Dove in the Midst of Serpents is a sequel to the fanfiction Kiss the Snake Good Night. Initial chapters summarize events from the latter (from Elyon's perspective) so that new readers don't feel obligated to read it.

Dove in the Midst of Serpents

By Memory In Crimson

Tags: Animated universe, Alternative universe, Sequel

Chapter I

When Cedric had told Elyon that he was not from Earth, she had felt her adolescent affection for him begin to crumble. "Rick" Hoffman, the hunky book seller with golden hair, gorgeous violet eyes, that chiselled face, and that glowing skin was crazy; and poor Elyon had fallen for him.

Then, in the privacy of his office, he had changed—really changed. As in, Cedric had transformed from a handsome human into a dog, one that barked and talked. Then he had changed from the dog into some bat-like creature about four feet tall with a cartoonish face like a toad and three-pointed ears.

Finally, Cedric had transformed into his familiar handsome self, and Elyon, wide-eyed and mouth agape, had asked: "Why are you telling me this? Of all people—me?" She smirked and added waggishly, "Is this like some sort of fantasy novel where I'm secretly the hero?"

"I would not have shown you my power," Cedric had begun solemnly, "if you were an ordinary earthling. But you aren't from Earth either, my princess. You are the heir that I've sought for thirteen long, agonising years."

Elyon couldn't believe what Cedric had just claimed. Oh, sure, she could no longer deny the existence of magic—actual, really real magic that wasn't sleight-of-hand stuff, not after Cedric's jaw-dropping display. She had had a more difficult time, though, believing that she was more than an ordinary girl. Why, to be recruited for another heroine's adventure had made more sense, but she was the chosen one? Elyon "Ordinary Heatherfield Teenaged Girl" Brown? A princess?

The poor thing had lain on Cedric's divan, repeating denial after denial as he had explained that the strange, glowing, green star she had stolen had actually been magically crafted for the rightful heir and only the rightful heir to the throne.

But that still couldn't have been possible! Elyon couldn't have been some heir to the throne in a land called Meridian, on a planet—"Another planet?" she had cried—called Metamoor. She couldn't have been kidnapped and spirited to earth by a bunch of rogues, whom sought to disrupt the natural order of that magical realm.

And a brother? She had had an older brother, whom had served as regent? And he had never stopped searching for her, dreaming of the day when they would reunite, and he could set the crown upon her noble brow—

"And I'm her?" Elyon had exclaimed, looking Cedric straight in his eyes. "Me? Me? Me, of all people?"

When Cedric had wrapped his strapping fingers gently around her hands, Elyon's heart had fluttered.

"I would never have revealed all these things to you," he had said, "unless I were certain that you were she... my princess."

Enchanted by the honest in Cedric's scintillating eyes, Elyon had not paid attention to—rather, she hadn't anticipated the subtle rise in her energy, until Cedric had leaped to his feet and cursed, shaking his injured hands.

Elyon had been mortified. Jumping to his side, she had inundated him with apologies and had begged to see his hands. Oh, God! Had she inflicted such pain upon him? God, she would have never hurt Cedric on purpose—oh, God, oh, God! She had been a terrible person!

When Cedric had hugged her and stroked her head, the butterflies in her heart had renewed their flight. He had lifted her chin gently, and he had smiled at her. That shocking manifestation had only served as one more piece of proof, he had said.

"A slightly painful piece of proof," he had added with chuckle, "but proof nonetheless."

At that and subsequent meetings, Cedric had recounted many details surrounding her life: that her real parents had long ago perished; that only she could rule as the Light of Meridian; that in reclaiming her birthright, she would avenge them; that some rebellion sought to undermine her brother's regency; that her friends—Will, Irma, Hay, Taranee, and even Cornelia—had become involved with the rebellion as warriors called the Guardians.

Had they been conspiring with the rebels outright? Elyon had wondered. Or had they been unwitting weapons of war? Cedric had been unable to tell. Regardless, she couldn't let them know what she had finally learned.

And the Browns? Her so-called parents? She definitely could not let them know what she had learned or that Cedric had come to Earth. Furthermore, Parent's Night at Sheffield Institute, Cedric would reveal to her who and what they actually had been.

Indeed, Parents' Night had been the night that Elyon Brown could no longer call herself a Brown, could no longer live a lie on a world that had never been hers. As soon as Cedric had held the Star of Threbe aloft behind the Browns' head, he had exposed them as inhuman creatures they had always been.

Elyon had shrieked, and she had run into his embrace. She could trust only Cedric, then, and she could trust only the people that Cedric told her she could trust.

And she had trusted Cedric when he had said he would get her safely home, home to Meridian.

When Elyon had arrived in the middle of the beautiful castle, untouched by the ravages of the centuries, she had marvelled and thanked Cedric for rescuing her. She had thanked Phobos, her brother, whom had embraced her as soon as he had seen her. She had made it—she had finally come home! Phobos had taken her hand and begun to show her all that he had desired her to see.

Indeed, all that he had desired. Every guard and every servant had been painstakingly prepared for Elyon's arrival. Phobos had ensured that not one of his thralls, by either accident or in foolish defiance, would expose his true intentions for Elyon.

Everyone save Cedric.

Some force within or without Cedric had invigorated his enervated conscience. He had invited Elyon to his chamber one night, and her affection had stirred. She had assumed that perhaps Cedric had cast aside his (admittedly) noble abstention from being with her, that he would requite the love she had for him in that most intimate manner. Such had not been his intention.

Cedric had revealed that he had become deathly ill, and the hour of his demise would chime when he would least expect it. He had confessed that this malady had arisen from some dread he wouldn't describe to her, the fear of a horrific punishment that Phobos would inflict. Nevertheless, Cedric could no longer live with the guilt of the evil he had done to her or the evil that Phobos had planned.

All that Cedric had spoken about the Browns, the rebels, and her friends had been lies. The Browns had withheld the truth from her, yes, but not malignantly. They had been trying to conceal Elyon, to save her from Phobos. The rebels had consisted of more than peasants furious at the atrocious conditions under which Phobos had ruled. Members of the Queen's court, ones who had survived Phobos's purge, had also embedded themselves within the Rebellion.

And her friends? she wondered. The Guardians? Cornelia?

Appointed by the council of some holy place called Kandrakar. Phobos had not only dragged Metamoor into an unsavoury war, but he had reached beyond their world, stealing magical energy and recruiting ferocious soldiers from other worlds. Therefore, this Kandrakar place had sent the Guardians, young women (who, at this time, happened to be her friends) to aid the Rebellion and ultimately Elyon.

That confession had ignited Elyon's fury.

How dare he! How dare Cedric take advantage of Elyon's trust, of her love for him! His tender, sibilant voice and that otherworldly, hypnotic gaze had lured her to a fate worse than death. God! With the power she had cultivated in Meridian, she would have used every technique to make the hideous snake suffer.

"What do I do now?" Elyon had demanded, sparks crackling around her fists. "I mean, now that you've pretty much kidnapped me, and I have no way of getting back to Earth, where people actually love me and try to tell me the truth?"

He had replied unsatisfactorily: "I don't know."

Elyon had growled. She had sworn to herself she would kill him!

"But this I do know," he had continued, "now that you know the truth, it's imperative that the coronation does not come to pass as your brother has planned it to."

They had fallen silent, and Cedric's gaze had fallen to the floor. Then he had begun to speak with cunning:

"In fact... I think you might get some well-wishers the day before. Ones who have no intention of letting that back-stabber get what he wants."

The fate that Phobos had intended for Elyon would not come to pass, not as long as Cedric maintained his loyalty to her. And as long as Elyon feigned her naïveté and her affection for Phobos, the blackguard would remain none-the-wiser.

A new trust for Cedric instilled, Elyon had forgiven him, and she had remained beside him as often as she could.

Cedric had visited her chamber and taught her as many subjects as he could. He had spoken of how humans had come to Metamoor (so, in a way, Earth really had been her home), of the native Galhots and the foul brigands called the Kahedrin, of the first Light of Meridian, and of Elyon's mother.

When Elyon had tried to broach the subject of his people, though, Cedric had often hesitated. His true form had always caused her to flinch and cringe and hide her face, and he had assumed his culture might appear no less terrifying.

To remind her that the Aaronagim had been more than ferocious beasts, he would invite her to his chamber with its illustrious tapestries, the myriad of baubles and statues from his homeland and lands that had traded with it, and the library of books that rendered him "human"—that is, relatable, to use less biased vocabulary.

Elyon had seen that Cedric had felt more relaxed speaking of the Land of the Lotus in his chamber, for he would coil comfortably upon his vast bed, his voice soften like his human voice, and his claws flourish elegantly. His lessons had renewed her love for Meridian and had piqued her curiosity about the land of the serpentine shape-shifters.

But before he could dive deep into the tale of Queen Chesed and her journey to the Land of the Lotus, Cedric had vanished.

Elyon had known that Phobos had been responsible. Despite how cautious she had been, Phobos had to have happened upon their plans, and God alone had known into what horrible dungeon Cedric had been thrown.

Perhaps Phobos had not learned what Elyon had discovered. According to Caleb, the possibility had existed that Phobos had felt that Cedric had fulfilled his purpose. He had acquired Elyon, and since Cedric had suffered a slew of defeats against the Guardians, Phobos had lost the need for such an incompetent general.

Regardless of Phobos's reason, the bastard had robbed Elyon of her friend, the closest friend that she had gained in the castle, a friend whom despite his monstrous appearance had behaved tenderly, lovingly, and penitently. Phobos had done something terrible to Cedric, and Elyon had fought hard against her imagination to not conjure up visions of the worst.

Even after the battle against Phobos, even after she had towered victoriously above the lying scumbag, Elyon's heart had ached for Cedric, for he had not been present to see himself avenged.

A young Galhot messenger had arrived in the Great Hall of the Castle of Saviour-King Escanor, where Queen Elyon listened to as many soldiers as she could. The Galhot could not have been much older than Caleb, and he hopped through the throng with the excitement of a teenager at a concert on Earth.

Older soldiers snorted and shook their heads at his verve, but to Elyon, this young man was a breath of fresh air. She'd forgotten how many days had passed since she'd defeated Phobos and cast him into prison. She'd assumed that since her powers had restored light and life to the land, the rebels—former rebels had no need to report on more battles or to ration supplies (especially since all that Phobos had stolen was restored) or seek her advice on trade restrictions against this or that noble.

Yet there she was, and Elyon felt exhausted. She needed someone her age (well, somewhat her age) to liven up such often adult proceedings.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"

"Wali, son of Wace," drawled Thomas Brown, shaking his head. "You mind queueing up like everybody else?"

The young man stumbled as he approached the dais, and his red bandana fell over his eyes comically. Clearing his throat, he bowed quickly and popped up before he announced, "I've got news from the front lines."

"Yeah? So does everyone behind you," said Thomas.

Wali puffed out his chest. "I've got news from Caleb, son of Julian, unless our leader is no longer important to the true crown of Meridian."

Elyon perked and stepped from the dais.

"Caleb? Did he make it? Did he make it to Cavigor?" she asked with growing excitement. "Did he find Cedric?"

Wali smirked at her adopted father, now-bodyguard. He knelt again and replied, "Yes, Your Majesty, the army made it to Cavigor, and yes, we found Cedric."

Elyon's breath hitched as she smiled. This was good! This was good so far—no mention of death. Then again, he hadn't gotten far in his report—

"Your Majesty..."

The young queen gazed at the woman she had called 'Mother' for thirteen years. Eleanor Brown hadn't looked so solemn since the days leading to Parents' Night, the night she had lost Elyon.

The night he took me away from her, she remembered.

"It's... noble that you have so much concern for Cedric," said Eleanor, "even after all that he's done, but..." She paused, clearly mulling over her words. "... there are many other people who need your attention just as much."

Then Eleanor gazed at Wali and asked with stony authority, "Have you anything else to report?"

The messenger cringed beneath her fearsome gaze. He glanced wide-eyed at Elyon, like a boy fearful of his date's protective mother. Eventually, he overcame his fright and replied, "Yes, captain. Ummm... The lands between Meridian and Cavigor have been liberated, and that includes the prison itself. I, uhh..."

The playfulness in his eyes receded, and he cleared his throat before he resumed.

"I don't know how to mince words, captain. And I certainly don't want to upset Her Majesty here—Infinite brightness to the Light 'n' all. But, um... of all the things I've seen, conditions at the prison were more than harsh. They were downright atrocious.

"Now I've spied some guards around Meridian, before the liberation, who were supposed to be freshly discharged from there, and they looked... bad. But the ones on active duty? They looked like prisoners themselves! I swear upon the Heart of Kandrakar, it was hard telling one from the other. It shook us up some bad, captain, I'm afraid to say. But there's no way to mince it."

A grim silence began to hush every conversation in the background of this dismal message. Elyon's heart began to beat febrilely with growing dread.

"And Cedric?" she asked. "Is he okay?"

Wali's lips became a thin seam, and he averted his eyes for a moment.

"That's... kinda why Caleb sent me, Your Majesty. He knows how much the old snake means to you, but... well... It's important you know, Your Majesty, just like the captain here said: a lot of people suffered under Phobos. A lot, and it's startin' to look like even his most elite warriors didn't have as good a life as some of us thought.

"But you don't need to see any of it to believe me, Your Majesty. And I mean that. You don't need to see any of it. And Caleb asked me to ask you not to visit Cedric when he does come to Meridian. Not now, anyway. Not until he's all healed up, and that's gonna take some time, Majesty. Lots of it."

If Wali or Eleanor or Thomas had continued the conversation, Elyon had no recollection of it. Her mind had descended into stark bleakness, and she could only think: He's dead, but he's not dead, but he might as well be. Oh, Go-o-od, it's that bad, and now I can't see him? He might as well be dead, oh, God, he's probably suffering, he probably wishes he were dead so he wouldn'thavetojustwhy, why, why, why, whywhywhy -

Elyon wanted to see Cedric. She knew she would probably regret it. She wasn't used to seeing what war, torture, and imprisonment did to people, but she still wanted to see him. She wanted to see exactly what that bastard Phobos had done to her beloved friend. Oh, God, she wanted to scream—she wished she could scream, and she didn't care if she screamed this or that expletive and if Eleanor or Thomas reprimanded her. Phobos had done this to her. Phobos had done terrible things to him! To Cedric, her beautiful, kind, sad-eyed Cedric!

"Elyon! Honey!"

Eleanor had not called Elyon by her name without her royal title or by any endearment since the native Metamooran had become an active soldier again. To do so defied certain etiquette, but this breach awoke Elyon from her apoplexy.

The girl gazed at her adopted mother and, on the verge of tears, she whimpered, "I wanna go home."

"Elyon..." Eleanor knelt before her, tucking Elyon's hair behind her ears with motherly strokes.

The girl's chest heaved and collapsed as she choked on her anger and grief.

"I can't do this any more," she whimpered before her voice rose and echoed violently in the Great Hall: "I can't do this any more!"

Distress seized the assembly. Elyon was their Light, the Light of Meridian, and to hear her sobbing, whatever the reason, alarmed every one of them. But they didn't really understand. She knew most of them had fought against Cedric, and despite the fact that he had betrayed Phobos and aided their Light, his metanoia soothed their bitterness minimally.

But she still loved him, loved him in way beyond friendship, loved him in a way he had said he would never dare requite until she was older. He was more than worthy of his nobility in her eyes, her chivalrous, loyal, sorrowful, tormented knight in shining, green armour.

No one had prepared Elyon for this—for war, for its aftermath. The worst conflicts she had ever dealt with centred around verbal duels with the Grumper Sisters or the fights she occasionally saw started by Uriah and his goons. No one had prepared her for soldiers her age fighting against guards twice or thrice as old, yet these kids somehow functioned in... this. They coped better than she did because they were used to having their friends get 'disappeared' or injured or... or...

"Ellie? Ellie? Elyon?"

"Elyon... baby girl... Wake up, sweetie."

The young queen blinked rapidly, and she focused on the familiar faces before her. "Mmm... wha... What's going on?"

Thomas and Eleanor smiled, stroking her head and caressing her hands and arms.

"Sweetie," Eleanor cooed, "you had a panic attack. We got you out of the hall. You're in your bedroom now."

"You've been working way too hard," said Thomas.

"We were so scared for you, honey. But now, you can get some rest."

Elyon's muscles twitched and ached as she sat. She clung to one of the pillows and wobbled back and forth.

"I can't do this," she said. "I just can't handle all of this. I thought... being the Light of Meridian, healing the land would be enough. But I didn't heal everything, just this city and the towns nearby. There's still Phobo's friends to fight, and there's, like, a lot of people who haven't been helped. And I'm supposed know how to do that? Why does everyone keep coming to me when I don't have that kind of know-how, and I don't..."

She gazed into her adopted parents' eyes. Indeed, they ceased to be her bodyguards. They were her father and mother, present to listen and comfort her.

"... I don't have the... the maturity. I don't have the ability to handle all this."

Eleanor cooed as she and Thomas hugged her.

"I'm so sorry," whimpered the young queen.

"Nooo. No, baby, you have nothing to be sorry about," said Eleanor with a smile. "Elyon, you're still very, very young, and you've never had the kind of experiences that have shaped the people of this world. It doesn't make you a terrible person."

"And neither does the helplessness you feel," added Thomas.

"That's right. We've all been there, your dad and I especially when we... couldn't save your mother or father. But when it comes to knowing things—or not—all you have to say is, 'I don't know.' It's the most honest answer you can give when you really don't know, and you just have that person come to us, and we'll take care of it for you.

"But Ellie, you have to also remember this: the Light of Meridian means so-o-o much to the peoples of Metamoor. Whether it's you or when it was your mother, the Light is a symbol for light and life and stability. The power that flows out from her, out into the world and keeps it in harmony. That's the kind of thing the people are looking for when they seek your attention."

Then Eleanor sighed and added, "But popularity can take it's toll. And I think a lot of people forget that you're not Queen Chesed. You're Elyon, a loving little girl who's still learning so much about this world."

"And even when you are a grown-up," said Thomas with a chuckle, "you'll still need other grown-ups to help you."

Then her parents frowned, and Thomas conceded, "I guess Eleanor and I kind of forgot that you're still a kid. And you in particular... this is all nasty stuff to deal with. And it doesn't help when Mum and I are all formal with you. I mean, there's a reason why we can't just call you 'Elyon' or 'sweetie' or—"

"'Perky, purple pumpkin pie?'" asked Elyon with a smile, eliciting their laughter.

"Or 'perky, purple pumpkin pie,'" said Eleanor. "The point is, Ellie, even when we have to address you a certain way out there, it doesn't mean we've stopped loving you like our baby girl."

Elyon needed to hear someone tell her that they loved her, not as their holy monarch but as a person. She knew that her parents spoke the truth when they gave her a final tight, warm embrace before departing. She knew that they could address the concerns of the myriad of people whom inundated the Great Hall. She wouldn't dwell on the dark crimes committed against Cedric or anyone else for that matter. Phobos was gone. Justice had been served and would continue to be served.

He'll be okay. He'll be okay. Caleb knows what he's doing, too. They'll make sure everything's okay. Everyone's okay... Cedric will be okay...

Annotations:

Aaronagim (pl.) a race of serpentine shape-shifters native to Žeayia Yikþ on the planet Metamoor. This is the name by which they go publicly.

Land of the Lotus (n.) in the native Aaronag language, Žeayia Yikþ, a land marked with numerous rivers, lakes, and swamps and pocketed with temperate broadleaf and coniferous forests and several deserts.

Infinite brightness to the Light 'n' all (phrase) from the comics. The actual acclaim is 'Infinite brightness to the Light of Meridian!' but Wali (also derived from the comics) is about as informal as one of the Three Stooges.

Queen Chesed (name) Elyon and Phobos's mother. I've abandoned the name 'Weira' from the cartoon series and renamed the queen after the Hebrew principle of 'loving-kindness.'

Disclaimer: The author of this fanfiction makes no claim of ownership over existing properties within the W.I.T.C.H. franchise. The author makes no monetary gain from writing this fanfiction, which is written solely for entertainment.