Chapter Four

The first day of freedom for the prince of Meridian was turning out to be the strangest day of his life. And as he was one that was interested in not only magic, but its darker occult side, that was saying something.

The shaking was lessening, showing the titan was miles away at that point.

Phobos rubbed his temples. "Must I?" he wondered, staring at the flame. "If one of us dies, does that end your games?"

The prince mulled over it. Even if he acts, what could be done? His powers were gone… but not his knowledge. The trial would not be unbeatable, right?

He could have taken that golem down. It was an elemental beast. They had enchanted hearts inscribed with runes. He had seen it when it formed. All he had to do was remove it from the base and it would have fallen apart. When the Keeper tripped it, the heart had dislodged itself and rolled away.

So now faced with a larger one, how could he face it?

He could let her die.

He should let her die.

It might free him. Wasn't the chance of freedom worth more than her life?

Why save her? What was his gain?

He couldn't deny she kept impressing him. Her easy take down of the golem was preformed so smoothly. Like she had practiced it. Like she was water flowing around its limbs, slipping and dancing through its grasp. Graceful and powerful. He had thought all her worth laid in her guardian form, yet her human one held value as well. Again, was that value worth a risk to him? Any risk? Why even break a nail over her?

"Ah," he hissed, running a hand through his hair. Image of her glaring at him, challenging him, strong in his mind's eye. "Very well." Phobos looked around and found a doorway. If it was always there, or if it just appeared, he did not know.

"She is becoming more trouble than she is worth," he mused, heading out the room.

The temple was nestled in the center of a thick forest. Tall, twisting trees scraping the clear blue sky. Crows cawed endlessly in the treetops, angry at the destruction the titan wrought. The trail it left was wide, trees pushed aside, roots pulled up. A murder of crows was at the base of one of the largest overturned trees, cawing and fighting as they pecked at something.

Phobos approached, stepping up on a mound of dirt and roots. He slid down, seeing an interesting gleam where the crows gathered. They flew away, taking a few gold scales as their prize. Bending down, he ran a hand over the cold, hard surface.

"I see," he mumbled before standing.

So he had what was needed to pass. To save her.

He looked at his hand, as it had been a long time since he called on his blood. This type of magic drew on the surrounding powers, so he did not need to fuel it, only a suitable host.

But this one?

Was it real? Not just an illusion of the forge?

If it was real, could he control it? One this massive?

He hesitated. "It has been a long time, I thought I would never need to risk myself like this again."

He reached down and grabbed a loose scale, edges sharp. Taking it, he cut the palm of his hand, blood oozing out on to the small section of gold visible below.

"Rise, oh noble beast, your slumber ends now," he chanted, bracing himself. "Rise, oh forgotten one, your new master calls."

The gold soaked up the blood, scales shifting, tail moving. Phobos climbed free of the hole and moved back, watching with apprehension. The ground vibrated, different from with the titan. Like the ground was going to open up and swallow him whole. The section of trees in front of him shook, quivering at the force underneath it. The trees bulged and lifted, crashing into the forest around, deafening.

Higher and higher the dirt rose until it fell away to show scales of gold. As more dirt fell, it became visible that large patches of scales were missing, showing the black petrified flesh and white bones. Wings, long missing its connective membranes, stretched like bony fingers against the falling trees. A long tail snaked from the ground, trashing and twisting. A horned head rose, facing the sky, and it roared, cry shaking his bones. It stopped, turning its massive head to gaze at him with hollow eye sockets.

A dragon of that caliber had not been seen on Metamoor in hundreds of years. He had never practiced necromancy on one, either.

It moved, shaking free of roots and dirt, and faced him. It growled, teeth bared, tongue gone, and in a section of open chest Phobos could see red fire flicker there, caged in bone.

No point in running. Not with this creature.

He held out his bloodied hand to it and the creature paused, muzzle sniffing the air. "My blood is yours. You walk this ground for a second time by my graces. I have called you for a task. You will complete it."

The dragon clawed at the ground, tail trashing.

"Am I understood?" he questioned, voice raising. Show weakness and the creature would not bow.

With a low growl it lowered its massive head, pressing its nose to his bloodied hand.

"Good," he said, petting it with his clean hand. "You are to save a noisy red-head that is harder to subdue than you," he said with an involuntary small chuckle. "Let us be on our way."

The dragon waited as Phobos climbed on its back; him settling between its massive shoulders before standing tall.

"Follow the trail of destruction," Phobos ordered.

It tucked in its useless wings and turned to the path, where it sprinted along it, scales and bone gleaming in the light.

The group turned to Cedric just as Irma excitedly stage-whispered, "Kaiju fight."

The snake looked as shocked as them.

"I knew he knew spells of resurrection, but not magic-less necromancy. That is a risk I never thought even he would take."

"Risk?" Taranee questioned, watching the pool with a weight in her gut. "How?"

Cedric bit his cheek. "It draws the ambient magic from the surroundings to reanimate the vessel. Since the magic of the user isn't involved, and only their blood, the creature maintains all its freewill. Its useful for creating a hoard of death creatures that you can let free to consume endlessly. Yet, something large like a dragon is a substantial risk."

"He never used anything like that before," Elyon pointed out, hand to her mouth, looking at the undead creature her brother was riding. He was still a threat, wasn't he? When he escaped, it was more about annoyance than danger, as they all held more magical might than him. Seeing him do something so grand without a drop of magic was unnerving. It showed that the danger he imposed on the kingdom was what laid in his mind, not just raw power.

"Like I said, it is a risk to himself." Cedric tapped his fingers to his leg, watching his old lord head to the aid of another. "Phobos does not take risk with his own life." He looked at the queen and the Guardians. "Even fighting you all is not a real risk to him. You will not kill him and he does not age. He can merely wait us all out. Yet, his pride makes him try to tear you all down."

Taranee turned to Cedric. "Yeah, so about that. How is he immortal? The Oracle never gave us a straight answer. Just conflicting statements like he's always been around but he is an heir to Meridian… And he does look like Elyon. He even calls them siblings, so he has to be Weira's child, right?"

Cedric looked up, hand now on chin. "Curious, that the Oracle would say such a thing. He was born an heir of Meridian."

Miranda scoffed. "He never shut up about it."

"The odd thing is that he is the only male born to the royal line in recorded history."

"Does any of that matter?" Cornelia demanded, seeing Elyon's tight lipped expression. "The Oracle just meant that evil, like him, has always existed. There isn't always a deeper meaning, Taranee."

The fire master frowned. "I suppose. I just think seeing that he still has tricks up his sleeve, we need to plan for the unexpected. After this, housing him on Metamoor might not be a good idea."

Elyon tensed. "What? I have to bind his powers. I can't monitor him off world."

Taranee placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm just thinking out loud. Final say is yours. But maybe he should be housed on Earth? There is near no loose magic, as it's all funneled to Lillian. She's strong enough to bind him. Plus Will can re-enforce any spells and enchantments."

Elyon shook her head. "I've kept him locked up for years just find before they," she nodded at the couple, where Miranda gave a fake smile and waved. "Set him free. I just need to remove him from the normal cells."

Miranda added, chipper, "There is always the Tower of Mist on Kandrakar, right? That vile creature would despise it, surrounded by magic forbidden to him. He might even jump in to the never-ending void after a while." She gave a wistful sigh. "Never to be seen again."

"Okay then…" Irma coughed, sliding away from the starry-eyed spider woman.

"I think the zombie dragon caught up to the big stone thing," Hay-Lin announced, the only one still watching, worry gnawing at her gut. Who cared where they threw Phobos after this? Just that Will was safe. And after hearing her scream in pain, she knew that would not happen with Phobos around.

Were they fated to fight him for the rest of their lives? How was that fair? They did so much good, helped so many people. Yet, they would always have that mean, cruel person hanging over them? Why was he like that when Elyon was such a sweet person? Even when tricked by Phobos to fight against them, she tried to just deter their pursuit. And came to regret the times she turned her magic on them.

How was any of this fair to any of them?

Was the universe really this unfair?

Phobos could see the earth titan in the distance. It had left the thick forest to stomp its way over a rich, expansive green field, tall grass compressed into deep pits under the weight of its steps.

"That is your prey," Phobos called, voice raised against the noise of the bounding dragon and rumbling ground. "The one you seek is in its grasp. Free her. No harm is to befall her."

This was foolish.

But Phobos felt his heart pound in exhilaration for the first time in years. The impending clash between giants, an ancient undead dragon and an elemental earth titan, was given to be a sight.

The dragon leaped from the forest, claws gouging the earth, bare wings extended in its own excitement, and galloped across the grassland.

Phobos braced himself. Knowing the safer choice would be dismounting and watching from afar, but the creature might view that as weakness and abandon the fight. Dragons were prideful and respected power. And Phobos understood both things very well.

The dragon gained ground quickly and soon overtook the gray giant, leaping with claws out. A snarl ripping through it. Phobos gripped the bony wing at his side to stay on. The giant stumbled but didn't fall. Its head spun around, joints bending in reverse, and its back became its front. The now right hand was clenched into a ball. The left one gripped the snarling dragon's neck, holding it back from biting it.

The dragon gurgled as the titan squeezed its neck, compressing the scales and cracking bone. It dug long claws into the grooves of the hand holding it and raked at the rocks, weakening the connection before it kicked back, ripping the hand away with it. The undead creature backed away, shaking its head and flicking its tail. The hand fell into a heap of stones that quickly rolled back to the titan, who lowered its stump, letting its hand reform.

"Interesting," he said, in genuine enjoyment. "What a high caliber specimen." He pat between the dragon's shoulder blades. "It's a shame you will rip it apart, permanently. Do what you just did and sever the other hand," he ordered.

The dragon charged, the titan swinging its free hand at the dragon. The lizard ducked, belly pressing low, muzzle pointed up that the underside of the titan's face. Under him, Phobos felt the gold scales heat, a rumble building.

"No!" he snapped, realizing what the dragon was doing. "Not while she is in its grasp!" The flames would cook her within its sealed grip.

The dragon stopped, steam released as it suppressed the fire. The titan landed a hard blow in its hesitation, striking it down into the ground. It grunted and retreated, bony wings curling at its side, as the titan attempted to stomp its head.

The dragon coiled back and sprung forward, tackling it and successfully knocking it on its back. It scrambled on top, holding it down for the moment with its weight, and clamped its jaw on the stone wrist and ripped at it. The hand severed, rocks falling away, revealing a splash of red.

"Keeper!" he bellowed, hand reaching out as the dragon turned to clamp its maw at the titan's head. He had slid down the side of the beast, using the bony wing to stay atop it while getting within reach of the Keeper.

Will was dazed, having hit her head when the titan fell. Seeing Phobos atop a gold, decaying dragon holding out a hand was enough for her to think she was concussed.

"Keeper!" he yelled again, as he would be out of reach as soon as the dragon moved or the titan shoved them off.

Finally she reached out, her fingers were red and raw, and he grabbed her. He pulled her to his front, wrapping one arm around her frame and gripping the beast's wing as he returned to its back.

Will didn't object as they settled and she was pulled tight to Phobos' chest, black robe silky against her skin. Close enough to see his tattoos on his neck stretch as he drew a breath and bellowed, "Finish this!"

The dragon thundered, body heating, and blasted fire at the titan's head. It struggled in the flames for a moment as it reformed its hand. Now free to use both, it gripped the dragon's maw, forcing it closed, and pressed its other to its chest, shoving it away. It kept the hold on its maw, twisting the head against the conflicting forces, snapping its neck with a sickening crack.

It caused the dragon to stumble and Phobos fixed his grip on the Keeper, arm around her back, hand on her hips, her chest to his. He didn't need her trying to go punch the titan herself. He saw the damage she had done to herself while trying to claw her way to freedom. She was unpredictable, and this was his task to complete.

Sure enough, he was right, as her grip on his robe loosened, hands pushing him away, only to grip tight again when he kept her close. Her brown eyes turned up, and it surprised him to see the panic in them. She wasn't used to letting someone else handle things. The woman in his grasp was a leader, a bolt of lightning that struck down anything in her path. And now she had to depend on him.

Trust him.

"It's already dead," Phobos assured as she looked back at the fight, body nestled against his. "It will take far more than that to stop it."

The dragon moved back, head lopsided for a moment before the necromancy bindings made it stable. Most of its bones were already decayed and broken. Only borrowed magic and blood held it together. The titan readied itself for another attack and the dragon thundered again, roar shaking them to their bones, and released another blast of fire. This time flames edged in white.

The titan walked forward, stumbling in the stream the dragon forced at its head, heating the stone until lava dripped from it. The undead creature pressed forward, pressing all its magic into the fire, turning it fully white, face to face with the titan. When the torrent stopped, the stone head was gone, lava bubbling. The titan started crumbling, stones crashing into each other as it fell apart. Mission completed, magic depleted, the dragon collapsed too, body ripping apart from the battle damage and nothing to keep it whole.

Everything settled, the two beasts now still, and Phobos relaxed, pleased at the outcome. It was a few moments before he realized he was still holding the Keeper against him, who was oddly still clutching at his chest with her bloodied hands. He released the dragon's wing and pulled one bleeding hand into his.

She flinched, even as he tried to be gentle.

"You tried to claw your way out," he said, impressed by her powerful will to live.

Phobos expected her to yell, snatch her hand back, and pull away. He didn't expect to see her eyes water, as she looked at him.

"You asshole," she whispered. "You're such an asshole." She clenched her teeth, fighting back her emotions as she looked down, other hand squeezing at his chest. "I thought you weren't going to come. I thought I was about to die." She closed her eyes, a lone tear streaking down her cheek. "But you actually came."

Phobos instantly became uncomfortable, holding the distraught woman to him. He looked around in a panic, not sure what to do. He wanted to push her away, yet he knew her state was his fault. He had to put himself at risk to save her when he could have easily handled the smaller golem. Overall, his actions in the temple were foolish and rash, not even acting in the best interest of himself. All because she had angered him. Because she was getting under his skin. Distracting him.

Awkwardly, he stiffly pat her head and said, a bit nervously, "There, there."

The Keeper let out a small laugh, pulling away and wiping at her eyes. "You are really bad at comforting someone."

He frowned, happy to now push her away. "That is not a skill I have practiced. Nor wish too."

"Yeah, that's clear," Will said, slipping back and moving to slide down the dragon's body. She was still shocked he came for her on a dragon… wait.

On the ground, she looked over at the fallen beasts as Phobos joined her. He took a moment to fix his clothes.

"You bitched about me being able to read some old language and have a bit of strength… but you can summon a freaking dragon?" she stated, feeling like her old self as her temper flared.

Being trapped in the titan's grip was terrifying. She had struggled, hitting and scraping until she realized the there was no opening to the outside, and it was getting harder to breathe. Sealed with only minutes of air, she truly thought she was at her end. Because why, in a million years, trial or not, would Phobos come for her? If she really was the one that triggered the forge, it seemed plausible that her dying would release the magic that bound them in it.

So why come for her?

And was she really about to… die? Or was that a trick meant to make her grateful to be saved? Did he know that there was no real danger and was just playing along?

"I summoned nothing," he stated, picking off three large gold scales. He looked around and turned to her. He handed her the scales. "Here, take these and place them in your pocket."

Will's anger slipped away at the odd request. "Uh, why?"

Phobos sighed. "Must I explain everything? Why can't you just do as told?"

Will narrowed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. "Wow, you actually had some brownie points for saving me and, just like that, they're gone. Carry your own body parts." Will turned, looking for the way back.

"I have nowhere to place them."

"Then leave them."

"Aren't you even the slightest bit curious if this is all an illusion?" he asked, bewildered at her.

That grabbed her attention, and she faced him. "What do you mean?"

Phobos took a couple steps towards her until he was within arm's reach as he explained, "That first trial seemed like it was something in our minds. That room with the flame, between trials, appears real. This," he waved an arm at the two fallen magic beasts. "Also seems real." He turned his left hand over and she now saw a deep cut that was surprisingly clotted already. When did that happen?

"Why would my blood work on an illusion? It felt real. The connection to the beast."

Will thought back to being trapped. She looked down, one arm crossed to grab the other as she admitted, "I was running out of air and I… you're right, this seems real." She looked up and met his blue eyes and saw traces of real worry there. "Can we die here?"

Phobos held her gaze. "I… believe so."