Disclaimer; Gargoyles are the property of Walt Disney.

The Curse of Destiny


Destine Manor

A full day and nearly half a night had passed since that fateful evening, and she was still bound by Constantine's hideous spells. She had no way to escape from the nightmares, memories of her own folly and the dread of whatever doom approached her daughter and her kind. She had lost control of everything! She could not warn her daughter. She could not warn the clan. She was trapped!

Trapped!!

"Angela . . ." she sobbed. "Forgive me, daughter! Forgive me!!"

* * * * * * *

Castle Wyvern

Angela was restless. She'd been that way since her father's departure. Even her daytime sleep had been less peaceful than normal. Her father's words the other night had disturbed her. True, she was worried about him going off to face this dangerous destiny alone with no one but Hudson and his legendary parents at his side. But that wasn't what had her heart in the deepest turmoil at the moment.

"Um, Angela?" asked a voice, and Angela turned as Broadway approached her with a tray of food in hand. "You hungry?"

Angela sighed and turned back around to gaze into the fire. "No, Broadway," she replied with mild impatience. "I'm fine."

"Oh." Broadway eyed here a little in mild surprise before clearing his throat and moving to sit down beside her. He sat the tray of food on the lamp table beside him and turned to study Angela for a long moment.

"Is everything alright, beloved?" he asked after a few moments.

"I suppose," was Angela's reluctant reply.

"What's wrong, Angela?" he asked as he placed a hand over hers. "You've been like this ever since Goliath left."

Angela tensed at the mention of her father. "I'm just worried about him, Broadway," she said. "Wondering when and if he'll come back safely."

"Of course he will," Broadway said as he put a reassuring hand on his mate's shoulder. "I mean, this is Goliath we're talking about! He can do just about anything these days from what I've noticed. And he does it because he has too. Trust me, Goliath will make it back."

"But he's fighting a foe worse than any of the Unseelie put together, Broadway," Angela said worriedly. "And he was . . ."

"What?" Broadway prompted when she did not immediately continue.

"Oh, Broadway!" Angela cried and turned to him in despair for the first time that evening. "What if what father said is true! What if it was Demona who released Constantine!"

"But we already know it was," Broadway pointed out innocently. "Goliath was there. He and Hudson both saw her for themselves."

Angela turned away almost angrily. "But – But the legend says that Constantine's descendant would set him free! And it was Demona – my mother! – who did that very thing!"

"Yeah," said Broadway slowly.

"Broadway, think about this!" Angela cried desperately as she leaned against him. "If Demona truly is Constantine's descendant then – then I must be too!"

Broadway regarded her for a long moment. He didn't know what to say to help her. This was something that was out of his league. The parenting ideal was still so new to the clan. But somehow he felt that he understood how Angela felt. It wasn't so bad in his opinion to be descended of humans, but he had to admit the shock of being descended from a human like that . . .! He'd have been shamed by it, outcast.

"I do not wish to have anything to do with that – that fiend!" Angela growled angrily as she clenched her fists. "But I can't help wondering if his spell might have affected me in some way too if it hadn't affected my mother."

Broadway shook his head fiercely at that and pulled Angela into his arms. "Not a chance, Angela," he said. "Evil only attracts more evil and Demona was and still is evil, although for your sake she has been trying. But I don't think it was enough, Angela. I'm not sure anymore if anything we do or try will ever be enough for her. She has to change on her own, and maybe Constantine knew that."

Angela cringed. "But how could she even be DESCENDED of him!? I just don't understand!"

Broadway sighed. "Neither do I, love," he told her gently. "But, maybe it's not so important to know. I mean remember who your father is. Remember what his destiny is. You're a part of two worlds yeah, but you've got the best of the best to be your example." He looked at her and smiled. "Constantine could never claim you because you have such a tender heart, beloved. You're more your father than your mother, and I think that Tyrant person knew it when he took the Heart Stone."

Angela smiled and hugged him. "Thank you, Broadway," she said. "And maybe you're right. I have Goliath and the lineage of Odomus and Lady Dragon on my side. It overshadows anything that relates to Constantine in any shape or form." She frowned. "But it still distresses me."

"I understand," said Broadway as he stroked her hair. "Still, let's put that behind us for now." He turned and gestured to the tray of food. "Our food is getting cold."

Angela smiled and accepted the tray as Broadway passed it to her, but couldn't help but feel hallowed by all that she had learned. She had to speak to Demona. She had to understand why her mother had reverted to her old ways. Perhaps if she could understand that, she could save her mother from going deeper into that same hate and bloodlust that had so held her mind for so many centuries.

* * * * * * * * *

Emerald City/ Crystal Moon -

One Month Later

Goliath sighed contentedly as he emerged from a warm shower. The past month had been busy, but pleasant as well. He had successfully completed all his studies. All he awaited now was the final test.

As he dried off, he recalled everything that he had endured, everything that he had felt, touched and seen. He even recalled those that he had met. The most potent of which being the stranger in the woods. The past few days he had been on Goliath's mind a lot. There was something about him that stirred Goliath's curiosity, his interest. He felt as though he had seen the stranger somewhere before and deeply desired to know where. However, he had not seen the stranger since that day in the woods and he was filled with an odd sense of regret.

Sighing, Goliath dressed in a new garment his mother had made for him. It was a tunic made of thick, yet comfortable black leather that glistened with every color imaginable. It had a high collar, deep shoulder pads and a loincloth that seemed more like a robe, for it was thick and though made of velvet and covered his legs. The tunic itself was plated with pieces of leather to give him the look of one who wore dragon skins as clothing and he wore matching arm and leg guards, all of which had gold highlights. And right over his heart was the same symbol that he wore on the skin of his brow; a small golden sun, the Mark of the Guardians.

As he performed the task of grooming his long, thick hair – imagining Elisa's hands gently combing it with her delicate fingers – and brushed his teeth – another human trait he had picked up here simply out of necessity - he basked in the warm light of the sun as it gently poured in through a window. It helped to calm his shaky nerves, for he was constantly worrying lately. Worrying that he would not have learned what he needed to learn in time to face Constantine. Worrying that his clan was in danger. Worrying that he would fail.

It bothered him that he worried so much, but he found that he simply couldn't help it. Many lives were depending on him. A safe and peaceful future depended on him. If he failed, his kind would never be free from those who hated them. And the rest of the world would be eternally doomed, if not destroyed. Madoc and his Unseelie had once presented a similar fate, but this somehow seemed worse.

Still, Goliath was not about to let that happen. He would NOT fail his clan!

Goliath sighed as he exited his room and hurried to the dinning hall. It was nearly time for breakfast and afterwards, he would be traveling out to the woods for a time on his own to await the last test. His only clue to it was that it reflected that day in the clearing so many months ago. And with this test came the feeling of change. And he didn't like it.

As he walked into the living room, he caught the sound of his father's laughter coming from the dinning hall. He also heard the voice of his mother, sister, Titania and also Hudson. He smiled when he felt their happiness, but then frowned suddenly when he caught sight of something he had never really noticed before. It was a painting of a gargoyle. He had a very distinguished and his mother bore a striking resemblance to him. Still Goliath recognized the figure immediately.

"He is the one from the wood," he muttered quietly, wondering what circumstance had given this warrior the honor of being placed above the mantle of the fireplace.

"Pardon me, my son?" said Lady Dragon's voice, and Goliath turned to her.

"The painting of this warrior," said Goliath as he pointed at it, and she came to stand at his side. "I have seen him."

Lady Dragon looked at her son in surprise, and then turned to glance at the painting. "He is your grandfather," she told him softly, and Goliath looked at her in astonishment. "My father."

Goliath was silent a moment. "Where did he come from? His style of dress is unique."

Lady Dragon nodded. "He was born in Egypt. He was a part of a group called Dynasties by the Egyptians. Gargoyles with different or similar features were singled out. It was segregation on a grand scale and all for the pursuit of 'perfection'." She huffed. "Our ancestors were kept in palaces and temples while the rest were used as guards or slaves. We were Egypt's honor warriors, keepers of the heavens. We never knew other gargoyles existed until Jehoiachin returned to Egypt."

"Returned?" Goliath wondered.

Lady Dragon smiled. "Jehoiachin was a wanderer like my father. They met in their youth and shared many adventures together. He is directly descended from Reul, the Guardian of Atlantis. His efforts liberated all the clans. Some stayed in Egypt and formed new clans while others branched out into the world. Even to this day none of us really knows what made us stand out so much to the Egyptians. But the name 'Dynasty' is all but forgotten."

"Jehoiachin was a wanderer, a philosopher and thrill seeker," Odomus said. "Hezekiah was more a philosopher, a traveling teacher but also a great warrior. He was also a lover of great music and was one of the few descendants of the Guardian who had a voice strong enough and pure enough tae sing the fiercest beast to sleep."

Goliath stared at his father. Why would a warrior need that sort of gift? He felt a little embarrassed trying to imagine himself in Hezekiah's place. The others would think it a real joke.

"Puul lived in Germany and is known for his defeat of the Usurper, a crazy old sorcerer bent on taking over the country in its younger days," Odomus continued. "Ellann, my grandmother, was like the three of them in one. She was unmatched in swordplay, had the voice of an angel and was a wanderer in her own right. She is known for her defeat of the Greys many years before I was born."

"Are any of them still alive today?" Goliath asked hopefully.

Lady Dragon nodded. "Yes, except two; Ellana, your great grandmother and her father, your great, great grandfather, Puul. Both inherited immortality, but they chose not to take that path. They chose to grow old and die."

"They 'chose'?" Goliath repeated slowly, puzzled and intrigued by that statement. "Did they have that sort of mastery over life and death?"

Odomus nodded. "I do, too. And soon enough ye will too."

"I see," Goliath muttered, unnerved by the idea of living forever. "Are there any clans left in Egypt?"

"Some, but they are hidden," Lady Dragon replied.

"I see," said Goliath thoughtfully.

Odomus smiled and patted his son's shoulder. "Come along, lad," he said. "I think Cookie has finished with breakfast."

* * * * *

Destine Manor

Angela could feel the dark magic rising from her mother's home even before she'd reached it. Brooklyn hadn't exactly been too happy that she was coming here. But she had to. She had to talk to her mother and try to understand why her mother had done what she'd done. The only thing that made her hesitate was the dark magic. It was powerful.

Angela gasped when she landed on the balcony and looked inside. The room was aglow with hideous green light. A circle of fire danced in the center of the room with Demona sitting right in the middle. She was bound by something Angela couldn't identity at first, but when she got closer she noticed it was a collection of scrolls. She was pale and weak, very thing and there was a disturbing faraway look in her eyes.

"Mother!" Angela cried, recognizing the effects of a binding spell. "Hold on, mother!" She reached out to rip away the scrolls. "I'll have you out in a minute!"

Demona blearily looked up at the sound of the voice. With eyes half open and half closed, she watched as Angela ripped at the scrolls that held her and gasped when the effort started to take a toll on her daughter.

"Angela . . ." she breathed. She snapped her tail and struggled weakly against the binding scrolls. The moment she moved a terrible shock seized her. She snarled in pain and crumpled to the floor, pulling Angela with her.

Angela broke away with a gasp and stared in horror at her mother. "Stars! What manner of magic is this?"

Demona tried to snarl but it came out as a hoarse growl. "It is Constantine's power daughter," she gasped. "He is draining my life force until he has the heart stone again."

"The Heart Stone!" gasped Angela and hurried forward to finish ripping the scrolls apart and received a second shock for her efforts.

"Angela!" Demona cried, watching as Angela got to her feet again and returned to her chore. "Please, daughter! It's not worth it! You – You do not need to exert yourself on account of me!"

"Of course I do!" Angela snarled angrily. "You're my mother! I won't let him use you as his strength!"

Demona choked back a sob. "He already has!"

Angela snarled angrily and gave one last tremendous tug on Demona's binds. The scrolls gave way with a loud ~crack!~ and both Angela and Demona fell away from each other as the magic dispersed by Angela's will alone.

* * * * * *

The Black Realm

"Hmm!?"

Constantine's head snapped up in alarm. He'd felt something. Demona was free.

He couldn't feel her power bleeding into his aura. It didn't matter, really. He had the heart stone now, but for a moment he'd felt the presence of another warrior at Demona's side.

Tyrant looked over at him from their meal of stale bread and cold meat. "What is wrong, father?" he asked incredulously.

"Someone has freed Demona," he muttered snidely.

Tyrant snorted as he turned back to their meal. "Well, you no longer needed her, did you?" he asked unconcernedly.

"Only to witness my glory first hand," Constintien sneered suspiciously. "I was to have her watch her clan, her daughter, die at my feet whilst she remained my prisoner. But now . . ."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Constantine," sneered a voice to their left. They turned to see Thailog leisurely leaning against a tall pillar, idly investigating any impurities in his talons. "Demona is easily antagonized. Unlike Goliath who is absolutely calm with everything and incredibly difficult to dog into action, Demona is all too easy to torment." He looked wickedly over at his new partners. "We can play her like a harp if we plan things right, and her daughter might be the key."

Constantine considered this. "Possibly," he said as he looked out at the rising sun. "But free, she will be a dangerous opponent. That was part of my reasons for binding her. Free, she can warn the clan in Manhattan to prepare for us. And we cannot have that."

"Nevertheless," said Thailog unconcernedly as he walked over to them and stole a well cooked portion of pork. "This in and of itself is no more than a momentary setback. She can still be defeated, and the Manhattan Clan with her. Without them, Goliath will fall into despair and become easy prey."

Constantine grinned evilly. "Perhaps," he cackled happily. "We will keep that in mind when it comes time to wage our attack."

Thailog grinned and gulped a pint of ale.

* * * * * * *

Destine Manor

Demona groaned somewhat as Angela helped her sit on a couch in her room, wrapped in a warm blanket with a cup of tea in hand.

"Thank you, my daughter," she said softly, her eyes still filled with rage, fright and even utter humiliation.

Angela only shrugged. "Will you be alright?" she asked in concern.

Demona nodded numbly. "I will be – with time," she said as she looked up at the skylight. "It is nearly dawn. Tomorrow night may bring danger."

Angela cocked her head. "Constantine?"

Demona nodded curtly and sipped her tea. For a long moment, there was silence.

"Why did you free him, mother?" Angela finally asked. "Do you still hate humans that much? I had thought – isn't Andrea your friend?"

Demona's eyes narrowed with pain, but she looked away. "Yes, daughter. She is my friend."

"Then, why would you be willing to betray her?" Angela asked.

Demona found she couldn't answer.

"Mother, is it really true?" Angela asked. "Are you Constantine's descendant?"

Demona snarled. "Prophecies never lie, Angela. And – And I was the one who released him. No one else had gone there to do as I had."

"Then why, mother? Why? And how?"

Demona forced herself to look at Angela, but only for a moment. "The 'how' I do not exactly know, my child, except that Constantine could not resist to gloat. He says that the female gargoyle was HIS. But – But the why . . . I just wanted to protect you, daughter, from the human race – from HIM!"

Angela regarded her for a long moment, then sighed and shook her head. "Mother, I won't get into ~that~ argument with you again. I share my father's beliefs. I fight with him and for him, not against him. I want there to be peace between our two kinds, not hatred and not bloodshed. I do not want things the way you want them, and I do not see why and how you feel it needs to be that way."

Demona's frown deepened.

Angela sighed. "I will stay throughout the day to make sure you are all right," she said as she turned to head back to the attic. "But I will be needed at the castle tomorrow night. We need to be ready if Constantine manages to send forces to destroy us. And . . ." she paused as she looked at her mother. "And we could use your help."

Demona snorted. "They would not have me!" she spat.

"But we will need your help, mother," Angela said as she opened the door to the bedroom. "They must know that too, and it would be the perfect way to redeem yourself."

"Redeem myself?" Demona snarled as she rose to her feet, letting her cup of tea shatter on the floor. "Before them!? For what purpose? They have no power to judge me!"

Angela glared at her mother. "My father will," she told her mother evenly, and Demona stared at her in shock. "Besides, it'll be the perfect way for you to denounce any allegiance Constantine might feel you owe him. I've learned by now that you can't always choose your lineage, but you can choose your own destiny. Being descended of Constantine might actually be a good thing and not a curse."

Demona stared at Angela as though the child were mad. "Be a good thing!?" she cried. "How on Earth could you say that!?"

"I can say it because you can chose to follow your own path, Demona," Angela said. "You can turn away from a life of hatred and follow the path that my father leads; that of truth and peace. I have the blood of both good and evil flowing in my veins, but maybe that shouldn't be what makes me decide how to lead my life. I can be proud or discouraged, or I can simply accept it and move on. And I chose to move on. My strength comes from the Guardian and whatever goodness might still live inside Constantine – just as there is still goodness in you."

Demona sneered and turned away.

"I should go, mother," Angela said as she finally left the room. "But we can talk some more tomorrow night."

Demona looked up in surprise as the door closed and stared at it for a long time before looking at the sun as it started to rise over the horizon.

It was going to be a long day.

The End.