Chapter Seven

A Not So Classic Frog and Prince

That night, at the Farshore Estate, Phobos was beyond frustrated, for a few reasons.

The Keeper was obviously at the top. It was amazing how she naturally put him in situations where he could bypass Elyon's magic. Clearly, the Keeper was something no one could plan for. It was funny that she was now a thorn in his sister's side.

There were many times during his subjugation that he cursed his bonds because of missed opportunities, mainly chances to escape or inflict revenge of his treatment. Today, with the Keeper in his grasp, her eyes clouded with lust, his bonds activated in full force. He was painfully aware of what he would have done if he weren't chained by magic.

He was not lying when he said she was tempting. Wet skin an inch from his lips, pure eyes peeking through glistening red hair.

She was always bold, unafraid, adventurous.

And everyday she made new, clearer declarations of her intent. From seeking him out in the courtyard, sharing innocent meals, giving him gifts, and sharing experiences with him over her own comrades. Even openly sitting with him, enjoying the view of the vast ocean in a companionable silence.

Never had someone wanted him with such purpose, knowing him at both at his lowest and his highest.

Given their current uneven status and their history, it still plagued him with doubts. It had to be a trick. He would have done the same, given the reverse. She was powerful. The strongest Light of Infinity he had ever seen. Her bond with the Heart of Kandrakar was pure and deep. Having her as a queen consort would have been welcomed, even without factoring in her beauty or personality. The Keeper's ability to lead was so strong, she had him on her leash after a week.

Phobos hated the idea of being so bewitched by her so fast.

Was he so beaten down from dealing with constant threats on his life, and forced to play in Elyon's games, that he was quick to grab at something that was his?

Ah, his?

The Keeper wasn't his.

She was a force of nature that claimed all in her path.

He was merely in her way, at the moment, and was being pulled into the eye of her storm.

Realistically, how long would she pursue him?

He was forbidden to seek her out. Forbidden to speak or write of his magical bindings. Forbidden from indulging in pleasures of the flesh, a command meant to prevent him from seducing some innocent chambermaid to do his bidding. While Elyon originally thought that aspect was unnecessary, Caleb and Vahtek wanted to leave nothing to chance. Saying they didn't know how low the prince may sink in his desperation.

It insulted him they would think he would bed a common wench just to attempt some desperate escape. Also, the leaders of the kingdom, as always, underestimated their subjects, as the chamber and handmaids were some of his biggest annoyances. Either the staff hated and feared him, running when he came, or smiled and pointed, making sport of his inferior position.

Elyon told the Keeper she made him a guest.

In reality, he was nothing more than a pet.

One that the kingdom wanted to exterminate.

So how long until she took his lack of initiative as… disinterest?

Phobos scowled at himself.

Interested?

Now he was interested in her?

It was one thing to partake when offered; it was another for him to initiate an encounter.

So, again, how long until she noticed she only came to him? Would her good nature win over and make her stop? He didn't tell her to stop, just that he wasn't a secret for her to hide. And what did she do next? Publicly seek his company and stay with him despite the scandal.

Actually, did she understand the magnitude of her actions? She was of Earth, where social norms differed. There she was just another girl, nothing special. Here, in full view of the entire magical universe, she was the Light of Infinity. Keeper of the Heart of Kandrakar. Leader of the Guardians of Magic. Chosen One of Xin Jing, Nymph of the Elements. She was on par with Elyon in status, something she seemed completely unaware of.

What did the Keeper know of her position in the universe? Of the impact of her actions and choices? If she understood, would she still seek him out? If she knew her interest in him could restart the same war that led to the collapse of Weira's kingdom?

But, wasn't that exactly what they wanted, for not just her, but all five guardians? To remain in the dark? They were meant to be the greatest magical fighting force in the universe, not to stop and think of the impact of their actions.

Where ever the Oracle pointed them, they went.

It was interesting how a Light was so skillfully bound to so many others. A Light should rule their kingdom, not be a slave to it.

Ending his inner musings, Phobos looked at his room, lit by moonlight, as there were no provided candles, at the other reason he was currently frustrated. It was not surprising to see everything still covered in the drop cloths used when the estate was closed for the season. A thick layer of dust covered the off white cloths, his luggage thrown in a corner along with a bundle of blankets.

He could make a scene. Elyon would be embarrassed at the obvious slight, as the continual disrespect to him reflected a level of disloyalty to her. She would send the maids or butlers responsible home a day early, maybe garnishing their wages or removing them completely from his personal staff. But that was what they wanted. Even the ones that enjoyed seeing him chained grew bored with it and wanted other duties.

When it was announced the Guardians were spending several weeks at the castle, the longest time they have ever spent, there was a flood of people wanting to be on their waitstaff, especially the Keeper or, as the common masses called her, High Witch.

Now, seen as nothing more than a fly on the wall, the common people spoke freely near him, and he understood why he fell so quickly after over a decade of ruling.

Out of the five, only the Keeper was predestined. The Oracle selected the others to balance her. And the common folk put more weight in being selected by a Celestial Nymph they saw as a goddess, than an old man that never lifted a finger to intervene in their hardships because it wasn't 'allowed'.

So they followed her without question when she arrived. Her willingness to work with the rebel leader and often take part in combat fighting on an infantry level, with the other four fighting larger scale magic duels, often meant she knew their names and shared the same scars. Once she gained access to her quintessence, and ripped apart the Annihilators, the granite golems that tore through miles and miles of countryside, taking hundreds of lives with it, they were in awe of her pure destructive powers that seem to surpass their queens.

The annihilators were still a sore spot with the people. Elyon had just taken the throne and was quick to abandon it to play on Earth with her friends, claiming she needed to finish her education.

It was her first scandal. Even if she didn't know it. The whispers of it had made it to his cell behind the waterfall.

What was she thinking, they asked, dumbfounded. An Earth education? What good was that? She knew nothing of Metamoor. As Phobos had deliberately given her a false education to keep her simple and weak.

So, now in power, she needed to learn their ways. From the simple things like court life and manners, the history of the kingdom, the current land-rulers and their families, and how to handle gossip. And then there were the more pressing things, military tactics, combat techniques, magical training, which land rulers wanted to end the magical line of queens, to the ones that simply would pay tribute if left alone. That was why the rebellion was so small, near all landowners and nobles welcomed the end of the magical reign.

The ruling family were descendants of humans that wandered over and was just given Metamoor. Despite the countless Meridianite races that already lived there, that already had their own ruling systems in place, the Heart of the planet was forever chained to a race not of it.

Did the Guardians ever question why he was in power so easily?

He wasn't the one that took Queen Weira down, just someone strong enough to take the empty throne.

He was a symbol that the ways of old were dying. That gave every noble hope their own families could claim the throne one day. Since, in his court, the races of Meridian did not glamour themselves.

And here, in Elyon's, history was repeating itself.

Phobos focused on the task at hand, tired of his wandering thoughts, and wanting rest. He removed the sheets, tossing them into a dusty heap in the far corner. The bed seemed unbothered, nothing wet or moldy.

At the bedding by his trunk, he pulled at the top sheet, only to flinch back as a hot sensation burned across his hand, like fire. Quickly stepping back, he saw something glitter with red magic. The room was still dark, other than the light from the open window by the bed, so he was cautious as he approached the new light source. Carefully, he pulled the top layer back, only to shield his eyes from a bright flare of magic. Once the light died, he took in the pitiful sight before him.

A small frog creature was struggling in the nest of sheets. It was the size of the palm of his hand, light rapidly changing different colors in its panic. It was clawing the blanket, trying to pull its fat body along, as its broken legs twitched uselessly behind, streaks of red blood showing its slow progress.

A moon opal frog.

He knew they once lived on the Farshore, near a fresh-water lake not far inland. They culled all moon opal frogs in Meridian and Farshore, with a heavy restriction on them throughout Metamoor, as they were incredibly toxic to touch and found their way into a magic users bed, killing them in their sleep as they fed on their magic.

The little creature bleated up at him, eyes intelligent due to the abundance of magic in its veins. It wanted to live. It wanted to make it to another day.

Phobos smiled at the creature's cruel fate. To be used as another failed attempt on his life. After all, it was to be a simple mistake. They would have erected wards in each room to repel creatures like this. They just 'missed' his room.

The frog croaked, breathing hard in its useless struggle, blood leaking with each frantic movement.

Phobos left to the attached waiting chamber that was shared with three other rooms. The estate was small, so it didn't provide the privacy he would like, yet that meant shared items would be safe to use. Seeing the room was empty, he grabbed the communal water pitcher and a silver trinket basin that he emptied of dried foliage. Back in the room, he carefully removed the dusty cover from the vanity and chair. He placed the items down and went to the frog.

It panicked as Phobos reached for it, body flickering between flashy colors. Maybe a warning or just fear? His hand burned where the toxin seeped into his skin, but it was tolerable now that he was prepared for it. It gripped his fingers, croaking in pain.

Phobos placed the creature in the basin. He poured enough cool water in so the frog was covered halfway. He was right, remembering the creature favored freshwater, as it calmed slightly, opening its mouth in the shallow water, breathing becoming more even, water turning pink.

Should he send the thing to the Earth Guardian in the morning, as she possessed healing powers? Phobos scoffed at the thought. They would only accuse him of mindlessly hurting this creature. And they would cull it for everyone's protection.

His bonds forbid him from taking a life, any life, so he couldn't end the thing's misery on his own. He could have left it on the ground, or even in the communal space… but he pitied it. It would have been another sad creature for his collection in his old life. He kept more terrariums than staff, at one point.

The little creature croaked, pulling at the slick edges of the basin. He reached down, letting the frog grab him, and was surprised to see it pull itself halfway in his hand, where it settled, breathing even, his fingers burning at the small touch. Sighing, he took the basin in his other hand and carried it to the side table by the bed, placing it in the moonlight.

The color of the frog finally shifted one last time and settled on an iridescence blue, like an opal, and closed its eyes as it shimmered in the water.

"A very literal name," Phobos mused, hand still burning.

What compelled him to wait until the creature was asleep before he slipped his hand away was the same thing that compelled him to pet the playful sea dragons; there was no mystery with them. What they offered was always true.

Free of the magic frog, he made his bed and settled down, ready to forget all his troubles, if only for a few hours.

The next day, Phobos awoke to a searing pain on his chest. Having awoken to worse, he stayed calm as he opened his eyes.

A glowing yellow orb was settled on his chest, eyes closed and head tucked in its little paws.

"How?" he questioned, looking at the basin by his bed. The heat of the night would have dried up any trail the magic frog left behind, so he could only guess at how the little creature made the journey with its broken legs.

It irritated his skin, an angry red, where the creature touched him. Phobos scooped the frog up, causing it to flinch and struggle. Only it calmed down once it opened its eyes and saw it was only him. In the morning light, he could see its eyes were jet black and its skin was a bright green under the magic glow.

"Your place is here," he said, knowing a magic creature would have some sense of understanding, as he placed it back in the basin after tossing the old water out the window and pouring clean water in.

It rushed to the metal edge, and it surprised Phobos as it leapt at him. Back legs healed.

It stuck to his bare chest, glowing yellow again, stinging him.

Phobos laughed, realizing what the glow meant. He had seen it twice yesterday.

"Having a feast of Elyon's spells? By all means, eat up. Maybe you'll break a bond or two."

While that would take dozens and dozens of moon opal frogs, he guessed, it was still amusing knowing the magic of the great queen Elyon was being eaten by a frog.

"Look at me, little leech," Phobos ordered as he scooped it in his hand from his chest.

Like he thought, the frog stopped, eyes looking up. They were naturally drawn to nest alongside magic, and Phobos had to be a perfect host. Full of magic, not able to kill it, and not able to die from its toxin.

"You have healed yourself and I am no banquet. Be on your way," he said, walking over and placing the frog on the window ledge. He was on the second floor, but he didn't doubt the creature's ability to scale down a wall.

He turned away, about to dress, when pain erupted in the center of his back. He blindly groped until he pulled the little vermin off.

"You blasted toad," Phobos growled, ready to chuck the damn thing out the window. The frog nuzzled the palm of his hand and this time Phobos felt no pain as the magic around the frog stopped. It looked at him and waited.

"Fine," he growled. "As long as you don't burn me, you can stay. My existence is pointless and confusing, why fight more insanity."

The frog croaked, satisfied.

There were a handful of animals that sought magical masters; cats, crows, frogs, dragons, and snakes were the most common. Moon opal frogs were never used, as they needed to feed directly from their magic masters to grow enough in magical prowess to be useful as a familiar, which killed the mage.

Seeing how this frog spend the entire night sucking magic right from the Light of Meridian, it did not surprise Phobos as it waited in the basin now, understanding it was welcomed to stay.

Phobos found it interesting the frog could now control its toxin excrement as the frog still didn't burn even after he was dressed. Having decided to return the frog to the nearby lake, he dressed in a short sleeve, light green tunic with black fitted pants and walking boots. He tightly braided his hair and tucked it into the back of his tunic.

Did it not burn because the frog was only full? Or did it absorb enough magic to begin a magical change? Technically, it was feeding off Elyon's magic. Its change would reflect her abilities, not his.

Phobos tucked the little frog to his chest, hidden away, and left his bedchamber. His guards were nowhere to be found, nor the three occupants of the other rooms. He avoided all he could as he headed to the nearest exit of the estate. A group of maids passed him, one of them deliberately walking close to him, brushing her hand along his arm, giving him a wink.

His skin crawled, disgust twisting his face, and she laughed, joined by her companions as they went on their way, a couple kissing their hands and blowing a breath across their palms at him.

"I'm telling you, he would be a great lay," the one that touched him loudly sighed, staring at him.

His bonds prevent him from saying 'mean' things, as Elyon put it, to the servants. She said they deserved respect.

Another giggled. "Aye, you got competition, now. They say Lady Wilhelmina fancies him."

The first sighed. "I guess he is her spoils. Maybe I can have the scraps when she's gone?"

"If she leaves anything, he's already nothing but scraps," they mocked.

A third one giggled. "She has a lot on her plate, then. I saw her last night with tall, dark, and handsome. He was having quite a feast." She sighed. "Oh, to be chosen by a goddess. I could have my pick of any man as well."

They laughed again and Phobos quicken his pace, as he could not stand another word.

Phobos finally found his way to the back courtyard and slipped from the estate, heading into the surrounding forest, retracing a boyhood haunt.