Author: I know, I know. It's been eight months since I last updated. What the hell have I been doing right? Well the truth is I had stopped writing because I was at a lost as of how to continue. The new season has inspired me again and after that lame ending I felt I needed to do something to make up for it. Sorry for the delay. Let me help you catch up.

Chapter One: A mysterious man named Deimos is building up an army to attack Kandrakar and destroy the Oracle. Meanwhile, Phobos has been freed from prison by the Mage who seeks his aid in return for his freedom. (That's where this chapter picks up.)

Chapter Two: Yor, a terrible dragon, is raining death on the countryside. He returns to his lair where he is greeted by a robed man who is his partner and a formidable wizard. They know Queen Elyon plans to send the guardians to stop them and are waiting in anticipation. On Earth, a mysterious young man has found the Silver Dragon.

Chapter Three: The girls are eating dinner when Will notices that young man looking at her. After Cornelia confronts him (and gets a splitting headache in the process) the man heads to the restroom. The girls decide to investigate him further, as guardians of course. Back in his headquarters, Deimos discovers not one but two spies in his fortress. He orders his guards to capture one and someone more capable to catch the other.

Chapter Four: Will and the girls transform and then head outside to spy on the young man. They are transported to another realm where Irma is cut off from the rest of the group. They find her inside a large building as well as a strange statue with a unique writing. Try as they might, they cannot find a way out of this dimension until Will attempts to use the Heart to escape. A bright light blinds them and Will awakens in a garden all by herself. The young man is there waiting for her. His name is Soren and he had plans for Will.

And that's the gist of it, folks. Here is chapter five in the Deimos Saga.


Chapter Five

"Here we are." The Mage announced at the completion of the teleportation. Beside her stood Phobos who cradled the book close to his chest. The secrets in this book were the key to his freedom and possibly his return to power. If his plan, which he had been formulating since his release, proved successful then even his sister would be hard-pressed to ignore him. That was the part of the confinement he hated the most. It was the insult of being forgotten. To be cast away as if he had never existed. Nobody in Meridian even spoke of Phobos anymore. The once mighty ruler was now a memory in the hearts of his former subjects. How it pained him to think that he would forever rot in that dungeon to the end of his days while his kingdom-his kingdom!-was governed by a bratty little girl who a few short months ago didn't even know of her heritage.

Wouldn't she be surprised when Phobos returned stronger than ever!

But he must be cautious. Phobos had learned from his past mistakes. He had underestimated the Guardians of the Veil and before he can even consider taking on the queen he would have to contend with them first. The only problem was how? He was still a formidable opponent alone, but together the girls had the power to overcome him. Somehow he had to finish them off, to get them out of the way, and then he would challenge Queen Elyon for the throne. As strong as he was he was still vulnerable. The Mage, that enigmatic wench, was still his keeper. Should he make his move too soon she could easily place him back in that horrible cell and he would be back where he had started. Phobos still had not figured her true purpose for releasing him. By doing so she had committed a serious crime and would be punished should she be found out. Until he knew all the answers he must tread carefully.

"Something troubles you, Prince Phobos?" The Mage asked in that raspy voice of hers. "You seem distracted."

Phobos turned away for fear that his face would give too much away. The Mage had ways of reading people's thoughts just by looking at them. Whether it be magic or some unnatural gift, she was a woman of mysterious talents. "I'm just relieved to be out of that dungeon. It's been so long since my feet have touched something other than cold steel. Spend a few weeks inside one of your cells and see how welcoming the muddiest road will seem to you."

The beginnings of a smirk appeared on the corners of her mouth. "I see. Just don't get too accustomed to that ground just yet. The path we tread is so dangerous that you may very well prefer the confines of my dungeon."

"I've faced danger innumerous times before, Mage. Just remember that it was you who freed me and therefore you are in just as much trouble if we don't succeed as I am." He stepped back so that he could gaze into her face. Being nearly eight feet tall, the Mage was a mountain of a woman. Phobos did not like being looked down on. One of the reasons his former throne was so elevated was so he could look down on others and they would have to look up to him in reverence. How he wished he towered over her right now. "Just take me where I need to go and I will do the rest."

"As you wish." She raised her hand. "Come. We are nearly there."

Wherever "there" was, thought Phobos.

This place was not something Phobos had ever seen before, though he had on occasion heard the tales. It was a subterranean city, once renowned throughout ancient Metamoor for its works in the arts of craft and metals. A stocky people known as the kazan had ruled here over ten thousand years ago but vanished under mysterious circumstances. The treasures hidden within the ruins attracted fortune makers from all over the world though a handful had ever returned with anything of worth…or whole!

"I've heard of this place." Phobos said. "Though its true name is unpronounceable to my kind."

"In the common tongue it was known as Gruoch-kabal, ancient dwelling of the kazan. This kingdom was ancient when the humans of Metamoor were mere hunter-gatherers and I was but a servant to the Templar of Kandrakar." The Mage looked upon the ruined city with reverence. "It was magnificent in it's day. No dragon's hoard nor king's treasury could equal the material wealth inside this place. The tunnels stretched so far beneath the earth that it was said the kazan traveled from one part of the world to the next using an elaborate transit system. They brought with them riches from lands which were at the time so distant that humans had no name for them. They also developed trade with the far-flung nations of the world. In a way one could say the kazan had united Metamoor in this fashion."

"Fascinating." Phobos lied. He never liked history lessons. "Now if you can just point me to the gift shop I'd like to purchase some trinkets for my fellow inmates. Cedric always did fancy those snow globes."

"Sarcasm does not suit you, prince."

"I've picked up many bad habits in my dealings with the guardians."

"Really? Did you also learn not to look a gift horse in the mouth?"

"What's your point?"

"My point is that I am trying to help you. It would be prudent of you to show some appreciation."

"My dear Mage, you are simply using me to achieve your own goals. Normally I'd find that a very admirable trait, however as of now I am not the one in control and therefore am not all too comfortable with this arrangement. So if it's all the same to you I think I've earned the right to be a bit cynical especially around someone who's supposedly one of the 'good guys'." He used air quotes on those two words.

"Another trait you picked up from the guardians?" She asked.

"Ugh!" Phobos grew impatient. "Can we just get on with it?" When the Mage gave him a dangerous stare, the prince sighed and added, "Please?" That took a lot more out of him than he ever imagined it would.

"Very well."

The walk to the main gate turned out to be considerable. Phobos had to struggle not only to keep up with the Mage's long strides but to avoid falling on the jagged rocks that surrounded the outskirts of the city. He was unaccustomed to traversing such hostile terrain. Add to that his legs being confined to a cell for the past few months and the distance between him and his "benefactor" grew quite wide.

"Couldn't you have just teleported us inside?" He asked from far behind.

"There are magic wards in place to keep intruders from entering the city." She explained. "Had I even tried our molecules would have been split apart and we'd have been lucky to reappear as globs of meat."

"So you'd prefer we be shredded meat?" Phobos had cut his ankle at that moment.

"I'd prefer you'd keep quiet. We're almost there."

'Almost there' was ten minutes and once at the front gate the Mage had to wait for Phobos who arrived with so many tears in his cloak that his scratched and bloodied legs were apparent for all to see. Phobos glared at her. She did this on purpose, he thought. The least she could have done was bring them this close without having to navigate that obstacle course. The Mage smiled at him then, confirming that his suspicions may be right.

"Come." She said.

Phobos growled but came into step behind her. The gates to the city were long gone but that made the view of the outer city no less spectacular. All the buildings were carved from right out of the stone. Statues and streets and avenues; everything was so finely made that it blended seamlessly into the rock. The kazan were true masters of their craft. It's a pity they died out long ago, Phobos mused, for they could have proven a great asset in improving the defenses of his castle against those damned rebels.

"About those wards." Phobos began. "They only prevent teleportation?"

"They negate all magic save those the defenders allow. The kazan were very distrustful of the craft, but they did use some magic in the building of their city. They created golems from the rock to use as sentries and could turn the stone floor into quicksand. Without permission from the kazan themselves, any uninvited guests would find their magic worthless in times of battle."

Now I truly regret their passing. Phobos thought. The guardians never would have stood a chance.

They had reached the entrance to the inner city. It turned out to lead into the earth itself. The Mage stopped at a fork in the hallway seemingly to get her bearings.

"Are you lost?" Phobos asked rather annoyed.

"It has been many ages since I walked these halls. Give me a moment."

"Fine. In the meantime I will go sightseeing." Phobos turned away and walked down one path…right into a trap. Spears shot out from the walls, ceiling and floor creating a cobweb of death that prevented further passage. Only his quick reflexes had saved his life. Phobos barely had time to jump back before the spears took a tuff of his hair clean off. He fell to his backside but never let go of the book. Gasping, he looked behind himself to find the Mage laughing.

"Ah, yes. Now I remember." She pointed to the now blocked path. "That leads to the armory. The kazan never wanted anyone getting near there. That means the place we're searching for is this way." She bit back a chuckle as she began to walk in the opposite direction. "Thanks for reminding me, dear prince."

"My pleasure." He said though did not mean a word of it. Dusting himself off, Phobos took one more look at the trap before getting up and following the Mage. That could have been unpleasant.

They traveled for many more minutes passing numerous mess halls, conference rooms, kitchens, living quarters, and staff rooms before winding their way down a staircase. The torches lit up at their approach. This process continued for a while until finally they had reached the bottom.

"Now what?" Phobos asked as they were now facing a pitch-black hallway.

"Not afraid of the dark, are you?" The Mage teased.

"My dear, I created darkness."

"So you say." She took the lead.

Phobos followed her very closely for while his statement may have been boastful, he was still a human and therefore his eyes were not accustomed to such blackness. He kept the book against his chest both for protection and motivation. The Mage was just a vague image in front of him. "How much father?" He asked.

"Hard to say."

"What do you mean, 'hard to say'?"

"It has been a while."

"Well think, woman!" He spat. "I can't see an inch in front of my nose."

"I would think you, the creator of darkness, would feel right at home here."

"I am sick of your little quips. I have half a mind to turn around and go right back the way I came."

"To your prison?"

"To my throne. With this book I will have the power and knowledge to oust that little girl off her seat and reclaim my kingdom."

"And what makes you think you'll get that far?"

"Watch me!" Phobos turned around. He was hit with such force that he was thrown back. As his body hit the ground, Phobos felt the darkness overtake him. You tricked me! Damn you! You had this planned out from the start. The book! Where is the book?

"Are you satisfied?" The Mage asked.

Phobos felt her standing over him. "This is a one-way tunnel. Once you go through you cannot exit the way you came. Just thought you might like to learn the hard way."

"Bitch."

"Such language. And after I found your book for you." Something heavy thumped into Phobos' stomach, crushing the breath out of him. He coughed and fell over to his side. "Now let's go." The Mage brushed past him. Cursing beneath his breath, Phobos grabbed the book and began to walk.

A dim light illuminated their path. It turned out to be a large round opening that took them into a chamber so huge that the ceiling seemed to disappear. "Are we that far down?" Asked Phobos.

"Depends on your point of view." When the prince gave her a bewildered look she went on. "That staircase we used to come here took us through a loop that has turned us upside down." She looked up. "The ceiling is actually the bottom of the chamber and we are now standing on the top."

"Sorcery?"

"Gravity. The kazan were quite good at manipulating it." She said. "This chamber is what they used to travel to other parts of Metamoor. There are portals just like the one we entered all over the underground sphere."

"Are you saying we could travel to anywhere in the world inside this chamber?"

"That and beyond."

Phobos looked around. The vertigo was almost too much for him to handle. Never in his whole life had he felt so tiny and insignificant. Had this power been his he could have extended his reach out countless realms without having to worry about the Veil. Afterall, the Veil was a magical barrier that prevented crossing between worlds. The kazan did not use magic and as such were not subject to those rules.

He noticed the Mage walking up a flight of stairs. "Where are we going?"

"To the center. That is where our quarry lies."

"But it will take hours to traverse this place."

"Days actually." She looked over her shoulder. "Luckily we have other means of getting there."

He found out her meaning when they reached the top. A vast grid extended before them. The grid provided a path throughout the chamber but it was too deep to travel and far too wide to climb down. "So what now? We fly?"

"In a manner of speaking." The Mage approached a stone pedestal where she placed her hand on the top. A white box formed beneath her hand and called forth a metallic apparatus. It was some sort of carriage atop a large pole that fell into the darkness below. The carriage was set up for passengers that would sit in a circle around a smaller construct of the sphere. Apparently, this was how those passengers would control the trolley.

"Climb aboard." The Mage said. She and Phobos got in and sat down. The Mage pressed a small square at the very center of the mini-sphere and they were off.

It's just like flying, Phobos realized. They moved so fast that his white hair was kicked back. Despite their incredible speed, it was a very smooth transition. Phobos barely felt any movement. "Impressive." He said.

The Mage looked at him. "Quite a tour. Wouldn't you say?"

The prince edged forward in his seat. He smiled as he eyed the woman with a sinister gleam. "So," He started.

"So?" She returned.

"Why don't you tell me the real reason you are helping me?"

"Because you don't need to know and because I do not want to tell you."

"But we are partners in crime, my dear. And partners should never keep secrets from one another."

She scowled. "We are not partners. I told you that,"

"There were forces at work and you were too busy to deal with them, I know. But should I succeed you will be responsible for providing me with power that rivals that of my sister. Why would you do that?"

She shook her head. "That power you so crave is not easily obtained. One must earn it." She cocked her head to one side. "Have you ever earned anything before, Prince Phobos?"

"Royalty need not earn anything. It is given."

"No wonder Elyon defeated you." Now she leaned forward. "Great power is never given, my prince. It is earned. In order for you to wield this power, you must first gain the right."

"And how do I go about doing that?"

"It will test you and if you succeed you will be as powerful as your sister."

"And if I fail?"

"You die." She said. "It's as simple as that."

"Fair enough. But what do you get out of all this?"

"Time."

"Time for what?"

"To prepare."

"For what?"

"For things to come."

Phobos raised a brow. "You know something's about to happen, don't you?"

"I am the Mage. It is my duty to know."

"And why you need a member of the royal family."

"Yes. I figure you would be easier to convince than Queen Elyon."

"And why is that?"

"Because if she knew she would ruin everything."

"Conspiracy." Phobos relaxed. He extended his arms and laid back his head. "I think I may get to like you, Mage."

"Don't push it."

The trolley pulled to a stop before a domed structure. Prince and Mage got off and went inside. They were at the very heart of the sphere now. Within the dome they discovered several doors in a wide circle. A great fire burned in the epicenter. "Cozy." Phobos commented. "What is this?"

"In here, the kazan kept their greatest secrets. Behind each door lies a test. Past that test and untold power will be yours."

"I never did like tests."

"Somehow that explains a lot." The Mage approached the flame. "Here, Prince Phobos. The Fire will be your judge. Prove yourself worthy and it will reward you."

"Let me guess: fail and it punishes me, am I right?"

She ignored that comment. "Take a lock of you hair and throw it into the Fire. Then proclaim yourself and what it is you seek. The Fire will then open the door which contains the power."

"Let's get this over with." Phobos stood before the Fire and opened up the book. He flipped through the page until he found what he was looking for. The Mage had shown it to him back at her lair. "Here." He raised a finger to his head and with a sharp nail cut off a piece of his hair. He threw it into the Fire which then burst to life. "PROCLAIM THYSELF." Boomed a thunderous voice.

"I am Prince Phobos. Ruler of Meridian and future king of Metamoor. I seek the Blade of Chaos!"

The Fire bellowed, "PRINCE PHOBOS, SEEKER OF THE BLADE OF CHAOS, YOUR CHALLNGE AWAITS!" A small flame leaped out of the Fire and snaked its way over to a door on the far right. It ignited the door leaving nothing but a hole. "ENTER."

"Hmph. Seems like everyone is ordering me around these days." He began to walk toward the vacant doorway.

"Leave the book here." The Mage ordered.

He looked at her.

"It would be a shame to lose it in case you prove unsuccessful."

"I am supposed to go just as I am?"

"Do not worry. If you are triumphant than you will have no need of this book."

He looked at the book. It was the only thing that gave him comfort throughout this journey. Now he was supposed to just give it up?

"Prince Phobos." The Mage extended her hand. Phobos reluctantly handed her the book. He then composed himself as best he could knowing full well how ridiculous he must look in his tattered clothing.

"Don't suppose you'd wish me good luck?"

"As if." She smirked. "I too picked up bad habits from the guardians."

"Fine." Phobos entered the door.

Inside he found himself in a tunnel covered with roots, shrubbery and an assortment of crawly things. "Wonderful." He rasped. Phobos followed the tunnel, kicking and squishing anything out of spite, until he reached the end. It was a dark room but for a ring of fire around the corners. Phobos entered the ring and gasped when it encircled the room, trapping him inside. "What is this?"

"Enter." A voice said.

He turned to see a sword ensnared with vines at the far back. Only the hilt protruded from it's imprisonment and that, he concluded, must be the Blade of Chaos. "Was that you just now?" He asked. He suddenly berated himself for it. "Now I've lost my mind. I'm talking to a sword."

"Better to lose your mind than your soul."

The prince jumped back. "C…can it be?"

"I am the Blade of Chaos." The sword said.

Phobos was momentarily stunned at the absurdity of it all. He had heard of sentient swords only in legend or had read about them in books. To be suddenly confronted with one was quite rattling to his sensibilities. Such swords had been known to turn on their masters or to steal their very souls while under their service. Is that what the blade meant by its previous comment?

"Who stands before me?"

The prince collected his thoughts and his courage before speaking. "I am Prince Phobos of Meridian."

"Do you seek to wield my power?"

"Yes." He said without hesitation. "I do."

"Do you think yourself capable of being my master?"

"Yes!"

"Your arrogance may be your undoing."

Phobos bit his lip. This sword was suddenly beginning to sound like the Mage.

"It is time to test your fortitude. Step forward, Phobos of Meridian, and prepare to face the greatest challenge of your life."

"I am ready." Phobos said. He did step forward. The sword hilt looked withered after centuries of being hidden away in this tomb but the aura of power surrounding it was almost daunting to the prince. Its dark energy was incredible, insatiable. Phobos must have it!

"Give me your test." He said. "And I will prove myself worthy."

"As you wish."

Phobos reached out to grab the hilt. At first he felt nothing but the hardened surface of an ancient blade. Then his hand began to burn. Try as he might, he could not pull away. The pain was excruciating. He fought it at first but slowly his mouth creaked open and whimpers of agony escape. Those whimpers turned to cries which were then followed by screams. Prince Phobos was yelling at the top of his lungs. The fires around him grew to cover the walls. It was like a living inferno now. The heat stole the oxygen from his lungs and he found it hard to breathe.

The hilt of the sword changed. Roots reached out to grab his hand. They penetrated his flesh and crawled beneath his skin. Phobos' eyes were wide with terror. He tried to swat them but that only caused him more pain. The roots moved on into his body and the feeling of them worming around like parasites terrified him to no end. An eye appeared on the sword then. A vicious, yellow eye that seemed to take glee in his suffering.

Phobos could only scream as the test continued. His cries were only overshadowed by the blade's maniacal laughter.


The Mage had waited patiently for an hour. She began to wonder if Phobos had survived the ordeal though all the signs showed that he had not. The room he had entered was dark and silent. If only she knew his fate, then at least she could get some closure.

It wasn't for his well-being that worried him but rather the setback this would prove to her plans. With Phobos gone, she would have start from square one. Too bad, she thought. He could have been useful.

After waiting a little longer the woman grew impatient. It had been two hours now since Phobos had entered and she had no doubt he did not survive. She sighed. "Such a waste." With that, the Mage headed for the exit.

Then the Fire reacted. It burst into a brilliant flame before the voice spoke. "THE TEST IS COMPLETE! HE HAS FOUND WHAT HE SEEKS!"

"Impossible." The Mage turned to the door Phobos had gone through. Something was coming out. A smoldering form entered the domed room. The body was hissing and crackling from numerous burns and the scent had even the Mage covering her nose. "COME FORWARD, PRINCE PHOBOS. WIELDER OF THE BLADE OF CHAOS!"

"You…you did it!" The Mage exclaimed.

The burning flesh began to heal and soon a nude but very much revitalized man stood before her. Phobos had changed. He looked bigger and stronger, not to mention better toned. His hair was short now, cropped around his head and his left breast bore a mark. It flashed with raging heat; a sword through a demonic eye.

"Prince Phobos,"

"No." He said. His voice was deeper and more menacing. He looked up at the Mage. His eyes were no longer green but yellow. "It's King Phobos now for soon I will rule all of Metamoor. Then let the universe howl in despair for once I am through with this realm I will spread my hands to encompass all the kingdoms." He smiled. "Then, will I become…GOD."


Author: And so it continues…