Note: This flashback scene is inspired by Sp1c3M0nst3r and their tumblr!


Chapter Fourteen

He Waits for Her

Blasted petty games, Phobos thought as he sat at his writing desk, working by candlelight. The thick wax was enchanted to burn longer than naturally allowed. As well as burn bright enough that he would not strain his eyes as the night grew longer. The strong light showed the prince's private library was a mess, covered in papers and books, all scattered and thrown about with little care. No staff dare enter to try to tidy up while he was in the middle of his task, as they didn't wish to spend the chilly night in the dungeon.

Around the room laid books, from advance battle strategies to lost magic items, for quick reference. They were brought up for easy access, as making multiple trips to the castle's enchanted library was too time consuming. Especially given the increase in problems from the rebels and the Guardians.

Something had changed with the rebel's leadership and tactics. They were more cunning. Before it they were scraping by with luck alone. Now they were actually outsmarting Cedric and… him.

Prince Phobos felt a flare of white hot anger at the thought. It had to be something else he was missing beyond just the addition of the Guardians. Maybe the Oracle had finally broken his oath and was intervening? Maybe the older generation of Guardians were all involved in training them? He had fought them numerous times after they collapsed within themselves, facing the remaining three, so they would have some reasonable insight when facing his troops.

Whatever it was, it was forcing him to send for more bodies from the lords of the lands. And that meant social bullshitting. Lots and lots of bullshitting.

Some of the longstanding ruling families, like the Moondalls, needed excessive sweet-talking on top of the normal flowery words. They were pompous fools that valued image over their own family ties, disowning for the pettiest reasons. And that was saying something, given the abysmal state of the prince's own bloodline.

What was that?

Phobos blinked at the flat, black rectangle that was now sitting on the edge of the wooden table. The edges of it were a bright aqua, and the black surface was incredibly reflective, like a dark mirror. Slowly, a single finger inched over the edge of the table's lip and touched the object. The delicate index finger pushed the object across the smooth surface, pushing past crumbled papers and open books. A small hand rose attached to an arm clad in fine, light blue silk robes. Blond hair, trapped with a gold circlet, rose as well, until two huge blue eyes peeked over.

"Charge it," a small voice demanded as the object reached him, pushing at the paper in front of him, causing his quill to scratch a thick black line across the painfully well chosen, artfully written, words.

The arm retreated just as slowly, as if only sudden, quick movements would give it away. The blond head lowered, slowly disappearing from view, eyes holding his until they were completely gone.

Phobos blinked again before his senses returned. His task now fully forgotten as he ducked to look under the table. The princess was crouched down at the other end, eyes looking owlishly at him.

"Elyon," he called, puzzled. Never experiencing… whatever this was before. "What is the meaning of this? It is late. You should be in bed," he chided in real earnest. If she did not have a stable sleep cycle, she grew whiny and often refused magic training, setting his plan back more.

His sister was still in her day attire, but her bare feet were visible at the hem of her dress.

"I can't sleep without my music," she confessed, lower part of her face buried in the groove of her knees. It seemed almost deliberate, the way her enormous eyes stayed fixed on him.

"I…" Phobos started, only he truly did not understand what she was referring to.

"Cedric charges a couple power banks for me when he goes to Earth. But he's been gone for a few days," she pointlessly explained.

Earth's technology meant nothing to him. It was just magic with extra, more time consuming, steps. Yet, he knew Cedric had a fondness for Earth, often saying he was missing his 'shows' and something about how he hated a 'cancellation bear'. When Phobos suggested just killing the bear, if it was a nuisance, the snake had just shook his head before excusing himself.

"He is dealing with an… issue," the prince said, not wanting to go into details of what was turning out to be another failed expedition to root out the rebels.

"So I need you to charge it," she explained, leaving him still puzzled.

"Elyon, I do not know how your… Earth talisman works," he stated, growing annoyed at her interruption.

"It's a phone."

The prince rubbed his temples. He just needed her gone. He had so much work to do. "And how do I 'charge' this 'phone'," he asked, humoring her for a second.

"I don't know."

"..."

"..."

They stared at each other for a long minute.

"Magic, maybe?" she offered, like it was his problem to solve now that it was before him.

"You have magic," he pointed out, ready to yell at her to leave as pressure was building between his eyes, a headache nearing.

"But Miranda said you have electric magic. Mine is like… light rays."

"And that matters why?"

She jumped up so suddenly that it caused him to instinctively copy the action, banging his head on the table. By the stars, he better win at the end of this all, because it took everything he had not to lose it, head now pounding.

Elyon, now on her feet, pitter-pattered to his side as he rubbed his head again. She reached him and grabbed the phone while saying, "Phones charge with electricity. So I thought maybe you could try!" She was pressing the object to him.

He took it, as she was shoving it in his face. It was colder on the reflective side. And the other was a flat aqua surface with white etched butterflies.

"Just wait until Cedric returns," he said, giving the item back to her. Her face fell as she took it, only to try to make him take it again.

"Please, can you just try?" she asked, voice pleading.

Near his wit's end, he couldn't stop himself from snapping. "Elyon! Enough. Go to bed," he ordered, eyes flashing in anger. Phobos had been careful not to snap at her or yell, so he cursed himself for slipping now, when she was the only hope he now had of hanging onto the kingdom. His kingdom.

Her eyes grew wide, not with fear, just hurt, as she clutched the object to her chest. Her lips quivered as her eyes dropped away from his face. "Can't you just try?" she asked, softer, pleading. "I can't sleep without some noise. It's just so quiet here… so different." She looked back at him and it surprised him to see the firm resolve in her, even as she looked near tears. "I'll leave you alone after, even if it doesn't work," she promised, holding out the item.

Phobos took it, reasoning that helping her would lead to her departure quicker than arguing with her. Yes, that was the only reason there was to help her.

"Very well," he said, causing her to smile.

Looking at the object in his hand, he leaked a bit of his magic in it. Electricity sparked across it and the black surface flickered with light for a second.

Elyon gasped, leaning on his shoulder in excitement and jumping, causing his body to sway from the pressure. "It's working! Do that again!"

Phobos repeated the action with a bit more energy, and this time the surface stayed lit. It had a rectangle outlined in red in the center with the number 'two' under it.

Elyon squeaked, jumping up again rapidly. "It's working," she repeated. "Just be careful. Don't fully charge it. Just stop at eighty-ish."

Understanding enough now, he leaked his magic in, watching the number increase. The color changed to yellow as the rectangle filled part way, and then green when it was near full.

"That's good! I don't want to risk, like, frying it or something!" she said as she snatched it without warning from his grip.

"Elyon! Manners!" he admonished her rude behavior. Only she smiled sheepishly at him.

"Sorry!" she said, as she threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Phobos! Goodnight!" She let him go and ran off, bare feet slapping on the stone floor as she headed to bed.

Phobos twitched as he looked back at his desk. Elyon had knocked over the ink bottle in her haste and half the papers he had spent all day on were now ruined. Including his ass-kissing letter to the Moondalls.

"Elyon!"


The Keeper was still gone the next day.

The Guardians, Hay-Lin and Irma, checked with him multiple times, seeing if she had returned to visit him. They grew more worried with every visit. When he asked if the Oracle could not find her, they grew agitated, saying it 'wasn't allowed'. Sounded about right with Himerish. Staying out of matters, always just watching, until he deemed it time. Whenever that might be.

Vathek and Julian remained his guards and a whole new set of servants were assigned to him. Elyon herself attended the most mundane task the first day, watching like a hawk. The new servants were jumpy but not hostile as they did their work.

Elyon gave him access only to the library and dining halls, saying she needed to deal with staffing issues so she had to limit his movements. She adjusted one of his bonds, the last one applied; he no longer had to stay away from the guardians.

There was a significance there, one that he didn't like.

Elyon seemed… different at times, smiling less. Fine lines around her eyes pulled tight. Caleb didn't accompany her. In fact, she traveled the castle alone more, without her guards or council. Like she was rooting out every problem herself.

Midday, there was another knock at his door. He expected the normal two guardians, so it surprised him to see a different set.

"What do you want?" he snapped, not wanting the blond near him. Vathek and Julian were ready to react as Phobos raised his voice. At least with them as guards, he wasn't bound to be 'nice'. He could express his displeasure at her presence. The last few days had been a jarring juxtaposition between moments of peace with the Keeper, and bitter reminders he was nothing more than a slave to the magic that held him, letting anyone use him as they saw fit. He was unnerved by the lingering feeling of… something towards the Water Guardian, Irma, as she was willing to turn her magic on the other to stop the blond.

Before him now, he planned on turning her away. Yet, the dark-skinned Fire Guardian held up a peaceful hand to him, drawing his attention. She didn't force a smile, just leveled a calm gaze at him.

"Hello, Prince Phobos," she greeted respectfully. "If you are interested, Cornelia has volunteered her healing abilities."

The taller blond refused to meet his eyes, arms folded, face a little red.

"Clearly," he said, looking over her discomfort. What right did she have to look like the wronged party? He had no interest in her company. No interest in exchanging even heated words. She was not worth his time even in his shackled existence.

The dark-haired woman elbowed the blond.

"Yes," the blond said, looking him in the eyes. "You don't have to… of course. I brought painkillers, too." She had a brightly colored bag on her shoulder and pulled out a small white bottle. Earth medication.

The Fire one spoke up again. "If you prefer, I can cauterize any wounds that are still bleeding."

Phobos debated. He was use to pain. That didn't mean he enjoyed being in it. And his broken ribs were very limiting with making quick movements. He should now attempt to keep himself well, as Achilles was a genuine chance at freedom, so he should be ready to escape at any chance. He still didn't know the frog's potential, as that morning it interested him to feel magic drain from his bonds through the circlet. It linked them, but pulling magic so freely across such space was an advance magic skill. It had to be an influence of Elyon's magic. While the frog was his familiar by blood oath, and now shared knowledge, it was physically maturing with the magic from the Light of Meridian, the magic of his bloodline.

It was almost amusing the frog had access to what he had craved his whole life, the magic of his birthright.

Deciding, he stepped back, letting them into the room.

The Fire one entered first, deep eyes scanning the room, before looking at the black circlet on his crown. It seemed she knew of its origins as well, as her lips twitched in a small, short-lived smile. Once Earth was in and the door closed, the blond gestured for him to sit on the couch.

"Elyon said you have a cut on your chest?" the blond asked, still looking uncomfortable. Ready to bolt at any second.

She had to know his bonds, as she was Elyon's closes confidant, so why this nervous act? He could do nothing to her other than some harsh words.

Phobos sat down, pulling the upper parts of his clothing off and letting it pool at his waist. As a royal, having servants present during various states of undress was commonplace, so he didn't think twice about revealing his wounds. The faster he was healed, the sooner they would leave.

The pair gasped, eyes glued to his battered skin.

The cut was still curled open, bruised around the puckered skin, blood clotted a deep, dark red. There was a small infection starting, some yellow pus oozing out. While that wasn't a concern of his, as it would eventually pass, it still looked unpleasant and was causing him to feel feverish and lightheaded at times. Also, there was heavy bruising on his chest from his broken ribs, making his entire chest a canvas of purple, blue, and red. Which magnified it in its unpleasant appearance against his otherwise smooth, pale skin. On the surface, his skin always knitted together perfectly. Below it, though, was another story.

"Are you able to heal broken ribs? They have healed wrong before. It is bothersome to break them to re-heal correctly," he inquired. Healers were a useful tool, and her abilities should be top-notched, granted by the Heart.

She nodded, slowly sitting down next to him, green light now around her hands. He repressed a flinch as her hand pressed to his chest, magic seeping into his aching skin. Unlike when the Keeper tried to share her magic, the bonds let her healing magic through.

"It will take me several minutes to heal this amount of damage and get rid of that infection from. Just… stay still," she explained, eyes wide, refusing to look at his face.

The Fire guardian sat across from him. Looking more calculating than bothered now that the shock had passed.

"Do you mind, if I ask a question?" Fire inquired, legs crossed.

In the back of his mind, he knew the Keeper would be displeased if he were overly rude to her companions. But he also didn't want to be prodded with questions.

"You can ask. There is no guarantee that I will answer," he said, trying to be diplomatic. He knew he had a growing fondness for the Keeper, as much as he hated to admit it. So behaving with some civility, even if they didn't earn it, would benefit in the long run.

She nodded and asked with no hesitation, "How are you immortal?"

Ah, right to what she wanted. No beating around the bush. He almost appreciated that. This one was different from the other four. Emotions didn't rule her as easy; she was looking at him like he was a book she just cracked open.

"Elyon asked that as well," Phobos pointed out, wondering if he was a topic discussed between them all.

"And you didn't answer," she stated, expression neutral, as she waited for him to respond.

"So you think I will answer you? Or do you plan to read my mind now that I am thinking of it?" he challenged, wondering at her boundaries.

She leaned forward, hand on her chin. "I could," she admitted, glasses flashing. "But knowing the answered is different from understanding it. And I want to understand."

That was an intriguing line of thought.

The Earth one interrupted before he could question her more, voice thick with a new emotion. "Um, Phobos? There is a lot of old damage. Ah, there are bones that really are healed completely wrong. And there is excessive damage to a lot of… organs. Definitely recent like… I can't heal this all at once, but over time…"

He cut her off, not wanting to prolong his time near her. While it was necessary to let her near to finish her task, it made his skin crawl, feeling her magic under his flesh and her fingers grazing his chest. "Unnecessary. As long as the current damage is fixed, that is enough."

She bit her lip, looking ready to argue, but just nodded.

"See," the Fire one spoke. "I don't understand why would you decline Cornelia healing you completely."

He was quiet, glancing to the side, before looking into her black eyes. "The Keeper is like you."

The two women stiffened at the mention of their missing leader.

"Stubborn," he clarified. "But you have more tact. I will answer, but it will only lead to more questions."

The Fire Guardian nodded.

"Weira made me immortal."

Whatever she expected was the answer, that wasn't it. She gasped, eyes wide as she sat back. The blond moved back as well, breaking her healing.

"What?" Fire asked, shocked. "Why?"

"As I said, it would just lead to more questions. Does the 'why' matter so much?"

She leaned towards him, hands gripping her knees. "I mean, yes, it does! Didn't you…?" she cut herself off, eyes finally looking away from him.

"Kill Weira?" he finished with a twisted, humorous smile. "No. But I was pleased to see her gone."

The blond was getting some of her bravo back. "You just said your mom made you immortal and you follow that up with your were glad she was killed?" she questioned, sounding completely disgusted.

"Are we done?" he asked. The wound was closed and his chest ached a little less, but he still felt lightheaded and unnaturally warm.

"Cornelia," the Fire one called, gently.

The blond huffed before sliding back over and starting her task again. The Fire Guardian was looking at him again, expression now calm. She glanced at the black circlet and changed her line of questioning.

"You said Will is… stubborn. Do you answer her questions too?"

Phobos narrowed his eyes. "I think our conversation is at its end."

She raised a brow at his defensive tone. "You will talk about Weira… but not Will?"

What was she playing at? Why did it feel like she was trying to peel him apart?

"That's okay," she said, changing the subject again. "Can I ask then, one last thing? Did you… ask Weira to make you immortal?"

The question threw him, and he answered far more honestly than he should have. "How could I? I was already dead."

She nodded deeply, like she had her own suspicions. The hands at his chest shook now as they worked.

"Thank-you," she said. "For answering and… for keeping Will company."

He frowned, not sure what to make of the encounter. "You are Taranee, correct?"

She nodded. "Taranee Cook. And that is Cornelia Hale."

He nodded in return, not really interested in the blond. She was here for one purpose. "I am sure that the nymph will return the Keeper soon."

"What do you mean 'nymph'?" she quizzed, now looking excited and curious, beads in her hair clicking as she leaned forward more.

"I would tell you to ask the Oracle, but he will tell you nothing but riddles. So just wait for her return. I'm sure she will explain. It… is not my place," he answered. It was bothersome, the bit of worry in his gut for her.

"Your place?" Cornelia snapped, standing up and glaring down. "Your place is nowhere near Will or between her and Matt!"

"So we are done here," he confirmed, pulling his robes on. His chest still ached, so something was still amiss, but it was whole at least, and his mind felt clear. He now wondered if the fever impaired his judgement when conversing with Taranee, but that was now done and nothing to fret over.

"Cornelia!" Taranee snapped back, standing up. "Chill!"

Cornelia gave a hollow laugh. "How can I 'chill'! This is just a game to him! He gets to ruin Will's image while Elyon's court and kingdom falls apart."

"What Will does isn't anyone's business! Not here, not on Earth, not on Kandrakar!" Taranee argued back, glasses flashing this time with fire magic.

"You heard Caleb! There are people who still," she started, but cut herself off, glancing at him and then at her. "You've seen what the staff has been doing! These things matter here. It's not like Earth."

Phobos interrupted. "Unless there is something here I should know, I believe you may take your leave," he ended, waving the blond to the door.

Cornelia balled her fists. "I'm not falling for your shit, Phobos. You don't give a damn about anyone but yourself."

"That is true. I have never said otherwise," he agreed, cheery.

She released a frustrated growl, pointing at him. "You hurt Elyon and I won't let you hurt Will! Keep her out of your mouth, your life, your bullshit! You should be rotting in jail with Cedric and Miranda, you snake!" she yelled and turned, rushing away.

Taranee stood, shocked, before turning to him.

"Um, well, have… a good day, Prince Phobos. Please, tell us if Will shows up," she said with earnest. He nodded at her and Taranee took her leave.


The third day the Keeper was missing, he could see the growing worry in the Guardians as the three buzzed around him like he had the answers.

Hay-Lin was, admittedly, pleasant company. She never imposed her ideas or opinions, just created a calm presence. Irma was… less calm. She was an annoyance, and she knew that. She was loud and boisterous, open about her feelings and emotions. At least there were no falsehoods with her. Taranee was interesting. She was incredibly smart. And that was… refreshing. Not having to speak down to someone. She was calculating, always thinking.

Phobos had sent them away multiple times, only for them to show up hours later with some other annoying excuse. It was clear it was a choice between either them or Elyon in the wake of the latest breech of his physical safety. While it was far from the worse, it had led to the worse fallout for his jailers. He doubted the Keeper would be pleased at her companions if they didn't take open threats to his well being seriously after how upset she was.

So, they congregated together, annoyingly, in his sitting room.

He didn't expect the Keeper to be so bothered by his attack. He knew he was numb to it all. It was unpleasant, and he would gladly skin the people alive that turned daggers to him, but it was commonplace both now and in his childhood. Only during his reign did he receive some peace, as his magic was uncontested with a missing Light.

Now, he needed time to think and plan, as he needed Achilles back to stay on task. Yet, he knew it was too soon to get the frog, as his sister was watching him like a hawk. Visiting him when he chased the other three away, personally bringing him meals at time.

He needed to wait until the Keeper returned, as she would draw attention from him. Actually, seeing her fondness for the frog, maybe he could ask her to just retrieve it? And just claim he wanted it as a pet?

So he needed to be… pleasant with the three guardians that were, again, in his sitting room. He had dealt with them before, years ago, on Earth. He could handle them again. At least they were more… palatable this time around.

He was sitting out on his balcony, reading, hearing them laugh in the inner room. At least they kept themselves entertained.

"Phobos!" Irma called from the sitting room.

Ah, spoke too soon.

He ignored her.

Being pleasant in his book meant no outward hostility. It didn't mean indulging in their frivolous wants. Because they had so many.

Just.

So.

Many.

"Phobos!" she called again, still in the other room.

Was she raised on the streets? Absolutely no manners.

He ignored her again, turning the page of his book of endangered griffin breeds and current conservation methods.

There was the sound of running as someone rushed through his room.

"Phobos!" she called again, annoyed. "Sheesh! Can you hear me out here?" She was at the open doors to his balcony, more sounds behind him as the others joined her.

He turned another page. "I will answer when you address me in a more respectable manner."

The other two snickered.

Irma made a show of standing in front of him and sweeping her arm in a mocking bow. "Oh, grand prince! I must humbly request an audience with my lord! Hark! Hear ye!"

He turned another page.

Irma let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Ugh, seriously. Fine. Phobos, do you have a second?"

He sat the book down and looked at her. "Better."

Taranee and Hay-Lin were in fits of laughter behind him as Irma sighed. She placed her hands on her hips as she asked, "Are you hungry?"

He twitched. That was what she wanted? All that for such a simple question? Ah, they will drive him mad at this rate.

"No," he stated, picking up his book.

She shrugged and walked away. As they left, he heard Hay-Lin call out, "I'm going to bring you something anyway, Prince Phobos!"

He sighed. The Keeper better return soon to collect her companions. They were clearly lost without her.

Phobos sat the book down again, this time looking off to the blue sky.

… She better return soon.