Wow…that last chapter was long, wasn't it? I didn't intend for it to be that way. What I had originally wanted to do was put the first part (you know, when Dan was nine?) at the beginning of this chapter. But then I decided that I need to involve Lady Abigail a bit more, so this ended up being ch. 6 instead of ch. 5. T.T Now you're all gonna hate me 'cuz this one's really short (warning: slight fluff). Shout outs to the ever faithful Warrior of Virtue and James Barker. ((hands them each a cupcake)) You are now officially my best friends!

I want to apologize for some minor mistakes that I made in previous chapters. First, I re-read Lullaby, and noticed that I had the word 'mirror' about twelve hundred times. Ouch, that's embarrassing. Second, I know I said that Megwynne's last name was Stormbringer, but I found out that it's actually Stormbinder. Whoops. Sorry Megwynne. Lastly, when I said that The Boatman would ferry you for seven lost souls, I screwed up. It's eight. My bad…

The Mystiques all-ladies performing choir is heading for a competition in Ohio this weekend. Goddess willing, we'll actually place this time… ((holds up a two-handed "rock on" symbol)) Wish us luck, y'all! XD

Disclaimer still applies.

Chapter 6: Midnight Contemplation

Daniel blinked a few times and scratched at his skull. Five more minutes, he thought sleepily. Wait… The armored skeleton sat bolt upright and frantically looked around. Yes, everything was the same as he had left it. The fire in the middle of the floor was still burning brightly, and the second princess of Ethrealmere was still lying across from him on the opposite side of the flames. Dan smacked his forehead angrily. How on Gaia's green earth did I manage to fall asleep?

He got up and made his way over to the huge wooden doors. Checking to see that they were still heavily bolted, Dan returned to his comfortable little corner of the undertaker's building and plopped back down. My crypt would have been safer, he mused. If I'd been able to get to it. Admittedly, carrying a precious, comatose being in one's arms while trying to fight off an army of undead soldiers was a bit tricky.

As he leaned against the wall, the dancing shadows across the woman's face caught his eye. He was suddenly stuck by a nagging bout of deja-vou. Dan squinted, trying to place the feeling. "She certainly is beautiful," he said quietly. He picked up his shield and stared at the distorted reflection. He ran his skeletal fingers down his cheekbone. "A hundred years…this is what I was reduced to. But her…" The knight shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. "A hundred years…"

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft gasp.

Lady Teran's fingers twitched as the feeling slowly returned to her body. The aching numbness that had covered her for more than a century was finally wearing off; she could sense her conscious reforming in her mind. We are…I am…myself… she whispered to her spirit. We are…I am…complete…

And her spirit whispered back. Wake up…open your eyes…our eyes…wake up…

The lady complied and uttered a tiny groan. Slowly, her upper lids trembled, then forced themselves open. She waited patiently for her blurry vision to fix itself. As the world around her came into focus Teran could hear the crackling of fire, could see shadows dancing on the gray stone of the ceiling above. The air around her smelt of mold and must, the ground beneath her felt cold and hard. Calling forth whatever strength her muscles still retained, she rolled onto her side. She waited a few moments before continuing her attempt at sitting up. She managed to get to her knees.

Looking around, the second princess of Ethrealmere noted that she was in a small room made of stone. The entrance, or what she assumed was the entrance, was barred by a pair of heavy wooden doors. A cheery fire burned brightly in front of her, casting long, eerie strands of light flickering through the air.

"A hundred years…"

Teran started, letting out a gasp of surprise. Quickly, perhaps a little too quickly, she whipped her head around to face the voice. Her body still weak, she had to wait a moment for the dizziness to subside. When she could open her eyes again she looked back to see a figure hunched in the corner. From the shape of the outline it appeared to be a man in armor. Unfortunately for Teran, the person was hidden by shadows, so seeing their face was nearly impossible. "H-hello?" she squeaked, her voice even lower than a whisper. Her vocal chords, not having been used for over a century, needed a little work. She swallowed nervously and tried again. "Hello?"

The outline shifted, apparently startled. The clanking noise that echoed through the small space confirmed that, yes, the person was in fact wearing armor. The figure raised a hand and gave a small wave. "Glad you're awake, Your Highness."

The copper-haired woman relaxed somewhat. At least he is friendly, she thought. She cocked her head to one side as curiosity began to seep in around the unease. "Did you awaken me?" The figure nodded once and Teran leaned foreword a little more, willing her muscles to respond. "Won't you come out into the light?"

Long pause, very long pause. "Err, well… I'd rather not right now." The silhouette scooted even further into the dark recesses of his corner. It seemed to bow slightly from the chest. "With all due respect of course."

Teran chewed her lip, the nervousness edging its way back in. "But why? If you brought me back, then you are a friend. You've nothing to fear."

"It's not myself that I'm worried about."

The princess furrowed her brow. Shifting her gaze from the shadows, her eyes fell on the burning tinder beside her. Slowly she reached out her fingertips to the dancing flames. Summoning whatever strength her body had left, Lady Tern took a deep breath and plunged her hand into the flickering light. She retracted her fingers after a moment, wincing slightly. As she withdrew her hand, a good-sized ball of fire seemed to hover just above her outstretched palm. She held the blazing sphere up a little higher, illuminating the surrounding area.

What the light revealed made the princess' eyes widen just a bit. Unable to hide her sharp intake of breath, she quickly bit her lips to suppress any more displays of surprise. An armored skeleton, sans bottom jaw and left eye, sat across from her. He had one arm propped up on his knee while the other draped across the opposite leg, which was stretched out before him. A sword rested at his side. It gave a timid half-smile (at least it appeared to be a smile) and a soft, uneasy chuckle.

Teran sat back and blinked amazedly. "You …you are…"

"Dead?" The skeletal knight shrugged. "Go ahead, you can say it." He moved so that he was sitting a little straighter and bowed respectfully, this time from the waist. "I am Sir Fortesque, knight of Gallowmere. It is an honor to protect you, Your Highness."

Any nervousness that resided in the copper-headed female melted away. She smiled cheerfully and cocked her head once again. "Please," she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "There is no need to be so formal. Call me Teran."

"Forgive me, milady, but I wouldn't feel comfortable doing that."

Teran giggled; a very cute, charming sound. "Well then. I suppose 'milady' will do just fine." She leaned back on her knees before speaking again. "What may I know you as, sir knight?"

"Daniel, or simply Dan if you'd prefer."

The smile on Teran's face abruptly dissipated, and suddenly, the light in her palm vanished. Dizziness raced through her as she began to fall limply backwards. Just before she connected with cold stone, a pair of bony arms caught her by the shoulders. Opening her eyes, the princess saw that Daniel was now kneeling awkwardly beside her. She flashed him a weak smile. "I am sorry; I guess I overexerted myself. It would not be the first time…" She slumped against his chest.

Sir Dan shifted and laid the sleeping form of the princess down if front of him. Gently brushing a few wayward strands of her copper hair out of her face, he whispered as softly as he could, "I think what you need is a little more rest, milady."

A tall, thin man in a long red robe stood in the doorway of a massive throne room. He glanced around him in a bored fashion before smashing the end of his trident against the already cracked floor. "What's taking you imbeciles so long?" he bellowed into the gloom. A chatter of nervous voices followed.

Just then, a solitary boiler guard came marching up to his master. "My Lord…" he started, but was cut off by another clack of wood upon stone.

"Well? Where is it?"

The iron foot soldier made an attempt at a gulp. "We…we found the altar, My Lord, but unfortunately…" He scratched timidly at his (cheek). "There were difficulties."

The warlock snapped his fingers, summoning a bolt of electricity from the garnet on his scepter. Needless to say, the boiler guard would be in pain for the next few weeks. "What do you mean 'there were difficulties'? I send you fools to do one simple task, and you can't even manage that!" He shoved past his soldier and stormed off in the direction from whence said being had come. "Must I do everything myself?"

Princess Lydith stood triumphantly before the Mirror Altar; a pile of unconscious boiler guards lying at her feet. She narrowed her eyes at the sound of approaching footsteps, her face contorting to a particularly nasty scowl as Zarok the Necromancer came into view. "Leave my home, demon." she hissed, her voice like ice. "Leave my family and my kingdom alone."

"As far as I can see, Your Majesty, your kingdom no longer exists." The warlock smiled a wicked smile and pointed his trident at the princess' ghostly figure. "Now, give me the Angel's Hymn."

The transparent female lifted her chin, her face defiant. "No." she said coldly.

"No?"

-"No."

Zarok's eye twitched. "Then pay!" He took his staff with both hands and slammed it to the ground. Bolts of lighting, similar to the one used on the guard, shot from the garnet and flew in every direction. The sparks crashed into several giant pillars, causing a few of them to crumble. The light subsided, revealing a very unharmed, and slightly irritated, Lady Lydith.

Said woman snorted, giving an amused half-smile. "You cannot hurt what is already dead, you arrogant twit." She flipped her hair for emphasis.

"Impudent wench!" growled Zarok as he pointed at her a second time. A single greenish bolt fired from his index finger and passed right through the apparition's chest. The sickening sound of shattered glass echoed throughout the darkened chamber.

The princess turned and clapped her hands to her mouth, gaping in horror at the broken remains of the mirror. Pieces of glass lay scattered across the dark green cloth, multiple shards had lodged themselves deep into the wax of the candles. The once perfect oval frame was now nothing more than a twisted mass of scorched silver. Lydith angrily turned to face the wretched man behind her. "How dare you!" she hissed around clenched teeth.

Zarok simply smirked. "Fine then," he drawled sinisterly. "Play it your way. But be warned, princess, when I find the Hymn I'll personally see to it that everything you have left is annihilated." A terrible grin began to creep at the corners of his mouth. "And I'll make certain that your soul, and the souls of your family are splintered as easily as that mirror." With that, he took his leave.

The lady fell limply to her knees. Tears began to well up in her pearlesque eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she stared up into the ceiling. "God help us." she whispered fearfully. "He knows how to destroy the dead!"