Chapter Twenty-Nine

Final

The magic around Prince Phobos was thick and suffocating. Heavy on his limbs and invasive enough that he felt his skull throb from the pressure. Unbalancing him in every way, leaving him spinning, trapped in a vortex, drowning at sea. The feeling was so powerful, so astronomical, beyond his comprehension. He felt… weak.

The feeling disgusted him, making his body fight, uselessly, against the swelling force around him. Something in the prince told him if it consumed him, if it swallowed him into the dark, gaping maw that was now closing, he would lose. Lose something that was already slipping away.

Too late.

This was the deal.

Time to pay his part.

There was no fighting. Not against the level of magic eating at him, picking at his flesh and cleaning his bones. All he could do was hold on to the bright ball of warmth that was pressing against him, not letting go as it consumed him.

He trusted it, even if he didn't know why. Trusted the sparked of electricity in him that yearned for it. So deeply that his soul was still screaming to fight, even if the battle was already lost. Trusted the soft, wet lips that flared an unfamiliar ache in him, one that was far more welcomed. The determined hand that gripped so urgently at the nape of his neck, pulling him lower, deeper. And the soft body that was crushed to his, familiar, but distantly so.

Why he trusted? That part eluded him in the heaving moment. More and more so as the surrounding magic reached a fevered, pulsing peak.

"No", was a desperate last thought of the part of him that understood, that knew what was so important and was being stripped away, and then silenced forever.

The feelings slipped away, as he was no longer between the point of knowing and disarray. Now pushed fully into the infuriating spectrum of loss and ignorance. Prince Phobos knew something was lost in that moment, but he did not know of its value as his senses came back to him. Taking a moment to understand what happened and where he was, he recalled facing off with the bothersome hag, Nerissa. What happened was a blur. As things were patchy in his memory, only he had a deep sense of triumph.

Was that why he was being kissed?

In victory?

It was perplexing how his body acted on its own, like it was natural and not improper to display that level of intimacy outside of a private bedchamber. How his arms were wrapped around the young woman with the same tight need as she clung to him. How his mouth hungered for her sweet taste.

She smelled pleasant, yet it stroked a fire in him deeper than what would make sense with the simpleness of it. Her magic was laced to his, tangled, hard to see where one ended and the other began. It was a deepness that he never felt before; a level of trust he never bothered to seek, as that would only be a weakness. Yet, she was welcoming his magic all the same, letting him feel her emotions; worry and relief competing in her in a spinning fray.

And love.

A pitiful amount that could only pull one down, away from self-fulfilment and ambition.

The magic that pulsed in her was pure quintessence, so she was a Light. Maybe one Nerissa had captured and had been let free once Phobos was victorious? Yet, this act was one that had to be seen as intimate, no matter what planet she was from? There was not an inch of space between them. Her chest pressed to his, hips pressed to his, lips to his, magic to his.

While his body, his magic, welcomed the lustful touch, his brain, his reason, finally pulled him away, anger building at the lines being crossed and his lack of understanding of how it all came to pass.

"Phobos," she called as he pulled his face away. Her deep brown eyes fluttered open, the sight making his anger fade, even against his senses. Short red hair framed her soft, round face that was dusted with a touch of freckles. The lips that were just pressed to his were open, pink and still inviting. His body leaned into hers for a moment, the movement a deep reflex, only for him to jerk back. At war with himself and his blasted, betraying body. It was as if it wasn't his own anymore. "Phobos?"

The woman was shockingly strong, he found, as he could not break her hold. Yet, once she realized he wanted free of her grasp, she was quick to release him, not trying to contain him.

"Prince Phobos," he said, looking around, seeing they were in his whisperer garden, lit by a half-full moon, a splash of bright stars, and orbs of his own magic.

"What?" she questioned, arms now pulled to her chest without him to paw at. She was wearing Earth sleeping garbs, shorts and a shirt. While he had seen similar clothes on the four guardians of Infinity, all her age, there was something comical about the green, frog-like characters that peppered the cloth. She was barefooted, toes digging into the cold ground, nervousness growing visible in every inch of her frame as she stared up at him as she scanned his face.

"The proper way to address one of my status is with my birthright and certainly not in the manner that you so boldly, and lewdly, did," he clarified, taking a few wide steps back. Was she working with Nerissa? Maybe here to confuse him? Was it working? He was having a hard time processing what had transpired.

He recalled crossing through a portal, leaving the four guardians, the tengu, the once rebel leader, and their four human hosts to handle Nerissa, as per their deal….

What deal was that, exactly? The prince recalled a pardon and a vow to someone… the rebel leader? Vathek? No, certainly not Vathek. Then who…?

The woman stared at him, crestfallen at his rebuke. She was lucky he was so dazed or he would have actually said something worse about her bold behavior. He was being rather calm, in his opinion.

"Do you know…" she spoke, only she stopped, voice shaking. "Do you know who I am?" she finally asked, voice quivering.

He scoffed. Why would he know some random woman who looked like she fell through a portal mid-sleep? "You clearly do not know who I am," he reprimanded, finally finding his proper sense of disapproval at her behavior. "To act as you have, so why would I know of you, girl?"

Around him, the whisperers sprang to life, excited to finally speak, and loudly chanted, "Wilhelmina! Wilhelmina! She saved you from Nerissa!"

Again, he scoffed. Saved? What nonsense was the whisperer spewing? Did not he defeat her and take what was rightfully his?

At that thought, he scanned the ground near them, seeing the staff that held the Heart of Zamballa, and the absorbed Heart of Meridian, near a thicket of whisperers. He reached out a hand, seeing the mage ring adorning it, and called the staff to him.

To his deep delight, it came.

So that part of his memory was true, he had finally claimed his birthright and even an extra Heart for his vast troubles. Good. Very good.

Aware he was in sleepwear, he weaved a simple spell to dress him in a black silk robe and walking slippers. He could worry about a proper wardrobe once he reclaimed the castle and freed his loyal subjects.

"Saved me?" Phobos repeated, not caring much for what was happening anymore now that his staff was in his hands. He had things to do. Grand, important things that would take weeks to attend to. One pretty red-head in his garden would not waste anymore of his time. "Then take my pardon and leave my sight; I have matters to be attended to."

"Wait!"

To his endless displeasure, it seemed his new claim did not come without drawbacks.

While the red-head had taken an urgent step towards him, hands out in a peaceful gesture, a second, familiar voice called out from within the staff in unison with hers.

With a groan, Phobos turned his gaze to the large crystal, the image of his sister now visible, surrounded by a fine mist.

"Ugh, Elyon," he said, mouth twisted down at the sight of his younger sister. She was the very reason everything fell apart so quickly. And now he needed to fix her rather sad attempt at ruling a planet-wide kingdom. "Is this not a magical prison? Should you not be muzzled? Suspended, frozen in a pocket dimension?"

"Nah, Nerissa liked the chatter, made her feel less lonely," an old, short woman quipped, appearing next to Elyon.

"I wasn't lonely," Nerissa, the hag herself, snapped, arms crossed. "I enjoyed the constant pleads of mercy and freedom. Helped me sleep at night."

"Is Elyon… talking to you?" the woman tentatively asked, eyeing the staff with a new look of interest. Maybe she was a threat, after all? "Is she okay?"

"If you worry about my sister, then you are not here for my interest," he said, attention now back on the red-head. "Leave before you try my patience any further."

She swallowed, but not of fear, just nervousness. Her small hands went to her chest again, and now he saw what hung there, glowing with the faint traces of the purest magic in the universe.

"The Heart of Kandrakar?" he questioned, his interest now drawn seeing the most coveted Heart of magic in all the known realms.

Wasn't Nerissa the keeper of…? No, that made little sense. There were four new guardians, all young women, so there had to be a new keeper as well. Why did he never meet her before? Why did she never fight him when he was on the throne against the Oracle's approval? What was gained by only sending the other four to work with him to stop Nerissa when so much was at risk?

"You are the current Keeper of the Heart?" he questioned further and her face lit up, nodding at his inquiry. "Why have you shown yourself now, after years of seclusion? Cowardice or some overly convoluted plan of the feeble Oracle?"

Ah, why did his chest clench at the look of despair that befell her? What magic did she employee that drew him to her so strongly with such plain displays of emotion?

"This is your fault, Nerissa!" Elyon yelled, angry and voice shaky. She seemed near tears from just watching the simple interaction between the prince and red-head.

Nerissa let out a deep huff, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Do not blame me; I was risking it all on him loving her. But, tsk tsk, he's power hungry after all."

"That's not fair," a young blond woman said, dressed in guardian attire. "You backed him into a corner."

A young-looking Kadma, as he knew that insufferable woman no matter her age, spoke up, eyeing him with hostile disapproval. "All our hope rested on the vile prince having a heart; everyone was doomed from the start. Wilhelmina most of all."

"Phobos?" the red-head called, as the conversation distracted him. It seemed Nerissa did something, yet greatly miscalculated. Why would he care for a woman he never met? For anyone other than himself and his gilded destiny?

Feeling annoyed at the chatter from his staff, Phobos frowned at the woman. "Not only have you not answered my questions, but continue to fail to address me properly. Why are you here? Nerissa is now my very irritating problem. The guardians' work here is done. Be gone."

Again, no fear, just nervousness and a sense of deep sadness. "No, it's not," she said, voice clear with some strength. "I don't care if you keep Nerissa locked up in there, but you need to let Elyon and the others out. I… we all can explain what happened. Show you what happened. You just have to trust me, please?" Seeing his face, she quickly said, "I know, I know. This sounds fucking crazy to you. I get it. Nerissa… took something important from you. I want to help you get it back."

"There is no denying something odd has happened. Yet, that is not of importance. If she stole something from me, it must not be of value, as I stand before you with more power than I have ever wielded before. What could be of more worth?" Again, the pain in her was visible. His arms ached to reach out, to embrace her, and that feeling angered him. "Leave," he barked, the confusion in him making his temper short. "We are done here."

The keeper released the Heart and, annoyingly, stepped towards him. "Please, I… I know just telling you won't convince you. But Hay-Lin can show you. And… and as long as you understand, I think you'll… you'll…."

Phobos took a step back, growing aggravated at the reluctance that filled his body as he did so. His body, his magic, craved her touch, her presence. She was a distraction. He was wasting time. Maybe that was a part of whatever plan she and the guardians had?

Growing uneasy, Phobos felt the need to leave and gather his wits. He was at a disadvantage, even with his two Hearts to her one.

"Enough!" he snapped, and it angered him more to see she was still unafraid. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see fear in her wide, brown eyes, but that would be better than that soft, doe eyes that were pleading at him. "If you wish to speak with me, as an agent of Kandrakar, seek an audience with my court once it is reinstated by morning."

Now panic finally took hold of her, moving to stop him from heading to the castle.

"Phobos, Phobos, please, listen!" she urged, hand on his chest in a far too familiar way. "Come back with me to Earth. This isn't what you want, not anymore. Can't you remember that? Even if you can't remember… me?"

Her eyes were searching his, and his body wanted nothing more than to fall into her hold, but the confusion over the situation made him pull away, this time holding the staff between them.

She eyed the staff, but made no move to activate the Heart at her neck.

"Do not touch me," he hissed, not understanding why his normal aversion to touch was not triggering with her presence.

"Sorry," she mumbled, hands cradled to her chest. "I know you don't like… sorry."

"Phobos, listen to Will, please!" Elyon called, face now in his eyeline between him and the keeper. "Go to Earth, to Hay-Lin! Let her show you what happened!"

Phobos had enough.

"Leave," he growled. "When I am done putting my affairs in order, if you are still here, I shall give you lodging beside every other fool who stood by my sister."

And he teleported away in a flash of crackling power, wide brown eyes burned into his memory.

While things might have had a strange start, his new reign was going to be far better than the first.

… But he was going to need to find a way to quiet the blasted collection of magical women in his new staff.

Note: This would transition into Phobos being defeated and then the girls taking down Cedric. I always intended for this story to end in a way for the TV show to pick back up. But now I want to write from Phobos' view and him bickering with the pissed off people in his staff, as that would be hella funny. No promise on when I'll get to part two, tho, but it'll called 'The Prince's Guest' whenever it pops up.

Thanks for all the reviews! It's nice knowing people enjoy this randomness of a story. I know the ending isn't satisfying, but I kinda like the annoying mystery of what exactly happened when Phobos when to face Nerissa.

So, for now, things are concluded! Bye!