Well, this is my long-coming sequel to my story "Beginnings." I hope you all like it!

(I own nothing)

Prologue-

Millicent slowly turned to face Merlin, and frowned sadly. "Don't you see? It's too late now. This is who I am, and I cannot change that. I don't want to. But, Merlin, it doesn't mean my feelings for you have changed. Come with me, and we'll escape this cataclysm that's coming. The world may end, but we can survive it. You and I… we'll never have to answer to anyone else. We'll never need anyone but each other."

Merlin looked sadly at Millicent, and lowered his hand. "I can't do that Millicent. I can't forsake the world just to protect myself. I won't turn my back on all I believe in."

Millicent looked as though she had just been hit in the chest by a hammer, and that was exactly how she felt. "I see… Then I do not mean as much to you as I thought."

"You still mean the world to me. But I can't watch you go down such a dark road. Please Millicent… Let's go back to the way we were. You can go back to your old self… back to me."

Millicent chocked back tears, as she clenched her fists. "Do not… call me… Millicent…" she growled. Suddenly, she turned to Merlin, and her eyes became completely lifeless. "Why can't you understand? Why doesn't anyone understand?! I am not Millicent anymore! I… am… Maleficent!!!"

---

Merlin awoke with a start, and sat up in his bed. This was the fifth time this week he'd had that same nightmare… the same one that haunted his sleeping mind ever since that awful night fifteen years ago.

"Why has it been getting worse?" he asked himself. He looked over to Archimedes birdhouse and was glad to hear his familiar snoring.

Deciding it would be pointless to try and sleep any longer, Merlin got up and put on his long blue robe, but didn't tie it, so that his white pants and bare chest were still visible. He paused to give a quick glance into his mirror.

I'm definitely not seventeen anymore, he thought as he looked at his reflection. Oh of course, he wasn't quite old, yet. He was only thirty-two, after all. Still, he was definitely not a young lad, anymore. Already his eyes were losing their blue luster, becoming darker and beadier. His hair was slightly longer, but he was acutely aware that his hairline had receded, even the slightest bit, and his face had become careworn. He rubbed his jaw, feeling the stubble of a beard. He was forgetting to shave more often than before. He was wondering if maybe he should just grow a beard.

Giving himself a small chuckle, Merlin turned away from the mirror and walked out the door of his small cottage to enjoy the warm summer night.

Living deep in the woods, where few entered for fear of wolves, afforded Merlin privacy, but he wished now as he looked up at the small patch of sky not blocked by trees that he could see more stars.

Not just stars, but worlds, he reminded himself. Each star is a world, in and of itself.

Looking up at the few stars he could see, Merlin wondered which star—which world—was now her home.

---

Silently, a lone figure made its way through the empty streets of Agrabah, headed for the city gates. The figure found it guarded, as always, but was able to slip past through a secret entrance, and snuck out into the desert.

"I don't see why we gotta go to all this trouble," a voice whispered. "Just who are we going to meet, anyway?"

"An old friend," the figure replied.

Out of the figure's robes came a red parrot, which flew up to perch on his pointed shoulder. "I still don't see why we gotta meet this friend of yours in the dead of night out in the stinkin' desert!"

"Patience, Iago, Patience," the figure chided. He was a tall, but oddly slender man in his thirties. He wore flowing black and red robes, a large turban, and had a thin goatee on his long face. In his hands he carried a staff which resembled a snake.

"Hello, Jafar," a smooth, quiet voice said, and Jafar turned to see a woman standing behind him. He had no idea how she had snuck up on him, but he recognized her right away.

"It's been a long time," he said with a smile. "Fifteen years, if I'm not mistaken."

"Indeed it has," the woman replied. She was also tall and slender, and wore a long, flowing black dress trimmed with purple. Her sleeves and the hem of her skirt fell to the ground, and her shaped like fire. Her collar rose high on her neck, and reminded one of bat wings, while her black hair was cut very short. But what Jafar recognized most were her pale green skin and yellow eyes.

"Who's this freak?" Iago asked, only to be knocked off of Jafar's shoulder by a raven, which swooped down and landed on the woman's shoulder.

"Thank you, Diablo," she said as she pet the bird tenderly. "Forgive my pet, he dislikes other birds."

"Yeah, I can see that," Iago grumbled as he got back onto Jafar's shoulder.

"You've certainly changed quite a bit since we last met," Jafar continued. "I understand you have come to make me an offer? Something about a special 'mission.' Isn't that right…? Millicent?"

The woman smiled softly and nodded. "Yes, that is correct. But please… call me Maleficent. And I have a proposition for you."