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Chris was slowly regaining consciousness. His chest was throbbing with pain, each inhalation seemed to be tearing his lungs apart and sent pang through his head. It hurt so badly that he almost wanted to faint again. An attempt to remember his whereabouts failed miserably - the last thing the whitelighter could remember was being summoned and then attacked. And Joanna's dead… For a second a pang of guilt made him forget about his wound. Obviously, it was a trap and he was their goal, not Joanna. She died only because someone wanted to get him. He should be dead by now… By the way, why was he still alive?

The sound of muffled conversation made Chris prick up his ears.

'Here. Now take a spoonful of this stuff… I know it stinks but when they didn't know aromatizers at that time… and spread it on the bandage… like that,' a male voice explained.

A child asked something unintelligible.

'I'd certainly do so if he was a usual man but remember, magic is not to be exposed to people. What if he suddenly orbs out or his wound starts healing up on its own? Besides, I don't think any human doctor knows an antidote for a darklighter's poison.' The voice seemed vaguely familiar…

And just as the man said: 'Okay, now let's check up on our patient,' Chris suddenly remembered what had happened.

By the time Cole entered the room, Pat following him closely, Chris had already managed to prop himself up on his elbows trying to look around.

'It's too early for you to get up,' the demon pointed out. 'And you better stay where you are. I'm not exactly an expert in medicine so if you get yourself some kind of complications don't count on me.'

'Cole…' A bandage was tightening Chris' chest preventing him from taking deep breaths but still it was difficult to talk.
Cole frowned.
'We'll discuss everything later. Now I need you to lie still so that I could check your wound.'

Chris obediently lay back and while the demon was preparing some paste and bandages the other had time to examine him closer. Cole Turner hadn't changed much since… or rather before Chris saw… would see… him last. Well, at least, he hadn't changed in appearance - unsurprisingly for a demon even considering his numerous deaths. But he seemed calmer, more relaxed. 'That's how it should be in this timeline,' Chris reminded himself. No one ventured to be relaxed when his dearest brother turned evil - it could cost a man his head. He and Pat had a hard time first trying to turn Wyatt back, then to strip his powers. Once Chris even seriously contemplated vanquishing his brother. He flinched inwardly. It was a really hard time. Pat dissuaded him from this desperate idea. Her father being an example of misjudging and quick death sentence, she believed that Wyatt hadn't turned evil willfully and that he had to be saved. It was she who first came up with the idea of time-traveling. Just the day before her death…

A sharp pain in his wound made Chris wince. Cole was cleansing the wound with some nasty-looking jelly.
'That's what I call pouring salt into one's wounds,' the Halliwell grumbled in a mock complaint.
'That's your witch's recipe, not mine,' Cole retorted. 'You should be grateful I'm helping you at all.'
Chris grinned. His uncle's temper obviously hadn't mellowed, especially now that something seemed to worry him. 'Why, nothing to worry about,' Chris thought with a smirk, 'it's just a strange wounded whitelighter calling him 'uncle' on the couch in his parlor and, as far as I remember, an already powerful kid whom the absolute majority of the Under- and Upperworld would like to kill the moment they learnt about her existence. Everything's just fine!'


Phoebe suppressed a yawn and cast a sidelong glance at her sister who seemed as zealous as five hours ago. At the moment Paige was sitting on the couch, a particularly large volume on her knees, totally absorbed in reading. Heaps of other prophecy books covered the floor and one look at several neat piles near the table dashed every hope to finish with it soon.

'Why bother living if everything was predicted hundreds of years ago,' the witch muttered. 'Paige?'

'Um?'

'Are you sure we'll find something?' Paige finally raised her head up from the volume and looked at Phoebe.'Well, we have to, otherwise Piper will go mad. Or you may have another brilliant idea so that we'll have every right to quit this bookworm business. Any suggestions?'
'None at all,' admitted Phoebe wincing at the thought of Piper filling the whole Manor with potions. 'But what I know for sure is that we can't waste time here anymore. Look at this, Paige,' she waved her hand at the book heaps on the floor. 'We've scanned thousands of these damn prophecies and what's the result? They're all alike, predicting all kinds of great changes, but telling nothing as to when, where and how! And what's more important, who!'
'Maybe that's what Elders are for,' Paige shrugged. 'After all, they're always the ones to come up with terrifying predictions that the universe, magic and all people on earth will die if we don't do something.'
'But as far as I see they're trying to saddle their dirty work on us,' her sister concluded closing the book with an angry slam. 'That's ridiculous. I mean, we don't have a slightest clue what we're looking for'
'Okay, don't fume,' Paige also shut her volume and leaned against the back of the couch. Despite all her stubbornness the witch was glad to have some rest. Besides, she couldn't help but think about one rather mundane way of search. 'Let's try a logical approach, just for once.'
Phoebe raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
'They say the person's coming into power, right?' After her sister's nod the witch continued: 'That means he or she is most probably a kid.'
'Not necessarily,' Phoebe objected. 'We received the powers in our mid-twenties, remember?'
'Yeah, but this is another case. Parents don't usually bind their child's powers out of the blue, on the contrary, they teach him how to use his gift. Besides, witches usually have whitelighters, so if the child was born to witches the Elders would know about him.'
'So he's not a witch,' Phoebe agreed after a second's hesitation. 'What about demons?'
'Demons are evil from their birth,' Paige reminded. 'They would have sensed it.'
Phoebe looked away, suddenly feeling a pang in her heart.

'He may try to be good,' she replied in a low voice.
'Phoebe, stop it!' the youngest Halliwell exclaimed. She threw up her hands in irritation. 'I can't believe that you, of all people, are saying this!'
'Forget it,' Phoebe almost whispered. Will the pain never leave… 'However,' she continued, her voice firm again, 'you haven't considered the possibility of the child being given up.'
Paige cast her a sidelong glance, suspicious of the quick change of mood, but answered nevertheless:
'Yes, that's exactly what I mean. The person must have been given up for adoption and in that case neither he nor his parents would know about his abilities...'
'…and Elders wouldn't know anything about him,' understood Phoebe.

'Just like they didn't know anything about me,' Paige finished. She grinned and assumed her best child-like manner. 'Am I not the most intelligent witch in this world?'
Phoebe laughed. 'Of course, sweetie, you are. So, we have a full right to spit upon these stupid prophecies and look for an adopted kid instead.'
'Actually, I liked some of those prophecies,' smiled Paige. 'Especially the one about children born to the greatest lovers who will define the fate of the world. It's so romantic.'
'It is,' her sister agreed, also smiling, but suddenly paled. She felt a rush of panic, her heart thumped in her chest, but in a second everything was gone.
'Phoebe? Are you okay?' Phoebe saw Paige's worried expression and smiled.
'Yeah, everything's fine, it's just my empathy playing tricks on me again. Someone must have been pretty much scared around here.'
Paige looked at her sister strangely.
'The matter is no one's around here,' she said.


Axara stared absently at the ancient parchment lying on the stone pedestal in front of her. 'Two children born to the greatest lovers will define the fate of this world. The blessed and the cursed, bound by blood, the future of magic will hold.' She was almost sure, that the blessed one was Wyatt Halliwell, the son of a Charmed one and an Elder. After all, his power was immense and rumours about the love story of his parents filtered even into the Underworld. But the problem was she couldn't figure out the second person prophesied…
She started pacing the hall. 'Bound by blood' most probably meant it was the child of a Charmed one - as far as she had found out Leo Wyatt didn't have any living relatives and neither did the three sisters. Phoebe Halliwell had already wasted her chance for the true love and with Belthazor vanquished she presented no danger. The youngest one, Paige, hadn't yet found her destiny and certainly had no children. Piper Halliwell… Well, she had another offspring - the same Chris whose alternate future self messed up with demons' plans so often - but he could hardly be called 'the cursed'. So, it looked like the whelp hadn't been born yet… But for some reason Axara wasn't sure. Maybe, it was her centuries-aged intuition or some kind of foreboding but she felt that situation was close to getting out of her control. Something was wrong.
The Seer stopped abruptly. She used to trust her feelings and now they told her to check everything once more and very scrupulously. And the first place she was going to visit was the Wasteland.


How did you like it? Isn't it boring? First fic, I'm so nervous!