"I was thinking," Odette said the next morning as she and Derek were on their way back to the village. "It's sad that neither one of us was surprised to find out that there's danger looming again. It's as if we've gotten used to it."

Derek smiled a little. "I just wonder what's left to harm us. We've pulled through every hardship, beaten every enemy, won every battle. What's left?"

Both of their smiles faded.

"Does it really matter?" Odette asked.

"No. Because we still have to fight it. Not only for our sakes, but for those people who lost an entire village. It's not about only us this time."

"I know."

"Here we are. Let's not talk about this outside of each other. Alarming the people will do no good."

Agreeing to this, Odette followed Derek into the heart of the burnt village. Already, new houses were being constructed and old houses were being repaired. It wouldn't be long before the village was new again and the tragedy would be behind them.

Time never stopped. And it made Odette think.

No tragedy and no joy on Earth could ever freeze time. To live in the moment was just a goal that no one could ever achieve. Time rolled on, past the celebrations and the dirges. And oh, how it changed things.

"It's running out for you," a voice whispered. "You don't have much of it left."

Odette froze. One moment, she was blinded. The next, she was having a vision.

It was of Derek, looking focused and enraged. His face glowed with perspiration. Tiny cuts covered his face, some of them bleeding, unleashing tiny red rivers flowing down his visage.

Something hit him, too fast to see, and Derek fell. Odette cupped a hand over her mouth in horror. Derek was immediately on his feet again, but his exhaustion was evident. He'd been fighting for a long time.

But that didn't stop him.

He still got up. Still lifted his sword.

Odette knew the look on his face. It was determination and love and anger and fear.

She knew he was fighting for her.

"Let her defend herself and see how well she does!" the voice taunted.

The shadowy figure that Derek had been fighting turned its attention to Odette, who had nowhere to run.

"No!" Derek roared as he rushed toward the figure. The shadow quickly turned around and, to Odette's horror, slew Derek before he could defend himself.

The shadow appeared behind her, holding her against her will as she struggled to reach Derek.

"This is your fault," it whispered. "Look at him. He was trying to protect you because you are too weak to protect yourself. Pathetic. He threw his life away for you."

Odette blinked and the vision was gone. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

"Princess, are you alright?" one of the guards asked, snapping Odette into reality.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said quickly.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. These are trying times for all of us."

"Thank you for your kindness, but I'm alright."

"Very well, your highness."

Both of them went about their work, but it was hard for Odette to concentrate with the voice still echoing in the back of her mind. It was a gnawing feeling and she couldn't ignore it.

XxX

Over the next few days, the village rose again, better than before, though many things were missing. A monument to those who had been killed was being erected in the center of the village.

Odette and Derek decided that they needed to shift focus from rebuilding the village to finding the ones responsible for its destruction.

The voice never subsided, and they were increasingly certain that it had something to do with the attack. The shadowy figures that haunted their dreams resembled the ones that had burnt the village down.

A void grew between them. Derek was too caught up in trying to protect Odette to tell her any of his thoughts or theories and Odette was too busy trying to ensure Derek that she would be fine on her own to talk to him about how she truly felt. It was to the point that they simply were not talking to each other, and the lack of communication – and the fear of it – was taking its toll.

"Maybe time away from here would be good for us," Odette suggested one night.

Derek looked at her with more hurt in his eyes than she'd ever seen. "Time away? Now?"

"Just long enough to get our thoughts straight. We've hardly spoken to each other since we started hearing the voice and it's because we're too afraid of what we might say. If we can get away from here for a while – because I think it's this place itself, being so near the village, that has us so tense."

"Suppose the village is attacked again while we're gone."

"Our being here wouldn't prevent it. In fact, our presence is more likely to provoke an attack than prevent one."

"Then what would be the point of getting away?"

"We wouldn't have to see the ruined village every time we look out the window. I'm not saying we should leave indefinitely and that we have to go to some far corner of the world. Just anywhere but here for a short while."

"My mother is visiting the King of Lincolnshire. We could go to her castle."

"That would be perfect. It's not far and we can return quickly, if necessary."

He nodded, though still unsure. "I'm sorry about all this."

She gently took his hand in hers. "It's not your fault."

"I feel like I failed you and those people. They were not protected. What if we were in the village that night? You know we never have many guards around us. We might have been killed too."

"I prefer not to think of it, though I have before. There is no way to tell what would have happened if we had been there, but I know that those thoughts won't help anything."

"I just hate to think that I could have lost you. I've been through that enough and with these dreams… whatever this is, it's threatening you."

"And it's threatening you. It knows how we feel about one another. And it knows how to drive us apart."

"But why us? Why is it so focused on us? It makes no sense."

"Maybe because we're the one thing between it and what it wants."

Odette's answer took both of them by surprise. Derek stared at her for a moment, mulling it over, only to find that it made perfect sense.

Time and time again, they had stood between the people that wanted to take over the world and destroy it and the world itself.

And time and time it was their bond that brought them victory. Their drive came from an insurmountable love for one another.

"Then what does it really want?" Odette wondered aloud.

"It doesn't matter," Derek resolved. "We will stop it from reaching its goal. We have to."

Odette nodded in agreement.

They decided to leave for Uberta's castle the next day and return the afternoon of day after. In a way, it was an experiment to see if the shadow would follow them.

Derek left an extra regiment of guards to watch over the village in their absence.

XxX

When they arrived at Uberta's castle, Derek and Odette received a warm welcome. After settling in, Derek and Odette took to their own activities.

Derek wandered about the castle, going into rooms he had not seen in years. He thought about the basement. Even as a child, he had not ventured down there.

A crypt containing the past kings who had resided in the castle lay beneath the great hall. Among those kings was Derek's father.

Into that crypt he wandered, not entirely sure what he thought he would find there.

Derek didn't know his father, since King Paul passed away before Derek had a chance to remember him. Still, Derek felt a closeness to him, considering he looked just like him. Derek had seen portraits of his father that may as well have been mirrors.

It was cold in the crypt. Nothing had been touched in years, no one had disturbed the silence. Derek left footprints in the dust as he passed through, heading toward his father's tomb.

Upon finding it, Derek felt a weight drop on his shoulders.

"What would you do?" Derek asked.

All his life, he'd heard how great his father was, how noble, how brave, how strong, how smart.

So what would King Paul the Great do?

Derek leaned against a wall.

"What if I can't protect her?"

He waited, but no answer came to him. He smiled dryly. Of course not. Answers never came easily. Why should they start now?

"You think he can help you?" the voice hissed. "You think anyone can? You're weaker than I thought."

"What do you want?" Derek growled. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I have waited long enough."

"Waited long enough for what?"

"What do you think? The world is unsuspecting. You and Odette have weakened it. It's as good as mine."

"But Odette and I are the ones standing in your way, aren't we?"

"She was right about that. The moment you're gone is the moment when I take over."

"I won't let that happen."

"You don't have a choice."

Derek felt the presence leave him.

The fact that it spoke to him even while he was away from Swan Lake showed that the voice was after Odette and him specifically.

Derek turned to leave the crypt, but stopped for a moment before leaving his father's tomb. He inclined his head.

"Rest in peace, Father."

He felt a breeze in the windowless crypt and smiled.

Derek resurfaced and found Odette sitting quietly at a window in the room they would be staying in that night. She looked worried about something. He pulled up a chair and sat across from her.

"I hear the voice," he said quietly.

She nodded. "So did I."

"What did he say to you?"

"Only that he was coming, and very soon. And you?"

"The same. And that he's been waiting and he will take over the world because we weakened it."

"Weakened it?"

"I don't know what he meant."

Odette sighed. "What can we do?"

Derek's eyebrows furrowed and he lowered his head. "I don't know."

A moment of silence passed before Derek lifted his head again and looked at Odette with intensity and determination in his eyes.

"But we will stop it, and it will not win."

XxX

Odette and Derek returned to Swan Lake to find that it was, fortunately, untouched in their brief absence, though Rogers was sure that, had they stayed longer, an attack would have been imminent.

It was difficult to plan for something they knew nothing about, and Odette and Derek had no idea as to how they were going to stop the voice and whatever body – or bodies – came with it.

They were constantly watching for changes, no matter how subtle. The reconstructed village was almost as secure as the castle itself. New guards had been hired and patrols around the kingdom had been increased.

Meanwhile, Derek wondered if the voice had something to do with Swan Lake itself. As he thought about it, he realized that it was more than a coincidence that the Forbidden Arts had been hidden in the castle, enemies had infiltrated the castle trying to find the remnants of the Forbidden Arts. For that matter, why had the castle been abandoned in the first place?

He went to the library and pulled every book that had anything to do with the history of the kingdom. Some of it dated back to before it was a kingdom.

He dived into the pages, writing everything down that had even a vague connection to Swan Lake.

Then, he found it.

When it was built, the castle was the first of its kind in the country. The man who commissioned it to be built was a wealthy lord who had an interest in the arcane. Several sorcerers and witches and enchanters would visit Swan Lake, it being one of the few places that did not condemn such activities.

When the lord died, he left it to the sorcerers who loved it so much so that they would have a place in the world, a sanctuary of sorts.

Soon, however, the wizards and warlocks and the like took advantage of the lord's hospitality. They became an elite coven, then a rabble of corrupt mad men. They attacked the people who had wronged them before.

Those who were left began to despise witchcraft and spell casting attacked the castle. They drove away anyone with even a slight knowledge of magic.

Magic, from that point on, was outlawed and the castle was left to waste away.

Then, a specific type was formed and refined by top wizards and sorcerers. It was so powerful that even their developers could not control it. They grouped the various powers into three specific families: the Power to Change, the Power to Create, and the Power to Destroy. Collectively, they were known as the Forbidden Arts.

They were passed down through the generations. Those who could not handle them were weeded out. Over the years, one person had the ability to fully handle the Forbidden Arts. Rothbart.

He found the old castle and moved back into it.

Derek closed the book that held all this information and closed his eyes.

Before he knew it, he had dozed off.