*Trigger Warning- Starting to verge into abusive themes, accidental injuries.*

Disaster upon disaster, that's what the last week had been—the first few days after the attack on Zamballa Cedric had scarcely left the still weak Phobos' side till the Prince could no longer stand his constant, suffocating presence anymore and insisted he returned to his duties. Then Phobos finally learned what had happened the night they'd returned and what this 'Veil' meant for Meridian, and Cedric then had to deal with the subsequent panic of both the court and the peasants once they'd also learned of the Veil. Disheartened, Phobos had retreated to his chambers and scarcely left, and the Court ran wild with speculation over what had occurred on Zamballa and implications of the veil and where that left them standing. Meanwhile, a single-minded sense of determination had filled Cedric since that day. He'd been nearly consumed in a desperate hunt for the means to absorb the Heart from the Prince's sister. He'd even forgone sleeping, save the few times Phobos had invited him to share his bed since that day. But every other moment had been spent methodically tearing apart the castle as he knew the secret to absorb the Heart lay hidden somewhere in its depths, and he was determined to find it for his Prince.

Their humiliation and thrashing at Zamballa combined with the interference of Candracar and their veil had greatly shaken Phobos' previous confidence, and it pained Cedric to see him so miserable after their few weeks of relative bliss. Moreover, he knew the Prince would never be truly secure in his reign without the Heart. After Zamballa, his Court had a new understanding of the Prince's limitations. The Veil had cut them off from other worlds, and everyone knew who to blame for that fact. Whispers of discontent were growing ever louder, and the scavengers were now waiting in the wings, hungry for their chance to use that knowledge to their advantage. The ground under them grew ever more unstable. He'd heard rumors some members of the Court were looking for ways to seize the Heart for themselves. Phobos' nontraditional ascent to the throne had opened the floodgates for others looking to do the same. And without an absolute power on the throne, there was no way to control the situation. Phobos was mighty and terrifying and a far more accomplished sorcerer than anyone else in the castle but was still just one man. And one man could never hope to control Meridian without the Heart. They and their enemies were on even footing. Those seeking power could rouse armies to match theirs, other nobles could be bribed with promises of power, and the peasants were happy to listen to anyone who promised them a better life. Luckily, the only thing that had prevented a full-on rebellion was the Court's lack of any sort of cohesion or cooperation amongst themselves. Everyone was out for themselves and themselves alone.

But not Cedric. Cedric only had only one goal. To deliver the Heart, or rather the means to obtain it, to his Prince. The only man to ever respect him, to deem him worthy of anything, to see in him anything other than a snake in need of its head cut off or crushed under a heel. His Prince, who he knew, despite everything, loved him as well as he could in his broken, standoffish manner. And not simply because his human form was pleasing to him, or because his true form served him well, though certainly, those things had helped, but because they understood one another in ways no one else ever could. They had found their worth in each other, in a world that despised them. He would not let him fall to ruin. He had to find it.

The matter was a vastly complicated one, though. The ritual Cedric was looking for had been used by the second-born Princess Eris, roughly three hundred years ago, who had performed the spell on her wayward sister to usurp the power of the Heart from her. In doing so, she ended a year-long reign of terror for Meridian by the true wielder of that power, Queen Persephone. She had somehow transferred the Heart to her bloodline, cutting off her niece from inheriting the Heart after her death and instead passed it to Eris' daughter. Despite how many lives it had saved, this spell was dangerous knowledge for the royal family. The common use of this spell would have led to massive infighting and death, potentially ending the Escanor line by their own power-hungry members. So the charm or whatever it had been was destroyed after Queen Eris' death, and no one had dared to speak of it in anything but a hushed whisper since. But surely, some record of it must be somewhere, if only to prevent that same situation from arising again. And to that end, Cedric had started taking apart the castle in search of it.

On his first day of searching, he managed to peel Phobos out of his study, and they had torn apart the Queen's chamber to no avail in search of it or clues to its actual location. They found only a few rather explicit love letters to and from the Queen's various paramours that had made Phobos's cheeks redden and his nose wrinkle in discomfort when Cedric had read them aloud for their amusement. The Queen was apparently something of a romantic under that taciturn shell. Though that had provided a brief respite from his search, eventually, he refocused his efforts.

The library seemed the next obvious answer, though perhaps too obvious. But, he could not rule it out and thus had combed through the massive room relentlessly. It would have taken years to search every shelf and read every book upon them, so he systematically refined his search. He'd worked in the library often during his youth, and he noticed that specific, out-of-the-way bookcases were marked with tiny, golden cravings of the Royal Crest. Those particular bookshelves were always located against a wall. They could not be removed from them, no matter how hard he tried, but he could taste musty, stale creeping out from behind them, leading him to believe there were secret passages or nooks behind them. Even as a youth, he'd been desperately curious to see what was behind them, and now that childish urge had a new, higher purpose.

Luckily, he'd been gifted with a unique gift, perfect for such a task. 'The Seal of Weira.' The item should have borne her daughter's name after her death, as royal tradition stated. But it was not her unnamed female heir who had taken her throne, but her son, who had instead renamed it for himself, and in turn gave it not to his Consort, but to him. Cedric relished having been given such a meaningful gift from his Prince, and he loved it even more, knowing that Queen Weira would have hated him even touching such a precious and beloved Escanor heirloom. And now here he was, using it to peel away all those Escanor secrets so the son she'd cast aside could take the Heart of Meridian for his own. Life did have a sense of humor, after all.

When he held his Seal up to the royal crests, they glowed faintly, and the bookcases slid immediately to the side without fail. Behind the shelves were small separate studies filled with yet more books. Once he'd started flipping through them, he understood why they'd been hidden from the general public. The books were often gruesome in nature, ranging from forbidden occult magic to historical documents and accounts that directly contradicted the history that could be found in the unrestricted part of the library and the oral tradition of humans. Unsurprising to the shifter, who'd experienced the truth firsthand, but indeed an exciting and good sign for his search.

The magic was intriguing, though so far had not been related to his pursuit of the Heart. Nonetheless, as he went through them, he took out books he thought might hold an interest to Phobos for him to pursue at his leisure. One such book was of a particular interest; it was a rather specific type of genealogy that exclusively mentioned those who shared the Prince's peculiar leeching power. The trait usually appeared in female Escanors, including Princess Eris. He was uncertain whether this was relevant, as the text made no mention of her involvement with the Heart, but it seemed a promising lead. This power was something of royal secret due to the dubious nature of the sorcery itself and how those gifted with it had often used the powers. He, himself, had grown up on stories of invading Escanors with magic that vaguely reminded him of Phobos', but he knew better than to implicitly trust the old, biased tales completely, even if they came from his own people. Still, he hoped the book would merely be an academic curiosity for the Prince once he had the might of the Heart rather than a guide to attempt to expand his limited power.

The histories held the most interest for himself, however, and had sidelined his original search somewhat. He'd learned an extensive amount of lore during his childhood from his family and village elders, and he found it equally fascinating now as he did then. Seeing the other half of all he learned was incredibly engaging, though often rather unpleasant. It wasn't necessarily the parts that contradicted what he already knew that bothered him, but rather what corroborated it. His relationship with Phobos had always been slightly soured for him with the knowledge of what their ancestors (distant and close) had done to each other, and it was all recorded here in great detail. He'd found hunting records, descriptions and even bits of his people's colorful skins that noble hunters had brought back to the castle to hang in the trophy room, city and village extermination proclamations, spells to force them into their human forms, and other equally distasteful topics. Of course, what his own people had done was not much better, from consuming humans to kidnapping them for their amusement. The Queen's own mother had been a victim of such violence, as she had apparently taken quite a liking to hunting mighty beasts which had led her into an ambush and subsequently gruesome death, which made the Queen's intense hatred of him slightly more understandable, in hindsight. Though, he was quickly reminded of who had started the violence in the first place.

He'd been up all night and was trying to refocus himself before looking through yet another pile of books and notes from Eris' time. Finally deciding he was overdue for this week's meal, he'd sat idly thumbing through some of Weira's more controversial royal decrees to keep him entertained while he picked through bits of his breakfast. He'd read about ten mind-numbingly dull and tedious zoning laws that had involved an orphanage before an official-looking file caught his eye.

It was a decree of extermination for a small, newly located village of serpentine shapeshifters. His village.

A scribe had written the order in a callous, official tone that made it sound like they were merely discussing pest control. Though Cedric supposed in the Queen's mind, she was. There was also a description of the battle that he couldn't bring himself to read, a tally of the soldiers and nobles they had lost, and among the papers had been a list of the spoils taken from the village. Every fiber in his being begged him not to, but his overwhelming morbid curiosity had made him read it nonetheless. If nothing else, he justified the action to himself by thinking he might recover what had been stolen from his people.

"Various artifacts of gold and silver, three recovered Escanor heirlooms, two chests of assorted loose gemstones, one crate of recovered tomes. Shifters took captive, total three; one adult, and two children."

He couldn't take his eyes off the page. It was… bizarre to see one's self listed as little more than inventory for assessment. Throughout the years, he'd removed himself from and compartmentalized that part of his life so much it scarcely seemed that it had happened at times but to be reminded of it again and so...methodically, so uncaringly. They hadn't even been people to them, just trophies they'd brought back from an unfair fight. A wave of memories overtook him; even the pleasant ones were rendered painful with the knowledge of what had come after. They'd taken even that from him. His transformation had come unbidden as he laid waste to the record room. He shattered bookcases, ripped deep gouges into the walls till the room was unrecognizable, and he was exhausted from his outburst. After, he'd retreated to his chambers, too crazed and dismayed even to seek out his usual comfort of Phobos' company.

He'd stayed there, hidden amongst his coils for nearly two days, his claws rendering his bedding to shreds under him, desperately trying to rebury all that pain and anger that he'd so carefully suppressed for years. He was prone to fits of over-emotionalness, it was true. The slightest inconvenience had the potential to send him into childish fits of temper, but they were just tiny bits of his true nature slipping out from under the mask. But when the mask fully came off? Wrath was the only description he could give to it, and even that seemed inadequate. It was rage hotter than any fire, overwhelming and uncontrollable. All he could think of was sinking his claws and fangs into someone, anyone, and ripping and tearing till there was nothing left. All that flowed through his mind was suffering and grief and the devastating desire to inflict that same agony on others. During those moments, he could understand why the humans thought them all senseless, murderous monsters.

It wasn't until Prince Phobos had finally come looking for him during the evening of the second day that he regained some semblance of his usual self. He feigned an illness to brush off the Prince's concern over his unexplained and unannounced disappearance. Cedric had always been reluctant to share all the details of his past with Phobos, not because he thought him uncaring or unworthy of knowing, but because his family had been directly responsible for his suffering. It seemed an unnecessary burden for his love to bear the full extent of that suffering when he'd never once displayed any of the biases of his family or other humans. The little bit he knew was more than enough, in his opinion.

Still, he didn't dare to uncoil himself or indulge in Phobos' company and had asked the Prince to leave him be for a while longer instead. Phobos looked at him with narrowed, calculating eyes after he'd made the request but surprisingly didn't push the subject. Whether he could sense the troubles still lurking in his mind or simply believed his claims of sickness, he eventually left Cedric alone once more. He rarely rejected Phobos so, but he knew himself to be too unstable for him at the moment. He'd never lost complete control around the Prince before, but he didn't dare risk it either. Those feelings, those memories had to be pushed aside and suppressed once more, for Phobos' sake. The prince needed him present in the now, focused and sane. The time for mourning or vengeance or even longing was over. The last good bit of his life left, and all that mattered was Phobos.

His Prince. Cedric was self-aware enough to know how...unhealthy his dependence on the Prince had become throughout the years, but he simply didn't care. Phobos was all he had left in the world; why shouldn't he cling to him? The Prince had given him things he'd never even dreamed of; how could he not repay that with absolute devotion? His ghosts had no more need of him, nor he of them. The past was the past, unchanging and cruel, and his future depended on Phobos. That much he knew.

Still, it was some time before he worked up the will to return to the hidden chambers of the library. He took this time to return to his more mundane duties, but still, his every free thought was preoccupied with finding that spell. Finally deciding that the bookshelf passages were too noticeable to contain such a devastating secret as what he was looking for, he turned his search to look for better-concealed chambers. He'd been on his fourth bleary-eyed search of the perimeter of the vast labyrinth-like room when his fingers brushed across the slightest indentation. Curious, he backtracked and ran his fingers over the subtle design; it was yet another royal crest, but tiny and barely noticeable and with no golden inlay to catch one's eye. It was the first one he'd encountered that wasn't hidden on a bookcase. Instead, the tiny etching was carved into the seam of the stone wall. This one wasn't supposed to be easily found like the others; most likely, it hadn't been meant to be found at all. Unless one was as obsessive as Cedric, they would have never noticed it. Queen's must have passed the chamber's location down each new generation. Had he been in his true form, his tail tip would be twitching in excitement. Finally, he was getting somewhere.

Carefully, he pulled the golden Seal from around his neck and held it against its tiny counterpart on the wall. The Seal pulsed and then glowed warmly in his hand, and as it did, so did the carving in the stone. Cedric heard a sound reminiscent of gears and locks engaging behind the rock, and then part of the wall popped loose from the stone and swung open like a door. Cautiously, even though he'd uncovered no traps thus far during his search, Cedric poked his head around the door frame. His heart was pounding with excitement, even as a slight prick of dread filled him. If the ritual spell wasn't hidden somewhere in this chamber, he would officially be out of ideas for its location. He didn't know if he could stomach another failure so close to the one in Zamballa.

Two torches flickered to life as he entered the room, a small, circular cavern carved into the solid rock of the castle foundation. It contained only a single book stand with a single book on it. Cedric rolled his eyes. Escanor's certainly enjoyed their theatre, but this was another excellent sign nonetheless! There was something exceptional about this book. Even if Cedric hadn't found what he was seeking, he'd indeed found something. They could use any sort of power boost or ancient knowledge right now.

Carefully, he made his way towards the book. His skin crawled as he did; his body's desire to shift into his true form was beginning to border on overwhelming. Cedric did not do so. Though it was magnificently beautiful with a dark green spine and an inlay of solid gold with intricate etchings, this book was...off. The energy surrounding it was confused and chaotic like many people had poured their life force into it. Still, Cedric couldn't take his eyes off it, absolutely enthralled with its beauty. His baser instincts wanted nothing more than to clutch the book to his chest and coil around it playfully as he would have as a child. Instead, almost reverently, the shifter reached out and took the book off its stand, half expecting a rush of magic to emanate from the book when he did so. He'd been around Escanor's enough to anticipate their flair for theatrics, but thankfully no such unnecessary drama occurred when he removed it.

He turned the book over his hands, carefully examining it. It had a gold binding on the outside but had no visible lock with which to open it. Shrugging and silently apologizing to the book for the coming desecration, Cedric grabbed both covers and attempted to pry the book open, certain it would yield easily to his strength. Gold was a very pliable metal after all, and he was far more robust than the delicate Lord he appeared to be.

Nothing.

He bared his teeth in frustration, and allowed some of his magical energy to flow into his human form, and tried again, but with similar results. He hissed and huffed in annoyance. Obviously, the lock was magical in nature. He was on the verge of a fit and thinking of tossing the book against the wall when the Seal pulsed hotly against his chest as if reprimanding him for his incompetence. Fighting back embarrassment at being chastised by an object, he set the book back on its stand, and then Cedric pulled out his most prized possession once more and held it carefully over the book. He tensed up in alarm as the book suddenly sprang open, its pages magically rapidly flipping faster than they could ever be turned manually. When the book had opened itself to its exact middle, it stopped and laid itself open.

Cedric wanted to gouge his eyes out. The pages, however magical, were utterly blank! He racked his mind to think of how he could make the words appear. None came to mind that he was capable of. He would have to take the book to Phobos as it was to see if the Prince could uncover its secrets. Cedric kicked the bookstand over in defeat, bitter being thwarted when he seemed so close to victory.

"Stupid fucking thing-"

Suddenly, a bright light flashed from the fallen book, and an image appeared not but a few inches in front of his face. The red hair, pale skin, and jade green eyes were instantly recognizable, and panic and fear overtook any critical thoughts. He instinctively threw himself back onto the floor in a frantic terror. The last time Cedric had seen the ill-fated Queen Weira, he'd been chained to a wall in the dungeon, as the Queen coldly explained how she planned to have him tortured, mutilated, and executed for 'defiling' a member of the Royal Household. He always wondered what her thoughts would have been if she'd known her son had harassed and begged him for nearly a month for that 'defilement.' Somehow, he suspected it would have made the situation worse if that was even possible.

Despite his mind-numbing panic, he quickly realized that this was, in fact, not a vengeful ghost or spirit but some sort of astral projection from some time ago. The Queen did not have the wrinkles around her mouth and corners of her eyes and the poorly concealed bags under her eyes that he'd always known her to have. She was vibrant and exceedingly beautiful and young, even younger than he currently was, perhaps around sixteen years of age or so. Cedric cocked his head curiously at the projection, for he'd never seen the Queen quite so close before. He'd been careful to maintain at least a room's distance between them on the few times he encountered her before their last meeting, and during that brief exchange, he'd been crying and was far too terrified to gaze upon her. Cedric observed the same soft slopes of her face that Phobos' had inherited, the identical shape and color of their eyes, and the matching delicate, sharply pointed chins. He never realized how alike they looked. Even her expression reminded him of her son, solemn and distant. Then the image shimmered, and the Queen spoke.

"Today is the day of my coronation as Queen of Meridian. I am...unsure of how to feel about this. Mother is but two years gone, but the Council is fearful of Aunt Hestia sitting for too long in regency. Though I know, she would never dishonor my mother's memory with infighting over a crown she has never wanted. I train every day with the power of the Heart, but I still feel...unworthy. Mother was fearsome in her prime, but I am not. Magic eludes me in ways the rest of my heritage does not. But it matters not, I am now of age to take the throne, and there is no reason beyond my hesitation that prevents me from doing so. My world needs me, and I can not fail it. Mother would think me a coward for being so afraid of what I have always known was my destiny, but I did not think it would come so soon. I do not think I have truly even processed my mother's horrific loss yet. Courtly life has little room for such vulnerable emotions after all."

The young Queen stopped for a moment and signed before continuing glumly.

"Because of that, Aunt Hestia gave me this book, 'The Book of Secrets' as an early gift for my Coronation, to sort through my feelings in private. It has belonged to every Queen all the way back to Her Magnificence, Queen Leryn. I...do not know if it will help, but it is better than nothing, I suppose. There is no one else who I can trust with my thoughts besides myself, after all."

That was all Cedric needed to hear. He knew nothing about the history of this "Book of Secrets," but that was hardly surprising. Cedric's extensive education covered most of Meridian's lore, but his knowledge of the royal family was limited. Indeed, the Escanor's were almost as secretive as his people. But, hopefully, as a member of that secretive family, Phobos would know more. Would it be possible to hear other Queens? And if they could, would Queen Eris have even discussed the ritual she used to usurp her sister? He had no idea, but it was the closest he'd come so far. He snapped the book shut; Weira's image disappearing as he did.

The book clutched tightly to his chest; he made his way as quickly through the castle as his dignity allowed. Nobles didn't run, after all. The moon was high in the sky, and the time was well past midnight, but it was likely that Phobos was still awake, as his Prince was borderline nocturnal in his mannerisms. As he came to the base of Phobos' tower, he came across two of his guards, leaning against the wall as they dozed off, but they jumped to attention at the sound of his footsteps. He gave them a pointed glare as he started his ascent, and they saluted him nervously in return, but he was too excited with his discovery to stop and chastise them properly. Perhaps in the morning, if he remembered.

Cedric huffed as he climbed, the ever upward winding of the staircase nauseating him slightly as he did. He disliked stairs, on principle. Stairs were made for legs, and while he was quite capable of walking steadily now, the young shifter had fallen down quite a staircases when he'd first been brought to the castle. He'd made sure his own residence was on the ground level, but Phobos preferred to lurk up in his spire. Perhaps he felt more secure so far away from the rest of the castle. Or maybe he simply enjoyed looking down on everyone else.

Having made his way to the top, he was greeted by the great stone doors that guarded the entrance to the atrium of Phobos' chambers. He bid them open, and as soon as he spoke, the doors swung open, allowing him to enter into the main hall. They had deemed it pertinent that Cedric could open the Prince's chambers on his own accord both for convenience sake and in case of emergencies should Phobos ever need him while incapacitated.

Cedric briskly made his way inside, the doors shutting behind him without being touched. The shifter shivered at the rush of cold air that greeted him. He might have spent a fair amount of his time in Phobos' chambers, but they had never been to his taste. All the rooms the Prince resided in were cold and dark and rather bleak, save for the bedchamber where Phobos usually kept a fire going, and the bed itself was littered with various blankets for both their comfort. Apparently, brushing up against Cedric's frigid skin in the middle of the night was not a...pleasant sensation.

Rather than calling for his Prince and risking the off chance of waking him, he flicked out his forked tongue, searching for the heady scent of roses and the tickle on the tongue of residual lingering magic that permeated the air wherever Phobos was. It was an easy enough smell to catch among the unpleasant musty odors of the ancient castle. He followed the floral scent into Phobos' massive study, where the Prince sat at his desk, surrounded by half-finished letters, seemingly lost in thought. That was hardly unusual; however, Phobos always had trouble focusing on matters he found to be mundane. Cedric respectfully bowed as he approached him, though Phobos paid him no mind as he did, before carefully placing the book on the desk in front of him. For a tense moment, nothing happened. Then, the Prince sat back, looking back and forth between the book and Cedric in stunned confusion, before a smile, a real one, graced his face. He reached out and stroked the golden cover of the book softly, and his eyes gleamed greedily.

"Well, well, well! What have you brought me, my pet?"

Cedric resisted the urge to wriggle in an indecorous manner at the endearment. Phobos only called him that when he was exceptionally pleased with him, even though Cedric had found the name slightly degrading when he first started referring to him that way. He was hardly anyone's pet, after all.

"I do believe this is the ancient 'Book of Secrets.' So it is real. I thought it a myth. Do you know what you have found?" he asked him, looking up at him incredulously.

Cedric pulled out his Seal to offer it to Phobos as an answer, but the Prince pushed it aside. Instead, the Prince pulled at the not-lock, and the book opened as easily as it had under the power of the Seal.

"The Seal can open anything, as you know, but the book is meant to be opened by the one who sits on the throne of Leryn," he explained. "After all, they say it belonged to her, all those years ago."

The book glowed just as it had before, and the same projection of Queen Weira appeared before them. Phobos was not nearly as startled as Cedric had been at the image, but his lips still curled up hatefully upon gazing at his mother. They listened to her for a time, but it was apparent Phobos had little interest in hearing her words.

"Can you listen to any of the former Queens, or just the books' last owner?" Cedric asked.

Phobos stroked his goatee thoughtfully as he contemplated Cedric's question.

"Surely there is a way to do just that, but I am unsure of how. There is very little written about this artifact, but what little is written states that the book absorbs all the knowledge of its owners. It was meant to pass down Royal knowledge from Queen to Queen that was too dangerous to write down or pass along the oral tradition. But, it seems it can also be used as a...diary of sorts? At least, that is what it appears my mother used for. Regardless, if Eris' ritual was ever recorded at all, it will be here."

Cedric cocked his head inquisitively at the book. "If it belongs to you now, can't you simply order it to do as you will?"

Phobos held his hand out over the book, his brows furrowed, seemingly giving a mental command to the object. The book instantly reacted to its new master's wishes, bathing the dark room in a harsh, golden light as it started flipping its pages again. A new image appeared before them. Cedric thought it was Queen Eris, but she did not as closely resemble her official portrait as he would have expected. The painting in the Hall of the Queens featured a resplendent woman with perfect white skin like she'd been cut from marble and thick, luscious blonde hair and the jade green eyes that he'd noticed many Escanor's possessed.

This woman was far less impressive, her dull hair in a simple, fizzy braid and a thin, gaunt face marred with red blotches and freckles, and her eyes were more akin to yellow than those of her descendants. Cedric thought she looked very...tired. A world-weary sort of exhaustion that a simple night's sleep would not solve. He knew the feeling well.

The Queen hadn't started speaking yet, but she was moving. She held up one astral hand to her face, cupping one side of it dejectedly. She seemed to be fighting off tears. She took a deep, steadying breath but still did not speak. Phobos and Cedric traded curious, impatient looks as they waited. Had they found the secret at last?

"Persephone is...gone."

Eris's brittle voice broke off, but she did not sob. She removed her hand from her face and let it fall despondently against what must have been her desk, and then she slumped into her chair in a very un-royal manner.

"Persephone was killed in the aftermath of the battle. I do not wish to speak of it. Let the historians speak of it if they must, but I will not. I only record this message for future generations, so they can also stop...tyrants of the Escanor line, should one arise again. My sister turned her great powers on our people, and so I was forced to bring her reign to an end. I implored Candracar for assistance, but they told me as long as Queen Persephone remained confined to Meridian, they had no right to interfere with her. But our people were dying, nobles and peasants alike. Persephone...was insane. It seemed nothing brought her any joy save wanton murder and destruction, and no matter how many times I begged her to stop this madness, she refused. I was left with no choice but to try to stop her by force. But, Persephone was Queen and thus the Heart of Meridian, and my powers had never held a candle to hers even before she'd taken up that mantle. I stood no chance of beating her now, even with all Meridian behind me. But I would not resign my world to the fate Persephone intended for it. I contacted every ancient spirit that still lingers on this planet, from the friendliest Gahlot to the most guile of the shifters, and begged them for assistance. Most were frightened off or repulsed by presence, but a few heeded my call. They whispered secrets and lies my family has been hiding for centuries. They tormented me for many days with these thoughts, but finally, they told me what I truly needed to know.

The most absolute rule of magic is that the power of a Heart cannot be taken by force, which is...technically true. However, Meridian is a unique case. You see, the Heart belongs to Escanor bloodline by right, but it was not always ours. We won it by conquest and guile, but we do not possess it as entirely as we think we do. The Heart yearns to be free of us somewhere deep within its consciousness, just as the land does. We may own this planet, but we are not part of it, we are not born of it, and the Heart knows this. This fact makes our hold on the Heart weaker than a true-blooded bearer, not weak enough that one outside our line can take it without permission, but weak enough that any full-blooded descendant of Leryn can take the Heart from another.

The Heart knows only that it belongs to the Escanors; it cares little for which particular one. Such fidelity and precision are reserved for Hearts that are still connected with the bloodlines of those they first bonded to. The Heart seeks to end our bloodline with strife and murder and return to those it truly belongs to, even as we use it, cast light and love out unto its world. You see why this knowledge is so dangerous and why I choose to only share it with future Queens who already are in possession of their Heart. To share it with every member of our family would lead to our ruin, and so I must risk passing the information this way. The power of the Heart can be taken from any fully manifested wielder, by her maternal siblings or even her children, should the need to do so arise-"

Queen Eris continued on, but Phobos had pulled away. His hands clutched at the papers on his desk, sparks caught on the letters, and they caught aflame. His face empty of any expression, eyes wide, making him look far more crazed than if he'd been openly furious.

Cedric felt his lips quiver. He was not afraid of Phobos, but he was fearful of the answer to the question he was about to ask.

"When...do Hearts usually fully manifest their magic?"

"Thirteen years…" Phobos stated blankly. "Thirteen years."

The room fell silent save for the crackling of the paper burning under Phobos' fingers.

Thirteen years?!

How could they possibly hope to maintain control over Meridian as they were with no Heart for thirteen years?! It would be virtually impossible. They would be forced to bend over backward to meet every request, grant every favor, lest the Court threaten them with talk of Rebellion over every perceived insult. Or worse, be forced to hold off an actual rebellion for many years, as the populace grew ever more discontented with the reign of such a nontraditional monarch as Phobos, all the while, their true ruler would be waiting in the wings, which would undoubtedly become an issue in and of itself. Every being with any sense and access to her would be filling the girl's head with drivel to take her rightful place in the throne with them at her side. And if such a thing occurred, then over a decade of waiting would be ruined instantly.

And most importantly, his Prince would never be viewed by his populace or nobles or even himself as legitimate without that Heart. Forever would he be considered to be an overreaching man who had no place sitting where he sat. Without the Heart, he was nothing.

"We...we can wait. We-" Cedric trailed off, unsure of what to say. There was nothing he could say to lessen a pain such as this.

Phobos had already waited twenty-four years to claim his birthright. This was supposed to have been the moment of his ultimate triumph, and instead, it had been a soul-crushing defeat. Their position had gone from precarious to exceedingly dangerous. They couldn't even look to other worlds for potential allies because of the veil around Meridian. He and Phobos were suddenly standing alone on the edge of a rapidly crumbling precipice, and Cedric was out of ideas on how to pull them up.

The fires on Phobos' desk flickered out of existence as the last of his letters turned to ash. Cedric tensed as he waited for an explosion or a hurricane or lighting or some other form of disaster to sprung forth from Phobos. Phobos' did not lose his temper as quickly as Cedric did, but the results were usually apocalyptic in nature when he did. But the Prince simply sat at his desk, unmoving. Somehow, that unnerved Cedric more than a tantrum. Then, Phobos pushed away from his desk without warning, the air suddenly suffocating in its thickness as dark magic twisted and fouled the air. The Prince didn't spare him a glance as he marched out of his chambers, his black robes billowing ominously behind him. On any other occasion, Cedric would have left him to his fury and despair and gone to him later, when he'd fought down the worst of his wrath, but something in his manner made his skin prickle. He followed after the other man.

Cedric kept a fair distance behind his Prince, stalking him warily through the halls of the castle. The shifter was unsure of where he was headed, as he was not following any of the usual routes to his typical sanctuaries. The environment around them became more and more opulent the further in they went, and the shifter hazarded a guess they were going deeper into the royal wing of the castle. Peeking his head out from behind a corner, he watched as Phobos began to ascend a steep staircase to what he assumed was another bedchamber. Cedric leaned against the wall as he racked his mind attempting to remember what or who was even up there. He tasted the air again, hoping to gain more information that way. The petrichor-like taste currently rolling off Phobos overwhelmed almost everything else, but he caught the faintest waft of fresh, soft linens and the too-sweet-sour milk smell that human babies always smelt of. Cedric froze as realization dawned on him.

There was only one reason for Phobos to be going up to see his sister amid such a black rage.

Ignoring the clenching of his stomach, his steps quicked after his Prince till he was practically sprinting up the twisting staircase. He threw open the great door, hoping he wasn't too late to avert the disaster he knew Phobos was planning to cause.

Phobos was standing menacingly over the crib, flickers of white-hot magic sparking from his fist. The infant was resting peacefully in her crib, unaware of what was about to befall her.

"Phobos, wait!"

Cedric grabbed the Prince's hand, desperate to stop him from making a critical error in his jealous wrath. The magic he was summoning felt hot against his cold skin, but he did not let go, even as Phobos struggled against him. The infant startled at their commotion, jerking herself awake from her slumber. Her thin, pitiful cries filled the chamber when she realized neither was her nanny.

"Please! You need her alive! If you kill her now, the power will be lost to you forever!" Cedric begged him, trying to draw Phobos into his arms where he could control him easier. But Phobos snarled and violently pulled away from the embrace, Cedric just barely managing to keep his grasp on the other man's hand.

"I don't care! Why should this worthless child be blessed with MY birthright?! Why should I allow her to live?!" Phobos tried to wretch himself free one final time but was going nowhere against Cedric's strength. Phobos growled in fury and frustration, and then the air snapped as if a whip had cracked through it, and the foul taste of sulfur permeated the room. The baby's cries changed from calls for her caregiver to intense screams of fear.

At first, Cedric was more concerned about his eyes, as the flash had nearly blinded him. Then pain shot up from his fingers and into his hands. Red hot pain, like he'd submerged his hands in boiling water or held them in a raging fire. He fell onto his knees, instinctively curling in on himself, and lurched himself back frantically from the source of his torment till he'd tactically wedged himself into a dark corner of the room. His body shook violently as he clenched each badly discolored, blackened, and blistered hand against the other, fighting back tears of distress as he cowered on the floor. He'd suffered numerous injuries during his life, even a few life-threatening ones, but he'd never been so badly burned before. It was a unique sort of torment to process.

"Cedric…"

The voice sounded far away and unfamiliar due to the throbbing in his head. Cedric refused to meet Phobos' gaze, but he heard the footsteps, hesitant and unsure, as Phobos dared to try to step closer. Squaring up his body as he would have in his true form, he bared his elongating fangs and hissed at the Prince, uncaring of rank or decorum in his suffering. Phobos stepped back.

"I...I didn't. You wouldn't let go. You…"

The Prince's voice was brittle and broken and shaky, yet still held a sharp and accusatory tone. Cedric withdrew from him and pressed his head into the corner, trying to suppress his racking sobs and broken moans. Despite his own whimpers and the deafening shrieks of the terrified infant, the room seemed almost quiet to him. Neither he nor Phobos moved for a few minutes as they both attempted to process what had just occurred.

Finally, Phobos ignored his earlier warnings and moved to help him back to his feet, gently lifting him by his midsection. By now, Cedric had succumbed to the pain and let him do as he pleased, dangling listlessly from Phobos' grasp in wordless agony. The magic may have only physically affected his hands, but the sensation was starting to creep up into his arms now as well. They silently stumbled along as Phobos dragged him out of the room and down the staircase before the Prince settled them both down at the base of the stairs, well away from the screams of his sister and the nauseating odor of freshly burnt flesh.

A dull sense of ironic and dark humor filled Cedric as Phobos desperately clutched his limp body against his own tightly. Cedric had held the Prince like this on a few, rare occasions but never once had Phobos embraced him like this before. A distant onlooker probably would have found the scene vaguely romantic, until they ventured closer anyway.

One of Phobos' hands reached out to examine Cedric's burnt ones. It was shaking.

Cedric finally dared to look at Phobos. The shifter's stomach rolled. His face was tense and devoid of any color, his right eye twitching sporadically as he stared in ill-concealed horror at what he'd done. Cedric had never seen him look so stricken. His shoulders clenched and tightened, and he vigorously knocked his head into Phobos' chest, the urge to fix suddenly more significant than the amount of pain he was enduring.

"It's nothing," he told him weakly. "Nothing. It...it will be healed by tomorrow like it never even happened."

Phobos didn't say anything.

Cedric lost himself in a stream of reassuring babbling, unsure of what he was even saying. Liquid fire was steadily coursing its way up through the veins in his arms, and he was involuntarily and pitifully shaking against Phobos like he'd been caught out in a snowstorm, but none of that mattered anymore.

He shouldn't have fought with him, though he could hardly have let him kill his sister before he'd taken her powers, but...there had to have been a better way than physically trying to restrain him. Cedric should have known that such a thing would happen. The Prince had practically been dripping wild, overemotional magic. How could he have been so foolish? This whole disaster had been his own fault. Phobos had just been… incredibly overwhelmed, and he'd made it worse. And now he here he was, devasted over a mere accident, something that wasn't even his fault.

Cedric tucked his head under Phobos', desperately trying to connect with the other man, to get him to speak or move or anything really.

"Phobos?" he said as he looked up to his lover meekly.

Phobos stiffened, and then without so much as a glance at Cedric, stood up and left the shifter at the base of the stairs. Cedric watched him go, too dumbfounded by his sudden departure to even call after him. Was...he upset with him? Cedric would have wrung his hands together nervously, but they were too stiff to perform that motion. A sudden chill crept up his spine as he eyed the cavernous hallways. His face was still wet with tears, and his small human body was still trembling feebly in shock. He would be damned if someone saw him in such a state. He quickly cocooned himself with the familiar magic of his transformation. Skin, muscles, and bones melted away and elongated themselves in an extravagant metamorphosis that was neither painful nor particularly pleasant to endure. More secure in himself, though in no less pain, Cedric hastily retreated to his chamber where he might recover in peace.

Only once the shifter was safely back in his quarters and curled into a tight, defensive ball on his bed did he start to realize the implications of what had occurred today. They couldn't continue on for the next thirteen years as they had for these first few months, willfully disregarding the traditions of the Escanor dynasty and expecting no consequences. There had no safety net to catch them anymore. Cedric tightened around himself even tighter in despair, ignoring his bodies' cry of pain from the motion.

The easiest solution to their problem would be to wait and make the necessary concessions needed to play the long game: appeasement and misdirection. But Cedric did not know where he would fit in such a scheme. Would Phobos' set him aside entirely and take a proper consort as the council wanted? Or take a consort and keep the shifter on the side to entertain him whenever he desired like he was nothing but a well-behaved pet? Would he play the good prince, a mere regent waiting for his all-powerful sister to come of age to replace him?

No, he wouldn't.

Somehow that frightened Cedric more. Phobos would not back down from the cliff they were on, not even if the entire world wanted to pull him off the side. There was not going to be any backing down from this fight. Phobos had come too close to getting everything he'd ever wanted to go back to the way things had been.

The pain from his burns was still unbearable, and for a moment, just a moment, Cedric wondered if it was worth it.

He found no answers that night.

The next day, just as he said, it was like nothing had happened. Cedric's hands were still randomly spotted with blisters where he'd been burned the worst and slightly off-colored in places, but the pain had lessened to a dull, ignorable throbbing. Shrinking back to his human form, he got himself prepared for the day just as he would any other morning. He'd not slept as his body healed and his mind fretted, but that was hardly unusual for him. He was not as reliant on nightly sleep as some other species were.

He picked at one of his blisters absent-mindedly as he sat on his bed. It hadn't really been that bad, after all, he told himself. Hardly worth the fuss he'd caused last night. Just...just an accident. He'd accidentally left bruises on Phobos during the rare occasions when he got overly playful in bed, and they never felt the need to mention that. However, Cedric did compulsively apologize for and fret over said marks. Or when Phobos had snapped at him over his plans for invasions of other worlds. It was just...hazards of what they were, nothing more. Phobos hadn't meant to hurt him. He loved him, after all.

A knock at his door startled him from his thoughts. He huffed in annoyance, wondering what disaster could possibly require his attention so early in the morning. However, it was not a messenger at the door but rather Prince Phobos. Cedric quickly straightened himself to receive him properly, though he was stunned to see Phobos in his chambers and up so early. Phobos found his bright, flowery tapestries that he covered every blank stone wall with and his random assortment of gaudy baubles and glassworks that he'd collected over the years, distasteful. So, it was rare for Phobos to venture down to see him, for any reason, and would instead summon Cedric to his own chambers when he had need of him.

"My Prince!" he sounded over-eager even to his own ear. He'd hadn't expected to see Phobos at all today, or even for the next few days, certain the other man would be keeping his distance after what had happened. He anxiously clasped his hands behind his back, so Phobos' eyes would not be drawn to the still healing burns. "Is something wrong, your Highness?"

Phobos silently sauntered his way into Cedric's chambers, leaving the shifter standing awkwardly in his doorway. A hundred scenarios played through his head, and not a single one pleasant in nature. Was he here to chastise him for what had happened last night? Or to tell him he was being cast aside for the sake of the greater good? Or…

Phobos idly spun one of his trinkets on its display, gold and gems sparkling in the rising sunlight. "I have been listening to the records in the Book of Secrets all night. There is a treasure trove of knowledge stored in its pages. I just came to...thank you properly for acquiring such a boon for me."

Cedric cocked his head at Phobos incredulously. While what he said may have been true, one could not forget the book had also foiled their plans for a quick, easy victory. And had directly lead to their incident. Was...he just ignoring all of that? It was not unlike Phobos to do such a thing, as the other man tended to brush aside any sort of vulnerability or over-emotionalness, but this was quite a thing just to pretend hadn't occurred. But, if the Prince did not wish to discuss what had transpired, Cedric would certainly not be the first person to bring it up. He would just as soon forget the accident as well.

Just an accident, he told himself again, wringing his hands still behind his back and promptly wincing when he accidentally popped a blister. Perhaps the Prince's approach to the situation was the right one after all. One could not change the past, and the future was unstable to allow for such division.

Cedric bowed deferentially to the Prince in response to his praise, but Phobos wasn't even looking at him. Closing the door behind him, Cedric joined Phobos in his room, suddenly feeling like an intruder in his own bedroom. Phobos tended to dominate whatever space he was in, and Cedric felt especially wary of his presence today after how volatile he'd been the night before. He tried to ignore his unease by telling himself he just didn't want to upset the Prince more than he already, as surely, the Prince was still greatly devastated by the news they received.

The Prince ventured closer to him, smirking in a playful manner that felt very out of place for a reason Cedric couldn't quite place. The Prince pressed his body against his own, took one of his hands, and set it at his waist, looking up at him with wide, wanton eyes. Usually, Cedric would never even hesitate to give him what he was asking for, as it was rare enough for Phobos to engage him first, and doubly so considering that it was apparent Phobos wanted Cedric to take him rather than the other way around. The Prince preferred Cedric to show interest first in these matters, so he didn't come off as overly passive or needy. Growing up in the court had left him obsessed with such superficial issues, even with those closest to him.

This time, however, Cedric faltered when Phobos put forth his advances. He could not place the emotion that stayed him. Confusion? Fear? Anger? The turmoil inside of him felt like all those things and none of them all at once. What was wrong with him? The Prince was practically offering himself up on a silver platter. Why couldn't he just push this aside as he'd done with everything else in his life? Why did it matter so much?

It was just an accident.

Phobos pulled back from Cedric, his eyes darting to the floor, before meeting Cedric's once more. There were soft and unsure, and…Cedric's heart burned from the unusual sight. That same ever-encompassing urge to make things right, even things far beyond his control and things that weren't his to fix, enveloped him. He grasped Phobos by his waist, and lifted him against his chest effortlessly, and deposited him softly on his bed. Both their fingers worked frantically to remove the other's clothing, the Prince clinging to him with a sense of wild desperation that he was greatly unused to and made his skin prickle with unease. But Cedric still pressed his mouth against Phobos' neck, kissing and licking him feverishly, and then reverently worked his way down his body. He watched Phobos gasp and squirm once his mouth reached its intended destination, but no heat nor arousal pooled in his own stomach from doing so. Only a cold emptiness filled him, despite the situation. He told himself his body was just too preoccupied with its healing process to devote precious blood to other places, though he'd never encountered this problem before.

Still, he refused to allow that to sour Phobos' enjoyment; however, discreetly stroking himself when Phobos' eyes were rolled back in his head so that he could complete the act without any additional awkwardness. Phobos did not seem to notice his initial reluctance, and honestly, by the time the Prince had wrapped his legs around him and cried out his name as he thrust into him, Cedric almost didn't either. But after, even when his head was overwhelmed by its habitual flood of oxytocin from the event, his stomach still rolled with unease. However, that didn't dissuade him from his usual fussing over Phobos. The Prince laid there dully, not even bothering with his typical show of trying to push him off as Cedric softly embraced him. Cedric nuzzled into his neck, then looked up at the Prince, and their eyes met. Phobos lips quivered, and for just a moment, Cedric thought he was going to speak, but then he broke the contact and rolled over silently.

Cedric held back a sigh, unsure of what he even wanted Phobos to say. He held on to the prince despondently, insecurities biting at him like flies. Everything seemed so uncertain now, this moment and everything that was to come after. They had no plan, no allies, no Heart. They only had each other...and…

What had happened the night before could not affect them going forward; the stakes were now too high. Cedric knew Phobos, knew he would never mean to hurt him, and that what had happened was just an accident born of misplaced rage. He watched it happen a hundred times, and it should not have been such a surprise to him to step in its path finally. They could not come so far and let it all fall to ruin over nothing. Cedric clutched Phobos tighter...even if he had to let go of him for a time to get there; he would. Phobos and his goals came first, and Cedric would always be there to fulfill them for him. No matter what.

This chapter is a bit of an infodump, I know. I really like the concept of a heart cannot be taken by force world-building presented in season 2, but unfortunately, it just does not Jive with what is shown in season 1. I mean, Phobos' whole plan is to steal Elyon's power against her will. So I desperately wanted to make a fix for that while still moving the story forward. I mean, there's got to be a loophole somewhere in there, right? Otherwise, you'd have to call the Guardians every time a heart went rogue. Considering the show's canon and that Candarcar does not seem to have its dedication to peaceful non-interference that it does in the comic, that is probably the whole point of having the 'Guardians of the infinite dimensions' but whatever.

This is mixing cartoon and comic canon a smidge, in that the Escanor's came from Earth long ago to help save Meridian from a threat and ending up colonizing the world. Now, since in the cartoon Earth has its own Heart (i.e., Lilian), the Heart of Meridian must have belonged to one of the native peoples before it was either given to or taken by the Escanors. So, while it's a stretch to say the Heart wouldn't have fully accepted the Escanors as its new owners, it was the explanation I chose to handwave away the events of 'The Final Battle.' I believe the actual reason is that the writer of season two liked the idea so much that he ran with it and just hoped everyone would accept this new bit of canon, if I remember correctly, from one of his interviews.

And yes, I know, I said this would update in threes, but then this chapter started to hedge over 10,000 words and took forever to write, and I decided I'd rather have regular updates than 3-part updates.

Thanks to everyone for taking the time to read this! -RoR