WARNING: THIS IS A SEQUEL! Please read "I'm Only Human" first to better understand what is transpiring in this story.
Radioactive
Chapter One:
A long time ago, a battle raged.
The All-World existed, free of restrictions and separation, where those born of magic and those born of humanity could coexist. The races relied upon each other, neither thriving without the success of the other, and for hundreds of millennia it worked. The humans toiled on the earth and prepared it for the future. The Faye and their magical followers protected the people, using their magic to grow crops and further the success of the beautiful planet they shared. Children played with goblins and pixies while the Faye of the royal family were treated like Gods, stories of their immortality passed down among the humans from generation to generation.
Hundreds of thousands of years before the dinosaurs roamed the earth, the great Goblin King Ariel the Tempest ruled over all races with kindness, mercy and love. For humans cannot exist without magic, and magic cannot exist without humans. The All-World thrived but for one fault; humanity. The humans were weak willed and weak minded. They were filled with emotions not recognized by the magical folk like greed and envy and rage. They lusted over the power of magic and sought time and time to claim it for themselves. Each attempt to steal magic left them weak and in smaller numbers, yet they attacked. Again and again they ravaged the magical kingdoms, bringing some creatures to the brink of extinction and removing the existence of others all together.
For nothing in this world is more dangerous than greed.
It was Ariel the Tempest that created the spell that caused the Schism. He summoned all of his strength and magical ability to split the All-World in two, creating the Aboveground for the humans and the Underground for those granted the affinity of magic. As his greatest act as King, Ariel the tempest created memory magic, a magic that would seep all knowledge of magic and the creatures of the Underground from the minds of every human. No stories, no memories, no nightmares. It was as if magic had never existed.
But remember, humans cannot exist without magic and magic cannot exist without humans. And thus our story begins.
His chest rose and fell rapidly, his heart pounding in his chest as he flew down familiar halls and through familiar chambers. He knew his father would be in the main throne room and he would not stop until he reached him. He could not stop, not yet.
"Come back!" A young goblin yelled, out of breath as she chased him down hall after hall. Her little legs were no match for his wings. The small Faye boy was barely three feet tall, his cheeks puffed from his adolescence, his soft white hair falling in tendrils around his face. His clothing was dark and hung tightly to his body, tailored and fit for his frame. He was highborn, a Prince of the Underground, and he was the last hope for magic.
His dark wings rescinded, disappearing as he burst through the final door and into the elaborate throne room. He had been here only a few times in his three hundred years, always chased away by one of the Faye Guard or caught by his mother before he could enter the main doors. But no one stood in his way, not this time, not now. Magic had been fading for months, draining from the immortals as if it had never existed. Many had died; more had fallen ill or lost their magic all together.
Yet he held the key to save them all.
"Papa!" He cried, out of breath as he sprawled across the floor. His hands shot out to brace himself, crying out in pain as he fell before the throne on hands and knees. This was not the way he had expected this to go, this was not the way he had imagined his grand entrance. He was nowhere near the hero he imagined himself in his dreams.
His father rose from the throne, crossing to where his child lay sprawled and lifting him back to his feet. "You shouldn't be here."
"But Papa!" The small boy cried, grasping onto his father's robes as if his life depended on it. "I know what to do! I know how to save everyone."
"Everyone?" His father asked, his interest piqued. "And who exactly does everyone entail?"
"Everyone!" The small Faye cried out, louder than was necessary. "The humans, the goblins, the trolls, the pixies, the Faye. Everyone!"
"And how do you expect to do that, little warrior?" His father asked, giving him the dignity of placing him back upon his feet again.
The small boy straightened, puffing out his chest in pride. "Come."
He did not wait for his father to agree nor give him the option to refuse him, the young boys wings were out once more and he was speeding through the doors of the throne room. Corridor after corridor they traveled, determination etched upon the child's face as his father followed. Everything hung in the balance, every life in both worlds rested in his hands. If the magic was too strong, if his ideas didn't work, there were so many things that could go wrong. There was so much lying in the hands of one little Faye boy only three hundred and twenty-two years of age.
The Goblin Prince.
"Stay." He finally commanded, turning to his father and signaling for the older Faye to wait in the doorway. They had reached the highest point in the Royal Castle, an open air balcony that had been meant as a place of reflection for the Queen, but the Queen never visited this place. Only her son played among its stones and hidden treasures.
"What are you-"
But the small boy held up his hand, silencing his father. For a long moment there was only silence as the magic in the air began to rise. At first it was a sizzle, a feeling, like chills, or a shift in the barometric pressure. But slowly, the boy began to glow. It was faint at first but brighter and brighter it grew, his face contorting in pain as he concentrated on the magic he was issuing.
"Stop!" His father yelled, reaching out only to be struck back by his sons own immense power.
"Stay back!" The boy yelled, wrapping his arms around his chest as he focused on the spell at hand.
"If you exhaust your magical energy, you will die!" His father yelled, fear written on every inch of his face. "You must stop!"
"And if I don't everyone dies!" The small boy yelled in return, his pain replaced by anger. His words were strained, still marked by the pain he felt. Like a thousand little needles trying to fight their way out from his core, but the small boy held on. "I take this risk for the Pixies and the Goblins and the Hollows. I do this for the Guardians and the Faye and the Trolls. I do this for the Banshee and for magic. But I do this for the humans, too!"
"Please," his father begged, terror evident in the great King's voice. "Stop this madness."
"Mama says," he boy struggled. "Magic cannot exist without the humans, and humans without the magic."
"She is right."
Slowly he lifted his hand out for his father, the magic that had once stopped the great King from entering released. The great King fell forward in desperation, grabbing onto his young son's hand and sharing the burden of his child's spell. "Then let us be a portal father. Let us bridge our worlds."
The light grew, intensifying until it engulfed them both before everything went black.
It would be three days before the boy woke, laying in his elaborately decorated bed with his mother and father both cradling him from either side. His eyes lolled, lazily taking in his surroundings as a groan of discomfort fell from his lips.
"I am victorious?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke.
His mother wailed, pulling him tighter into his chest as she hummed a silent prayer to the Gods, grateful her child had survived.
His father let out a booming laugh, almost loud enough to mask the tears that were cascading down his own face. "Aye, son. You were victorious."
"The gate has been created?" The boy asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and gently shoving pudgy hands against his mothers face as she sought to plant kisses on every inch of his features.
"Two gates." His father chortled. "A book and a mirror."
"I meant to create only one." He frowned. "Do they work?"
"Splendidly. Now you need only assign someone to their care." His father spoke, his features turning serious. "You must choose wisely, my child."
"I?" The boy repeated, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Isn't the assignment of tasks the job of the King, great father?"
"Aye. You must choose wisely."
"But I am just a Prince. Nothing more, just a prince." The boy spoke, struggling to free himself from his mother's arms and rising to a sitting position before his father.
"You were but a Prince. Have your studies taught you nothing? When does a Prince become a King?" His father asked, coaxing his son to his own conclusions.
"By death or transcendence." The boy spoke, his eyes widening in understanding. "Two portals."
"Two portals." His father confirmed, nodding slightly.
"All hail the King!" His mother chimed, her voice like a choir of angels as she pressed more kisses to the face of her child.
"All hail Jareth." Oriel beamed with pride. "All hail the King."
The Author ripped her eyes away from the mirror, breathing in a shallow breath. Every time she watched his stories in the mirror she was always left feeling ashamed. So much of her previous life had been spent believing he was a monster, but the Goblin King had done so much for humanity, so much for the people of the Underground… and even so much for her.
The years had rolled by slowly. With every passing moment it was as if the girl who had once existed became a myth, just another story on one of the many pages of her heavy book. Simpler things, like the name of her father and the day she was born, had faded within the first hundred years. She forgot the names of her friends and the finer details of the dreadful woman who had wished her away. She forgot the human things she had learned in school and the name of the dog she had watched grow old from afar. Human lives were such fleeting things compared to the lives of Faye and the Author had no need for such trivial memories. She knew that it was essential she hold onto the person she had once been, but forgetting in the Underground was just too easy.
Standing in front of a mirror, the Author admired her reflection. She was tall and pale, her honey almond colored eyes reflected the sunlight that streamed in through the open window and bounded off her desk and her belongings. Her dark hair fell in long tresses around her delicate face and seemed to highlight the beauty of her flowing silver gown. She was every bit the beauty that her fairytales depicted her as. One foot in humanity and one foot out, the girl and the Faye, the Author and the Princess.
"My name is Sarah." She breathed, her voice as soft as the morning bells that chimed from the top of the castle in the heart of the Labyrinth. "I was born in the human world in 1970. I am two hundred and seventy six years old. I am Faye. I am the Author. I am intended to the Goblin King."
"And you are late."
Smirking slightly, Sarah turned from her intense gaze into the mirror and greeted one of her oldest friends. "Whatever would I do without you to keep me in check?" She grinned, sweeping her fingers through her bangs and taking a deep breath. "Is he very angry?"
The Faye general crossed his arms over his chest and appraised her with a knowing glance. His tone of voice screamed annoyance but his smirk told her otherwise. "When is our liege not angry?"
"When I do as I'm told. When the trolls are far enough beyond the border." She began rattling off the many things she knew made their King happy. "When a Wished Away chooses his or her magic. When the pixies sing."
He held up a hand to silence her. "I get it, I get it. My mistake." He held out his hand to her, which she gladly accepted. "Maybe one day you could make me happy, Sarah."
"And how would I do that?" She asked, tucking her arm around his to get a better grip on his arm.
"By using your own magic to teleport to your engagements one time." Slowly his magic seeped through her, pulling them from her hide away in the tower and into the sprawling gardens before the castle. It stood tall and brilliant in the late afternoon light, seeming to glow and shimmer. She had memorized every corridor and every room during her life in the Underground, but it never lost its wonder.
"Where is the fun in that?" She teased, leaning her head against his shoulder affectionately. "I have to keep you busy somehow." Slowly they began their walk through the gardens, heading to the throne room she knew housed her King. "Farnig… May I ask you something?"
The Faye general inclined his head, one eyebrow raising in curiosity, "Anything."
"Do you remember, during my trials, when you left me with the Queen Mother to learn about the position as the Author?" He nodded so she continued. "She told me that Oriel created my mirror and the Book of Ages… but that's not true, is it?"
Farnig shook his head. "I only know the stories. This was hundreds of years before my time, you understand. But I do believe it was a young Prince Jareth who created the spell that brought about the position of the Author. It is what made him King."
Sarah nodded, biting down on her bottom lip. "I saw those moments in the mirror today." She explained, bracing for his attack.
"You know better than to look into the past of our King. He has made that much quite clear." Farnig explained, releasing her arm and sending her a stern look. "The history of the royal family is completely off limits to the Author."
"But I'm not just the Author." She sighed in exasperation. "If he expects me to be his wife he cannot demand his past remain locked to me."
"Sarah." Farnig sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes before appraising her. "There are things about magic you still do not understand, things about the Schism and the great war. There may be reasons certain periods of time are locked away to the Author. I implore you to speak to the King before you dig any further into his secrets."
"So he does have secrets!" She sighed, her voice a bit louder than she had meant for it to be.
"Everyone has secrets, Sarah." His voice was stern now, all sense of playfulness drained from it. "If you want to know more about your intended, ask him."
"Maybe I will." She stood taller as the doors to the throne room swung open, revealing the Goblin King lazily lying over his throne.
"You're late." He smirked, rising to his feet as his betrothed entered the room.
"A queen is never late." She teased, leaving Farnig's side to cross the throne room to the King.
"You're not a queen yet." He rebutted, reaching out to take her hand in his.
"Then yes," She smirked. "I'm late."
He was about to open his mouth to speak when the castle walls rumbled…
And the screaming began.
Author's Notes: I just couldn't stay away! I got the idea for this story the other night while listening to some music and it all just seemed to fall into place. I know those of you who followed along with I'm Only Human were expecting a cushy love story between Jareth and Sarah. But if you've ever read any of my other stories, you know I'm more into tragedy and loss than I am into love and romance. So while you will see a lot more of Sarah and Jareth and I will put in some flash backy scenes to show you how their relationship grew from where we saw it in the final chapter to where it is now.
Hope you enjoyed and I hope you're ready for a feels ride.
Read and review please. I'll only keep this going if you guys actually want to read it :)
All my love; Kaasuten