I woke up before everyone else the next morning; even Dodger was still fast asleep. Without making a sound I went over to the bag of things I had packed back home. I pulled out a hooded dark cloak, dark shirt, and dark tight pants. With the heaviest heart, I had to remove Daddy's patchy jacket and set it aside; I wouldn't be wearing it again. While I was unpacking I caught sight of the golden fleece my cousin Ares gave me. Curious, I thought picking it up to hold in front of me. I'd forgotten all about it until now. I didn't see what use it would be to me now, but on a whim, I decided to wear it under my dark shirt as a kind of undershirt. My only reasoning was that I wanted to carry something from the Greek side of my family on my person. It was the only personal item I would be carrying….

With my hood pulled up, I left my room, careful not to wake my canine companion. My feet tiptoed through the hall towards the staircase leading up to the deck. Before I got there though, I passed Harry's bedroom door. It was shut so I couldn't hear him gently snoring inside. Once I reached the front of his door, my feet ground to a halt. For a second I stood there like that, staring at the unresponsive polished wood. My lips parted ever so slightly as my left hand- the one not bandaged with my shirt on the palm- lifted up to press against the door. My eyes lowered with a single tear dripping down my cheek. That one tear was all I could allow myself to cry; I'd break down into an emotional wreck if I dared cry anymore. My thumb ran along the grain of the wood. Harry… I hope you know how much I love you. There're so many tender things I'd like to tell you once more. But most of all, I want to repeat those supreme words. "I love you, Harry…" It took every ounce of willpower in me to tear myself away from my beloved's doorway.

Escaping the Argo wasn't hard. I snuck away without a hitch; probably because no one thought I would actually go out on my own. But I left just like that, leaving no note or signal or anything. I simply slipped into the shadows of the morning, convinced I'd never see any of my dear friends again. But I could go happy at least, knowing that all of them- each and every one of them- were safe.

I ran for I don't know how long. I didn't even know if I was going in the right direction if I'm honest. All I knew is that I had to find the Horned King's castle somehow as soon as possible. For the first while, I just went inwards away from the coast. I had hoped that I'd run across some of Prydain's inhabitants who could stir me the right way, but no such luck. When I reached this particularly high point, I paused to survey the land in front of me. Lots of forests and valleys, but no signs of a castle.

Then, as if my divine relatives were watching and felt a pang of pity for me, someone came zooming through the sky towards me. I squinted, trying to get a better look at who it might be. But I didn't have to guess for long. My eyes grew in shock to see my great uncle, Zephyr, flying to meet me. I'd never met Zephyr in person before, but then that's true for the majority of my paternal family.

Zephyr is the personification of the West Wind. He's technically the god of the West Wind but he can also be considered as the West Wind himself. He glows this greyish translucent colour everywhere to represent the wind, has long silky hair, and wears nothing but the lower half of a toga which leaves a trail miles long behind him. His voice also echoed whenever he spoke. Despite being my great uncle, he looked roughly around the age of thirty. I know, I know; Greek gods all age differently. The fact that Zeus's own uncle looks younger than him isn't a big thing on Olympus.

Zephyr flew up to me and smiled. His hand extended out for mine. "Well, now, dear niece. Correct me if I'm mistaken but you appear to be lost." "You came all the way from Greece to help me?" I flashed him a grateful grin. My great uncle chuckled. "It's no trouble, really. Now then. You, child, are trying to go to the Horned King's castle, is that it?" "Yes," my head nodded. "Well, I'm afraid you won't make it like this. The castle's a two-day trek from here," he informed me. "Two days?!" It was his turn to nod this time. Then he drew in closer, still holding his hand out.

"I will take you to his castle, niece." "Y-You will?!" I gasped dumbfound and elated. "Of course. Why else would I be here?" Zephyr obviously had a lot more experience with handling girls than Thanatos. And yes; I'm well aware that my great uncle isn't romantically interested in women. What I meant is that he scooped me up into his arms with a lot more ease than the last Greek god to carry me anywhere. Wearing a comforting smile, Zephyr picked me up and looked down to me. "We'll be there a lot faster than two days, but it'll still take a while. Feel free to fall asleep if you want. But I should warn you, because I'm the West Wind your mind might fly back to the past if you do. Don't worry; it'll return to your body when you wake up." "Oh," I wasn't sure what to make of this news. Satisfied with that, Zephyr proceeded to race across the sky with me safely in his arms.

I can see why he told me to sleep if I'd like. For the first little while flying like this was so much fun. But soon enough it became boring when all I saw was trees and other greenery. I'm not sure when I fell to sleep in Zephyr's grip, but I know did at some point. I know this because at some point I opened my eyes, but I was no longer high up in the sky.

My eyes fluttered open only to find myself in a different position. It was like I was laying down on what seemed like the floor of somewhere. But when I was fully awake, I realized that I didn't have a body; it was only my mind here. The best way I can thing to describe it is like being a ghost. Your spirit is present, but you know your physical mass is elsewhere. Wherever my mind was, it was dark and damp; I'm pretty sure I was in a basement or cellar of some sort. Despite not having a body, I acted as if I had a form. My invisible arms propped me up on the floor as I glanced around my surroundings.

I was right; it appeared to be underground somewhere. Initially I didn't see anyone down there with me, but when my head turned forward, I saw an old man in a blue robe standing at a table. My eyes grew upon spotting him. I see; I must be in the Dark Ages again, like when I was sent back to London. I could figure that by how primitive everything around us looked. The man, who was wearing a pointy blue hat with a gold crescent moon and stars on it, stood in front of this skull laying on the table. Vapers came out of it as he waved his hands overtop it. As he did this, seemingly unaware of my visual presence in the room, I watched him intently. There was…. something about this man. I couldn't put my finger on it, and I had no memory of meeting him before; I didn't even know his name or who he was. But something about him tinged a bell inside my brain. He was extraordinarily powerful- I knew that just by looking at him.

The sorcerer continued fiddling with the skull on the table for a few minutes. Then, out for nowhere and quite unexpectedly, he stopped. He lowered his hands down at his sides. My heart skipped at beat when he suddenly looked directly at me. I mean he was staring right where I was sitting up on the floor. Now, I knew he couldn't be looking at me. This was in the past, after all; and I wasn't born when this originally happened. But something about the way he was watching me just now….. I could have sworn he saw me, even though I didn't have a physical body. It's as if he somehow knew I was there in the room with him. And he knew where I was too.

I had to give myself a mental kick. Oh, stop being such a moron, Mal. Of course he can't see you; he obviously doesn't know you are there. How could he? You weren't there when this occurred in reality. But then, why is he staring at me so hard like that? Duh. Likely because there's something behind you; there's no way he can see me. I got up to brush my non-self off just as someone was coming down the staircase. Checking to see who it was, I was astonished at the sight of Mickey Mouse entering the room. He wore a red robe and carried two buckets full of water in his hands. Once he got down the stairs, he set the buckets down and glanced to the sorcerer. I should note that the old man's eyes were still locked my way. "What are you looking at, Master?" Mickey asked.

There was no reply. I blinked from him back to the wizard. An abrupt compulsion came over me to explain myself. I still doubted he could see or hear me, but I felt the need to justify my presence, nonetheless. I think this was more for me than anything. Shyly, my hands fiddled with each other in front of me. "Erm, I…. I just fell asleep…. I mean, this is only my mind; my great uncle Zephyr's carrying my body currently. I'm going to the Horned King's castle to find the black cauldron," I sounded as about as confident as I looked.

To my shock and horror, the sorcerer's eyebrow raised up as if he was reacting to what I'd said. But…. But no, my hand rose up to my chest. That's impossible…. He can't hear me; he can't. Mickey kept looking from me to his master with confusion; he clearly didn't know I was there. But the wizard didn't take his eyes off me. That's when I was overcome with a different emotion- one of comprehension. My eyes slowly but steadily began to grow.

I don't understand….. Why does this man make such an impression on me? Why is he looking in my direction that way? I don't get it…. I've never met this wizard before in my life. So then why….. My lips unconsciously opened. Why do I get the feeling he's looking at me almost protectively so? Like he knows what I'm about to do? He couldn't….. He wouldn't have….. All my life, there are so many questions I've never asked before.

How did Peter Pan meet me before I can remember? How did the Cheshire Cat or any of Wonderland's inhabitants know about me on the island? How come I'm the only one who saw the coachman on the Isle of the Lost? Why were there little holes big enough for Flounder and Sebastian to fit through in the stone wall surrounding Prydain's coast? Why was I able to pull the sword from the stone? And most important of all, why does this sorcerer before me seem so vital, so imperative to my existence? I don't understand it at all. Why do I feel like he knows everything and I know nothing? Why do I feel all weird whenever I look at him? Who is he? Just who is this man? I don't get it….. "Sykes must have done something to piss him off because he disappeared not too long after. Vanished without a trace on the Isle of the Lost. Him and some other guy he was working with." Who is he?

"Mal? Mal, wake up. We're here." My eyes slowly opened to a familiar voice. I blinked up at Zephyr; he was grinning back down at me. "W-Where am I?" I asked groggily. The last thing I remember, my mind was in that sorcerer's basement…. "We're here, niece. We're at the Horned King's castle."