyss of our doom.

LII

Fear.

Quiet genie. This evil one may hear you.

Fear. No victory will be gained.

"Mary, Sully, stand ready. When he next turns his gaze to the sky, is your time." With an unspoken thought, I summon the door to our side, it shining frame suspended in the air, all of us waiting. Turning to see if they hear, I find the old one's eyes are locked to her friend.

". . . can you. . . can you do this?"she asks.

The strange blue one quickly huffs, building his courage. "Yeah. Yeah! This is nothin' compared to the warehouse, right, Boo? Remember?"

His big eyes seek her out, his strong form braced against what may happen any moment. But though he stands ready, her heart fails.

"This. . . I can't do this. I. . . I'm not ready. . . I'll never be ready."

"Boo, we can do this! She'll sling me in under that big guy, I'll be back home, and you'll be able to . . ."

She wipes her tears and reaches out, her tiny hand resting over his. "I just found you, and I'm losing you all over again. . . kitty. . ."

His huge arms hug around her with such tenderness. "Oh, Boo, you'll never lose me. Never. I got you, Boo. Right here in my heart, forever and ever. And you got me, okay?"

"I love you, kitty. I love you so much."

How I wish this could end any other way for you, my unexpected and dear friends. My attention turns to the terrible thing that stands far before us, and strangely, its shadowed void makes the beauty of this goodbye all the more bright. For I once believed goodbyes only show us what we lose, though now I see a greater truth: goodbyes remind us how much our heart can love. Chernabog moves, standing tall, its arms reaching high. "Both of you, it's. . . it's. . . yes. Yes! Now!"

With a single thought, the shining gate, Sully and Mary are thrown toward the portal, straight and true as an arrow. Chernabog does not see them pass under his wing, through the veil of churning smoke and mists, right toward the raging heart from which he summons his unliving army.

Fear. There is only defeat.

Curse you, genie. No power will be spared to stand against this.

Defeat. Free me, Jasmine. There is only defeat.

One breath away, a heartbeat away, the twinkling of an eye, and it is done. A blinding light and crashing wall races out, the gate and Mary and Sully having achieved their intended purpose. Chernabog is stunned, lurching back from the unimagined attack. The portal is undone, falling inward upon itself as an endless drawn breath. Burning legions of undead soldiers are pulled down into the empty maw, the column of smoke about them cast to the winds. Every whisper of air in the chasm falls and falls, until only the burning earth below and stone cliffs above remain. They. . . and Chernabog.

"Jove almighty!" Merida gushes, "They did it! They stopped all that evil army!"

Free me, Jasmine! All is ruin. There is no victory. There is only defeat.

LIII

His portal is gone, collapsed into nothing. My sister and brother rejoice beside me, but for all their cheers, I can't join them. This hasn't ended. It hasn't even begun. "Wait. Look!"

Chernabog turns, the air about us pulled helplessly beneath his wings as winds before a storm. Pale as moonlight his eyes find us, the foolish souls whom dared stand against him, and all courage flees from me. Merida's voice falls silent, she and Cinderella, and Aurora, and Pocahontas, and every soul at my shoulder: courage has abandoned us all.

A brilliant flash of azure light paralyzes us with terror, a roar unheard in this world for uncounted millennia tearing the air apart. Jasmine. She has freed the genie, its true form being taken, a glorious, terrible, breathtaking thing, its very body alive with all life and shadow under the stars. Soaring to a dizzying height, the genie crashes bodily into Chernabog, the two of them together slamming down into the mountainside, shaking the earth beneath us. This. . . this is our only hope. This is our last prayer. Swirling storms of dust rise over the violence between the genie and Chernabog, hiding them away, only the terrible strikes of one against the other echoing between the crumbling chasm walls.

Jasmine retreats behind us, made powerless, just as Tarzan, Belle, Adam, Aladdin, Phillip, and now, against this, even Pocahontas and Merida. They hide behind the rocks, having no hope to stand against so terrible a power. My sister is with me, and holding tight to Snow White's trembling hand I accept this stand against all that is evil; I proclaim my stand for the light. Our lives in the balance, I bring her quickly over the last rocks, through the broken path, past the small protection standing between us and the battling gods. But I am not alone. Cinderella. She is with us. Aurora guards our passage from above. Anna takes my other hand and our advance is made across the flat expanse carved from the cliffs, to the foot of the lone outcropping of rock reaching high over the abyss.

We make our stand. For all that is good and noble and light. As one. . . we make our stand.

Part Eight

Ascension

LIV

The earth is heaved by the hidden battle between the genie and Chernabog, raging behind the mountainside. Faltering, I hold Snow White close, and pick myself up from the quaking valley floor. Aurora guards above, deflecting shattered rock and stone showering over us with each deafening attack the two combatants unleash. The lonely outcropping is reached, and seeing the spire of rock leading out and away from us, I find that even in the presence of my sister, of Aurora, of Cinderella. . . something within me falls away. Again and again, savage impacts echo between the chasm walls, my courage as shaken as the ground beneath our feet.

"Go!" A commanding voice cries over the roar. It's Pocahontas. "Elsa! Ariel! Aurora! Cinderella! Anna! My sisters! Go!" She and Merida take my arms, their eyes blazing with a fearlessness I don't understand. Tarzan guards behind us with Adam and Belle, Aladdin and Phillip, and holding close to Snow White, dear Rapunzel. You are with me. By our life or death, you are with me. My heart rises, and fighting against the smothering air, ignoring the burning in every limb, the height of the dreaded spire is slowly, painfully, surely climbed. An impossible crash heralds an explosion of bright blue light outshining the sun, and all are thrown to the ground. A cry beyond anything in my nightmares proclaims: the genie is gone. There is nothing more to stand between us and absolute evil.

There is no world beyond this. There is nothing for each of us but this. The life we knew before means nothing if we fail, because there would be nothing left to return to. My heart slams in my chest, my every effort to drag Snow White and the rest of us ever upward bought with pain, the unity and might of us together the one hope each of us has left. Only a little further, only the final few steps away, one last effort, and we are there. A massive hand reaches from the veiling smoke and dust, slamming down onto the chasm wall, lifting an unseen form. Chernabog's horrific face looms larger and larger, the shadowed arms and titanic wings encompassing the entire world. His roar is purest rage, but he is wounded.

The genie's sacrifice was not in vain. Cracks in the molten skin do not close, a searing, foul vapor cast out. His other hand draws back, his fingers curved as hateful knives, and with all power at his command he brings his hand down upon us. From close to me a gleaming white light, Cinderella defying him with her cry and a blinding flash, his hand stopped by her shield. Nearly broken, she falls to the ground. It cannot be each of us alone. We must stand as one. Stepping forward I lash out at Chernabog, forging spears of ice, Anna lancing at his form with pillars of fire. Aurora unleashes the height of her powers, bringing the chasm down upon his shoulders, and Ariel burns into his heart with the mighty power of her trident. Crash upon crash falls over Chernabog, the evil titan staggered, but regaining his ground. No. No! This cannot be what is done. This cannot be what fails.

In a storm, a hurricane, an unbearable flood, his wrathful hands smash down around us, against the stone walls, wave after wave of unrelenting evil crashing nearer. An unstopping fury as the breaking of worlds beats us to our knees, the earth, the ground, the stone around us shattered and falling away. Time slows to a crawl. Beside me, my brave sisters and brothers falter. Around me, my beloved family has failed. Beneath the unrelenting rage of evil, they are pushed back from this place, though they clamor again to stand by our side. And in the searing wind, under the falling dust and ash and rock, tears streaming from behind the veil over her eyes, stands Snow White.

What was it Chernabog did, when he named us? His will was cruel, meant to break our mind and spirit. But in each name given shined the best of our nature. In each name given hides the only lights in all the world to end such evil. Not strength. Not powers. Not dreams.

My heart knows. I know what must be done. Forgive me, little child. Please forgive me. Forcing myself to rise beneath the onslaught of Chernabog's hatred, fighting through the relentless crash of his fury over us all, my faithful friends unite their powers, forging the way for this, the final strength we possess. My hand trembles as I reach up to undo the knot of her blindfold, the noble souls beside and around me realizing this is the only way. The befouled cloth is pulled free. . .

. . . and Snow White stands alone.

Her eyes fight to accept the light once more, her innocent spirit trying to understand the unspeakable evil she is made to see. Tears stream down her face, the dust and foul soot of this place washed away beneath them. Her heart is breaking. Chernabog rages before us, our combined power only able to slow his advance. The chasm walls give way, collapsing under the forces unleashed, but still he moves closer each heartbeat. Our strength fails. We have nothing more. In my last hope to protect her even a moment longer, I reach out and take her hand. Her voice. She's saying something. She's speaking to Chernabog.

". . . I'm sorry for you. . . because you'll never love, and you'll never be worthy of love."

Her hand in mine, I'm given strength. Anna takes her hand, and our strength grows. Ariel casts down her trident, taking my sister's hand, and Rapunzel, and Tarzan, and Pocahontas, and to Merida, and her to Cinderella, and Belle and Adam, and Aurora and Phillip, and Jasmine and Aladdin. And from within us, every last one of us, standing as one, a power grows, an unspeakable power none could ever possess alone. The hatred and cruelty and emptiness and terror that rages before us, falters, moved from out of its place. This perfect force from within us burns bright, shining before evil as the light of the sun, driving away all shadow, piercing into the night, vanquishing all darkness.

As purest light it surges out, an unstoppable force, the void of Chernabog powerless against it, the evil form cast down into the chasm, breaking through, shattered as glass, scattered to the winds, and is no more.

The task is done. Victory is ours. The crumbling earth sleeps, the howling winds fall silent, the burning mountain rests, and the only sound between the chasm walls is the quiet sobs of an innocent child. My arms and my sisters' arms gather about her with love, holding her close, drying her tears, seeking only to raise her heart up out of darkness to the light.

We've won.

Atlantica. My beautiful city has taken great damage under Chernabog's armies, though compared to what we've been through it still seems like paradise. Holding tight to Eric's hand, my beloved goes with me, my father having summoned us to the council chamber.

"Father," I greet, "we're here." And though I'm overjoyed to see each soul I stood with through the battles of the days before, a heaviness is in my heart. And among them, the old one, little Mary. She stands by her gate, quiet and solemn, waiting to carry us back to our own time, and our own life. "Noble friends, sisters and brothers. What you've risked, what we've all risked, can never be repaid; can never be conquered." I draw close and take my friends' hands, each of us joining together, though for the last time. "From this day, we are family, we are one. One heart, one spirit. Now and forever."

Embracing my dear friends in turn, I can only think of each moment of our journey, each step taken, each danger faced, each light given. It is too much for me, but my tears are from a heart filled to overflowing, and it is a gift beyond measure. One after the other, they take Mary's hand and vanish in a last burst of light. Another, another, and they are gone.

"My child," father assures, "your heart loves just as your mother. She would be. . . rather, she is. . . so proud of you, Ariel." His embrace is like resting in the sun, the worry and woe of recent days helped surely to heal. With Eric at my side, I step into the gate, Mary taking us from this city of my childhood, and back to my life with my husband in the world above.

"My lord," Sebastian calls from the shadows. "Must they truly forget everything?"

"The threads of time are too fragile to risk them not forgetting, faithful friend. There is so much uncertainty, when moving across the ages. This must be done. It is the only way."

LVI

Lord Triton. You declared that I, your noble servant, should make each of my dear friends forget what they have done in this time of trial; what they have done in the name of all life. Never have I defied your will, your majesty. You are honorable and wise, and have sight across the years beyond what I can imagine. Keeping faithful to your command, I took the memory of each beautiful soul when I guided them home, and gathered the memories of each into a tiny stone, taken from the exquisite armor your fine smiths made for them.

And when each soul stepped from my gate, standing again in their life as it was in the very moment they departed, their mind was returned to what it was even before they had begun. But to deny these brave souls to ever remember what was done. . .

This just won't do.

So. . . in the deep of night, when they each lie sleeping safe and warm, and their dreams began, I've made my path to their home, stepping into their room, and I placed on their bed close to them a parchment letter, rolled up and tied with a little red string. And held in a silver jewel-setting, is the stone I took from each, filled with the memories of their trials and deeds. All of them, each and every heart that reached to the light. All, but one.

Only little Snow White will I not visit. Only little Snow White will I not gift memory unto. For she is innocent, her heart unburdened with the shadows of the world. And that innocence should be protected, for it's what best in all of us. But for the others, my letter will tell them how such great things came to be. My letter will tell them of deeds beyond the shadow, beyond the light. It is the story of us together, of courage and hope, of strength and unity, and how it all began. . . once upon a time.

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