Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed, but the WB does.
AN: A review would be nice! I know the writing's choppy, but it gets better. I wrote the beginning chapters a few months ago, but the newer chapters will be better.
Chapter 12: Arrival
Xaphan paced threateningly around the throne in which Selia sat in. The Oracle could almost feel his anger as it poured out from the demon in waves. As she stared into the glass sphere, her crystal ball swirled with a royal blue smoke. "Tell me Oracle. What do you see in the future?" Xaphan snarled.
"I see." Selia began, hoping to buy sometime. "I see evils domination over good. I see good's defeat at our hands."
Vassago conjured a fireball in his hand; a scare tactic the Source had been nice enough to teach him. "The smoke is blue Oracle." He scoffed, moving his arm back, as if he were about to throw the ball. "Only red smoke shows the future, blue smoke shows the past, gray smoke shows the present. You lie, Oracle."
Selia, although nervous on the inside, didn't let it show. In truth, she never had a vision about what was happening right now. For the first time in her life, she felt like her name implied: blind. "I swear, my lord, I am different." She begged. "Why do you think my visions are more precise, and powerful than any other?"
"What is going on here?" The Source yelled in an angry tone, making Vassago nervously drop the fireball that was in his hand.
Xaphan swung around, eyes wide with fear. "My lord, we were just discussing the loyalty this Oracle has to the Underworld."
The Source walked around the Triad, taking a spot in front of Selia. "Selia's loyalty should go unquestioned. Was she not the one who found the book for us? Did she not locate the greatest power evil has ever known?"
Melchom bowed, hoping for forgiveness. He knew this was going over board, but would the other two listen to him? Definitely not! "Of course it was, my lord. Our mistake."
The Source looked down in disgust. "Leave us." The Triad, in response, bowed and shimmered out. Taking down his hood to show his blue features, the Source smiled at Selia. "What was that really about?"
The Oracle got up from his throne and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "They plan on turning against you. They must have sensed a…change in you." She replied happily.
"A change?" The Source said, cocking an eyebrow in slight confusion.
"Yes, your soul has re awakened." Selia smirked. "You wish to go to your parents."
Gulping, the Source responded. "I know." He sighed, sadness lacing his features. "I wish to see what my childhood would have been like."
"Then why don't you?" Selia said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. To an outsider, the Source of All Evil showing his soft side might be strange, but Selia knew the true man underneath the hood. She knew him better than anyone else in this world.
"I am the Source of All Evil, I doubt they would want to see me." The Source shook his head, as he paced around the throne room. "It's too late for my human side to know the joys of life."
Selia's heart broke at the tone of his voice. "You know, my lord, your adulthood that you have now is the cause of a spell. Your infancy could be restored back with a spell."
"What do you mean?" The Source replied, turning his attention to the beautiful woman.
"I mean go to them. Have them create a spell to bring you back to the age you right fully are. Have your parents raise you. Be happy, and live." Selia whispered, looking down at the cold floor.
Shock laced the Source's face, as he responded to what she said. "But…but what about you?"
"I know this is a cliché but, as long as you're happy, I'm happy." She replied with tearful eyes. She had seen this in her vision, but she never imagined what she had to do would be this hard.
"I don't know, Selia." The Source muttered, slumping his shoulders in defeat.
Selia reached out and ran her hand down his face. Lifting up his chin she looked him directly in the eyes. "Go to them." She ordered. The Oracle gave a small smile when the demon teleported out of the throne room in a flash of flames.
"Tell me Seer, where is it?" Melchom barked, looking over the shoulder of the brown haired demon. Immediately after being told to leave by the Source, the three had shimmered out to the new Seer's lair. His disrespect would cost the Source his own life, and the life of Selia, as well. The only problem was they lacked the power to vanquish him, that's why they needed the Seer to show them how they could.
The woman stood above a pool of silvery liquid, her hand swished above it, as she spoke in a hushed voice. "The Valley of Gehenna. But there is another whom you would be interested in. With out him, you all shall fail." The Seer said in a monotonous voice. She didn't really care about what they wanted, she just wanted to get paid and get them out of there.
Xaphan approached the fortuneteller. "Who is it you speak of?" He asked, running a hand over his chin.
The Seer looked up at the demon, hoping to answer his question. "His name is Bacarra, he is the most powerful warlock in existence. His power equals all of your's combined."
Vassago snarled in disbelief. "No warlock is that powerful." He said, showing his belief of demons being racially better than warlocks.
Smirking, the Seer replied. "Maybe not before, but you will need Bacarra's power."
Xaphan sighed, not liking the idea of having to form a partnership with another warlock. One, in his opinion, was good enough. "Where can we find him?"
Looking down in the pool, the Seer needed only one word to answer. "Sheol."
Phoebe watched as her lover paced nervously around the living room. He had been like this for days now, ever since Leo had taken him down into the Underworld to find their child. Oh how she cried herself to sleep at night when the thought of her son popped into her mind. The thought of her son—their son—prancing around the Underworld as the Source of All Evil revolted her to no end; the only thing that kept her alive from the heartbreak was the hope of him converting back to good, like Wyatt had told her he could. "Cole, she said he would come." Phoebe whispered, trying to calm the man down.
Cole looked down at the witch, sighing. "Yes, but that was three days ago. Perhaps something happened to him?"
Phoebe smiled at the man. The care he showed for his son without even meeting him was really touching. "Cole, you saw how powerful he was. It took Wyatt, and Leo just to fend him off. Albeit, Wyatt wasn't trying to vanquish him."
"I know he can take care of himself, but still." Cole shrugged, dropping down into his seat.
"But what?" The witch questioned.
Cole turned his head, looking at Phoebe. "I should have been there for him." He scowled, berating himself for leaving his son. "He shouldn't be the Source. I should have fought for him, like my father fought for me. He should be good. Good like you; good like my father."
Phoebe reached over and patted his knee, hoping to comfort him. "Cole, you saw his face when we found out we were his parents. If he wanted to, he could have killed us. But he didn't; that in and of itself obviously means there's good in him. We'll fight for his humanity to come out. We'll fight to have him to live a good life. I'll fight just like I should have fought for you."
Cole shook his head as he thought about the worst. "But what happens if there is no good in him? If being the Source has…corrupted him?"
Phoebe bit her lip, her stomach churning at the thought. "There is, Cole. You were a demon for a hundred years before you met me. Was there not good in you? Even when you were possessed by the Source, you — he — never once hurt me. No matter what, that goodness always stayed with you. Our mutual goodness is somewhere within his heart."
The conversation was interrupted as the doorbell gave a ring, which was followed by Wyatt calling out that he would get it. Cole and Phoebe heard a few muffled voices, and then footsteps. A few seconds later Wyatt emerged from around the corner followed by a man no one had ever seen before. The face on the other hand was unmistakable; tall, elegant features, with dark hair, and crystalline blue eyes were how people would describe him. He wore a nice pair of black slacks with a red dress shirt. His clothes, his looks, as well as his mannerisms, screamed out his father. There was no mistaken it; this was the son of Cole and Phoebe. The Source gave a shy wave. "Hello."