Author's note: Since this is my first time venturing into the 'Charmed' fandom, I think I should give a word or two but nothing comes to mind. Hmm…what to say? Enjoy?

(sighs) Not exactly a winning conversationalist here.

Oh, special note to Teal-lover…if you ever came across this fic. Yeah, I think you would like to back-up and not read this fic…I haven't exactly decide the pairing but potentially it'll be slash…and I know how you dislike that…This goes to you who finds homosexuality unpleasant too.

(adds in bored voice) Flamers are also welcome. If you besmirch my story, that's fine and all, but do try to present evidence that my story suck...and that you actually read it.

This story is for me (always a priority) and to those whose fic I read. You can consider this as a repayment.

Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that 'Charmed' or any of its characters do not belong to me…they belong to their responsible parties...whoever they are.

By the way, this fic was inspired by 'Julie Garwood' and her book the prize.

Chapter 1

Christopher Perry stood in the morning shadows of the walkway atop the wall of his castle, eying the scene below him with two sets of stones nestling in his right hand. They were losing the battle. In another twenty minutes the castle would be breached. The shield around the fortress had already been broken down.

It was inevitable and Chris knew it. They were sorely outnumbered. Yes, it was inevitable, but damn it was maddening.

Nearly fifty yards away, two figures sat on their mounts, watching as their soldiers progressively tried to demolish his door. Both were blondes, but the bigger of the two caught Chris' attention. This was the fourth attempt the Haliwells sent their whelps to 'exact the Haliwell wrath' upon Chris' holding in the past week.

So, this was the mighty Wyatt, twice blessed child of the eldest Charmed One and white-lighter turned elder. From his position he was turning to be a curse for him.

His vision swept to next person. The boy was probably the same age as Chris. He was wearing a smile, no doubt, contemplating victory. Chris frowned in annoyance. He remembered the other boy. He was the first to come to the holding, raving mad and starting this entire fiasco.

Well, that wasn't exactly true, he thought wryly. Chris' brother, Cameron was the primary culprit...indirectly speaking. He was dealing out with demons as he normally has done in the past and he provided the demons with a poison. A poison with an antidote only his family has access to. He only made the mistake of making a deal with demons that were after the Charmed Ones, not that he knew of it.

Suffice to say, the demons attacked the Charmed Ones and got vanquished but not before poisoning two of the Charmed Ones and pointing out to Chris' direction to which Chris thought it was more due to the demon's stupidity and the lack of sensibility not to gloat rather than an answer forced by threat of torture. To make things worse, their land bordered the Haliwell's; it didn't take any time for one of them to come for 'justice'.

Chris remembered when the second child of the eldest Charmed One caused a commotion in his holding like a lunatic, demanding for Cameron and in the process interrupting Chris' visit to his younger brother, Colin. To his chagrin, his brother (luck always smiled on Cameron he supposed) was away on one of his long trips into other planes and it was up to Chris to manage his mess.

The other three had fought like children. Chris and his brother's men had managed to ward them off easily.

This one is different. He wouldn't be chase away. And the blonde even managed, to Chris' dismay shattered his shield (the thought that the blonde put quite some effort to accomplish the feat and had to recuperate afterwards soften the blow to his pride somewhat) whilst his predecessors could only put a dent on it. He was also more experienced in battle tactics. Chris' men falling back into the keep and were fast losing ground was a testimony to that.

Chris played with a couple of stones in his hand as he regarded the two figures that symbolised the destruction of his home.

The two were easy targets, especially the bigger of the two. The fact that the two were the ones responsible for bringing the army to his doorsteps and hurting all the people under his charge sweetened his concentration.

Aye, victory would be in the hands of the barbarians by the end of the day. Chris couldn't stop that from happening. He was realistic enough to admit that. But Chris would not go down without marking their leader, as a sort of reminder, to the heinous act being committed on that day.

But first, a little gift was in order for the other brother. One good push deserves another, Chris thought wryly as he threw one stone towards the smaller of the two Haliwells.

His victim was busily talking to his brother, probably gloating over their victory. With his telekinesis, his aim was true; hitting the boy right on the middle, toppling him head first into the deep water of the castle's moat. A second later, his brother was there, fishing him out while searching for the attacker. Chris quickly ducked to avoid discovery.

Chris peeked over to see a few seconds later. The twice bless was still eying for any forthcoming attacks, but after nothing happened he relaxed his stance. He even remove his own helmet, to wipe the sweat off his forehead, he probably thought it was a random fluke from the enemy side.

Now was his chance. Chris squeezes the rock tightly and began the chanting:

Hear my words; hear the plea in my rhymes;

Soar unseen in this rarest of times,

Fly true and hit that twice-blessed slime;

Only mark him for his heinous crime.

Chris held out his hand, the stone floated an inch above his palm, before pelting off. It sliced through the air, half whistling, half snarling into the air, seeking its target.

His prey was knocked off of his feet, the stone smacking right across his forehead. He was thrown backwards; landing a fair distance away. Chris hadn't meant to kill his adversary or else he would have aimed at the temple and wrought a different spell.

He didn't know why he did so. Killing the twice blessed child would have solved all Chris' problems, but he just decided to stun him. Maybe he was tired with all the killing. Yes, that must be why he did so. Chris shook his head to clear all the thoughts and proceeded to smile. By the gods, Wyatt Haliwell would wear that shameful mark for the remainder of his life.

Wyatt recovered quickly, sitting up. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, but strangely he didn't feel any pain. He prodded at his injury to discover that a chunk of his flesh was torn away.

The other blonde had come to his assistance, holding his palm above the cut. Wyatt felt the familiar warmth of healing and knew that his injury would be mended. However, the frown on his brother's face concerned him.

"What?" the twice blessed demanded gruffly.

The younger brother unsheathed his sword, flipping it to the side to act as a mirror for his brother to see. What he saw made him scowled as darkly as his brother, if not more. Where an unblemished healed skin was suppose to be, a long jagged scar was present.

His brother's healing prowess had always been perfect. Wyatt instantly suspected a spell.

He gazed to the top of the wall surrounding the holding. From the hit, he had deduced the direction from where the attack came from. Had his enemy really aimed at him from that spot? Surely the distance was too great, even for the best of archers. Wyatt can't even catch a glimpse of any shadowy figure. And if that was the case, his enemy had a great eye, because unless Wyatt was mistaken, the enemy had struck not once but twice.

But why didn't they just kill him and his brother. They could have succeeded if they use any other weapon. Wyatt shook his head. Maybe their attacker was playing with them. Aye, that must be it.

Fury coursed in his vein. By his mother, he would find the culprit and returned the favour back with equal measure.

The thought cheered him considerately.

Wyatt donned back his helmet.

He saw his men were throwing all sorts of magical strikes; fireballs, energy balls and the like. Their enemies happily returned the favour with their own powers.

It was time to end this.

A/N: I have no idea what you people think of this, but I certainly like it. Better than my last two fic…(blanches at the thought)

I certainly improved. If you find any mistake…although I'm sure you won't…Do tell me.