I apologize in advance if the first part confuses you; all will be clarified in time.

Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Mario or its franchise; it belongs to

Nintendo and their affiliates. I just am really grateful to its creators for giving

me such a wonderful game and media series to write about!

I also don't own anything related to Harry Potter, all that belongs to J.K. Rowling,

but thanks go to her as well because, using her wonderful work, I can expand this

story to make it more interesting :)

Chapter Fifty-One

"Is this all?"

So surly and impatient he sounded but Ludwig was ready to finish this process. He stood in the throne room with a sour look on his face, having just finished his latest task; Fawcet Fulsom had instructed him to lay out all the ingredients he'd gathered in a meticulous fashion. The things were grouped oddly and some things were lain out in different shapes or patterns, like a square for the red reeds and a diamond for the wild hefferin roots. Ludwig had half a mind, or more likely a fourth of one, to think that the short magician was making a fool out of him. Why else would he stand there and make sure the younger sorcerer had done everything down to a T? Surely the situation didn't call for that much precision, did it?

I've done a clone before, the navy-haired male thought, I don't even remember doing all this.

But that thought flew out of his brain and right through his ear after a few seconds.

Oh well. It's not like my memory's the best right now anyway, Ludwig dismissed. Probably the little witch causing that, I know she's gotta' be conspiring with the bastard in some way. Deceitful woman.

"This is a most fine job," Fawcet praised at last as he scrutinized the younger man's work.

Fawcet said, "Now you must pour a ring of salt around the pile."

Ludwig gazed at the slew of ingredients and called for one of his guards. He stared briefly at the short man, gauging his credibility.

Do I really need salt or is he just wasting my time, was the question on Ludwig's mind. He glanced over the magician's bald head, his thick spectacles, and his beady black eyes, then moved down to his dragging red robes. Fawcet had his hands tucked into his sleeves across his chest and was barely stifling his laughter. Ludwig narrowed his emerald eyes.

"Hurry," Fawcet urged, "Or the ingredients will lose their potency."

Ludwig still had his doubts.

Oh well, he reasoned, I've come this far, may as well see this through.

To the guard Ludwig said, "Go to the kitchens and have one of the hands bring me some salt. Lots of it."

"Yes, Majesty." The Koopa guard bowed, then headed through the double doors that led to the busy servants.

Ludwig was brought his salt and once he had it, he began doling out the grainy white element all around the pile as per his instructions. Nothing was heard but the soft sound of those tiny grains hitting the marble floor. The Koopa guards on duty looked on while Fawcet barely contained his excitement, opting to hide his mouth behind his robe sleeves as he chittered to himself.

"What now?" Ludwig asked, tossing aside the empty salt sack carelessly.

Irritably he pushed away a chunk of blue hair that had fallen in his face and resisted the urge to tap his foot impatiently. Fawcet skittered over towards him and rummaged in his robe pockets. First he pulled out the syringe full of red blood, then he procured a weathered piece of parchment.

"Hold this," Fawcet told the young ruler, handing him the paper.

Ludwig studied the scrawled Latin words while Fawcet distributed the contents of the syringe over the lot of the ingredients. Thick crimson stained the marble floor as well as the magician spurted the blood over everything. Once he was done, he stood at a point on the salt circle that was directly across from Ludwig, who'd finally looked up.

"What now?" He asked again, more tersely this time.

Fawcet said, "Speak the incantation."

Ludwig did. He held the crumpled paper up to his face and enunciated as clearly as he could, but he'd always been less-than-perfect with incantations. Fawcet had to correct him a few times, much to the self-proclaimed ruler's aggravation. Soon, though, some things began to happen: there was a plume of white smoke that appeared, for one. It appeared in the center of the pile of ingredients and rose like a mushroom, then spread out to cover the entire diameter of the salt circle. Ludwig faltered.

"Is that supposed to happen?" He asked suspiciously.

Fawcet nodded exuberantly and said, "Keep going! Don't stop now or everything will come undone!"

Ludwig continued in his chanting and the smoke cloud got bigger. It started covering the rest of the throne room in a matter of seconds. Ludwig coughed and stopped again.

"Why is-"

"Don't stop now!" Fawcet cut in, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Ludwig was starting to sweat because with the smoke came a spike in temperature. He continued, though he felt his skin prickle in the heat. Not even when his eyes begin to sting from the wisps of smoke getting into them did he halt in his speech. He read the entire incantation from start to finish and was feeling the makings of anger when the smoke didn't dissipate.

"What's going on?" he shouted.

He had to raise his voice because the white smoke was so thick and stifling that he couldn't see his hand in front of his face, let alone Fawcet. He didn't know if he'd been abandoned in the throne room or not.

He's tricked you, a voice sneered from within his mind. Ludwig didn't know when, but he'd started hearing voices. He never thought to question this.

He's tricked you,That voice spat again, He's sent you on a wild goose chase for ingredients you never needed, made you perform a fool's errand in setting up all the stuff 'just so', and now he's pulled an amateur magician stunt by smoking up the place and making a run for it!

Ludwig almost believed that but then he remembered one crucial detail: Fawcet had yet to be paid. He wouldn't leave without his money. Still, Ludwig was getting mad because of all the smoke clogging up his eyes and lungs and was about to shoot out some of his magic in the form of a mighty wind so as to clear the room when he heard a reply to his earlier inquiry.

"What's going on is the cloning process," Came Fawcet's enthusiastic voice.

"What's with all the smoke?" Ludwig then griped, wiping at his nose because it threatened to start running.

How embarrassing, Ludwig thought with another swirl of anger. How dare he embarrass me!

"It will pass soon!" The other magician promised, unknowingly allaying Ludwig's ire in the process.

Unbeknownst to Ludwig, several things were going on at that moment. The first was that Fawcet was pulling things from his robe and tossing them into a pile separate from the other ingredients, outside of the salt circle. His items were mostly organic and including things like nitrogen and water and carbon and iron. Very rapidly Fawcet moved, knowing he didn't have much time to empty his many pockets before the smoke spell would wear off.

It was true, he had sent Ludwig on a false errand and had him collect all those ingredients while Fawcet had already had them all along. Such deception was necessary, for while the Ludwig was under the impression he'd be making a clone of the Dark King, something else was being done right under his nose.

From the second pile of ingredients, more smoke began to rise. Except this plume of smoke was thin and glittery and blue. It only lasted a moment before fizzling out and becoming diluted against the stronger white smoke. Fawcet began to chant a whole other incantation and watched in glee and amazement as the words began to activate the ingredients below. From the quickly soldering ashes of the items, a tiny pale creature began to take form. Fawcet ogled the little thing as it grew arms and legs and a head before his very eyes. In fewer seconds than he thought, a slim naked child stood in front of him, blinking slowly as if testing out his new eyes.

"Wondrous," Fawful breathed in awe.

The little creature gazed around himself, disoriented and a bit bewildered but silent nonetheless.

"What's going on over there! I can't fucking see!"

Ludwig's roar was more bewildered than angry and belied how close he was to tearing something apart. He clawed at his eyes and trembled, whether in rage or fear he didn't know. He was blind. He couldn't see anything but darkness. This was his limit.

"Where are you?" He demanded as he stalked forward clumsily, "What did you do to me?!"

Fawcet got rid of the smoke in the room with just one word and then put his hand on the little creature's head. A hushed phrase he uttered, causing magic to cascade down from the crown of the child's head to the tips of his toes; an altering spell. Then he extended his hand towards the irate royal and lifted the hex he'd wordlessly placed on him out of desperation; Fawcet had thought he would run out of time doing what he needed to do and wanted a fail-safe.

With his sight renewed, Ludwig paused in his menacing stride towards where he thought he'd find Fawcet. His blind steps had actually taken him right up to the front doors of the palace. Ludwig glanced behind him and blinked as the last curls of white smoke vanished.

"What. The hell. Was that?" He gritted out.

Each short sentence was punctuated by a stride closer to the short magician until he was towering over the red-robed figure with clenched fists. Ludwig's hair had gotten a bit frizzy from where he'd been sweating along his forehead and temples. He glared down at Fawcet with red-rimmed emerald eyes. Fawcet gulped.

"It was just an effect of the, um, the process, it was." He explained. "It wouldn't do any long-term damage to you, it won't!"

As if to foist the attention off of himself and onto another, Fawcet gestured to the diminutive child standing bare in the throne room. The Koopas were still at their post and many of them grew confused. They were keen when it came to scents, and though this child appeared to be akin to the former Crown Prince of the Badlands in looks, his scent was almost exactly the same as...

"Your Majesty, if I may-"

"So that's it?" Ludwig asked, ignoring the unusually perceptive and forward Koopa.

Ludwig pushed his locks behind his ears sloppily and regarded the clone. The child looked to be the same age, height, and build as Bowser Junior, but there was a slight difference. Where little Junior's eyes were wide and innocuous, this child had more hooded, jade and gold ones. And while his hair was the same startling shade of red, it was shorter and more unruly than Junior's long, tangled mane. By the shoulders Ludwig gripped the child and raised him up, inspecting him more thoroughly. He didn't know it but Fawful was holding his breath.

"Why isn't it an infant?" Ludwig asked sharply. "It looks like it's about five or six."

"Uh, don't worry over the details." Fawcet answered evasively. "It's just a minor deviation from the normal result."

Ludwig continued to appraise the child and Fawcet wanted to bite his nails anxiously. He feared Ludwig would see something or say something, but after a moment his fears were banished. Ludwig just shrugged.

"So how do I transfer the subconscious to him?" He asked, dropping the small creature.

The clone was not as dexterous or agile as his host, and fell to the floor in a clumsy heap. The clone winced, but otherwise didn't react, opting to stay on the floor and remain quiet.

Fawcet came over to Ludwig and fished out another piece of paper, this one even more wrinkled than the last. He gave it to Ludwig and eyed the clone.

"Just place your hand on his head and say the words." Fawcet told him.

"That's it?" Ludwig again asked skeptically.

If it was this easy, why didn't I think of it? He could only wonder, briefly of course. His madness limited his attention span to that of a goldfish.

Ludwig put his palm against the clone's warm forehead and recited exactly what was on the paper. This incantation was shorter than the one he used when he'd tried to return the subconscious to the Dark King himself. No sooner had he said the words did he feel instantaneous results. It was enough to make his lids lower drowsily and his body sag in relief. He could feel every last remnant of the Dark King's desires, impulses, urges, beliefs, and primal instincts leave his mind for good. It was as if someone had taken a broom and done some spring cleaning in his psyche. The weight had never seemed so great until it was finally gone, leaving Ludwig feeling lighter than he had in ages. His mind felt clear and his body felt like it was finally uncoiling for the first time in months. He was nearly shaking from how good it felt to have that sinister presence gone from his head at last. Now, there was still the lingering essence of darkness coming from the power he'd usurped, the power that was still running through his veins, but that was nothing compared to the torture he'd endured under the influence of that overbearing presence.

A small whimper caught his attention; the clone was wearing a faint expression of discomfort and had made that soft, pitiful noise. He shied away from Ludwig's hand and the connection was lost. It didn't matter. The deed had been done.

Fawcet asked with a mad grin, "Feeling better?"

Ludwig turned to one of his guards and gestured him over. He had one thing on his mind and that was getting a bath. He was filthy, having neglected himself in favor of getting a solution to his malady. Now he desperately needed to get clean. While he walked, he called over his shoulder to his guard.

"Pay the man," He ordered, "And get that kid some clothes or something."

The hours seemed to be moving as sluggishly as I felt. They dragged on and on so it was impossible to tell how many days had passed so far. I was in and out of sleep. I felt like a vegetable, just laying in bed, staring at the wall until I dozed off again. Life was like one long dream. I couldn't tell when I was asleep and when I was awake. I couldn't remember eating anything, just drinking a bunch of water and taking that nasty medicine Peasley gave me. I kept seeing him. Sometimes with the red splotches on his body and sometimes without. Sometimes he'd be reading and sometimes he'd be floating above me, fists on his hips as he rode a giant white pillow. I was nearly sure that was a dream. I could only halfway guess that I was now awake because Peasley was near the bed, pouring me some more water.

"I don't want anymore." I told him.

My tongue felt like a sack of wet cement in my mouth and made talking kind of difficult. All my words came out sounding like I was swallowing cotton and molasses. Peasley clearly understood me somehow because he started shaking his head.

"You have to drink, Luigi." He told me. His voice sounded far away.

I didn't move so he started helping me sit up like he always did. I let myself be moved. My body was about as under my control as my fate was; I felt like a limp noodle. Whatever was in that medicine was screwing me up. I frowned at the water Peasley brought to my mouth.

"I've drunk so much already." I complained, then wondered aloud, "Why haven't I had to pee?"

"You're dehydrated."

"Still. Everybody's gotta' pee." I argued languidly. "You should know that, Pee-sley."

The prince gave me a funny look and set the water back down on the nightstand. I couldn't help but chuckle at the joke I suddenly found hilarious. Peasley's blonde brows jumped.

"On second thought," He murmured, "You should just get some more rest."

Lemmy had made himself scarce around the palace. He didn't come out too often from his room or from the various hiding places that he and Junior shared for fear of running into the scary Koopa guards or worse, his older brother. But this was a time where he was extraordinarily hungry and that won out over his timidity. From that arisen necessity did he find himself skulking towards the kitchen in search of a hot meal.

"Mistress," He called quietly in the bustling kitchen.

The seven-year-old felt small among the tall human servants. Everybody had a job to do and were still tense from being around the increasingly temperamental ruler. It was nearing dinner time and they knew how impatient Ludwig was, thus explained the rush and bust atmosphere.

Lemmy sighed and couldn't see the Mistress anywhere in sight. He then made up his mind to go and seek her out himself. He ambled about, squeezing his small self through gaps and avoiding sharp knives and utensils. He had a hard time, being so little. He had to keep dusting falling food scraps and flour off of his white t-shirt and silk pants. Every stain and spill showed brightly against the pure-colored fabric, dirtying him along his journey. Not only that, but he kept getting bumped aside by people's hips and legs, smacked in the head by swinging hands, and he even got his foot stepped on by a person's boot. That made the young boy tear up because, as he was wont to do, he wasn't wearing any shoes. By the time he did make it over to the Mistress, his white outfit was soiled, he was walking with a mild limp, and there was flour and some seasoning caked in his multi-colored wavy hair. He gazed up at the older woman who'd shown him both kindness and sternness in turn.

"Mistress!" He exclaimed with a happy grin.

She had helped make the kitchen out to be a place of refuge for the child. The short woman heard her name and glanced around for the owner of that innocent voice. When her vigilant brown eyes settled on Lemmy, she clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"Look at you!" She tutted chidingly. "You look like you've had a day with the pigs!"

Lemmy glanced at himself and his clothes and frowned sheepishly. He shrugged his slim shoulders.

In response he claimed weakly, "I was clean when I got in here, Mistress!"

"I bet!" She said, rolling her eyes and letting a soft smile flit across her mouth in the fraction of a second.

Lemmy told her, "I came to get something to eat. And I think I better get something for B-Jun because sometimes he said he was gonna' eat with me today and not his daddy."

The Mistress frowned at that, but gave it little thought. She was more concerned with the little boy that was trying and succeeding to get up onto the high counter. He moved like a practiced acrobat, but Mistress was having none of it. She took him by the hand and ushered him towards the side doors of the kitchen.

"Owaldo, two plates!" She called to another staff member, then added, "For the bambini!"

Lemmy smiled and waited for the meals to arrive. Mistress kept an eye on him, making sure he didn't get into any more trouble with errant pieces of food. He was already dirty enough. The woman gazed down at the child with a rare expression of fondness and wondered why, of all the ruler's siblings, he'd been left behind.

"Here you are," The man named Owaldo said as he handed the plates to Mistress.

She wiped her bony hands on her apron and took the small dishes, then gave them to Lemmy. If there was one thing she'd found to be true, it was that the child was unusually skilled at balancing things; two plate wouldn't be a problem for him.

"Thank you," Lemmy told her.

She shooed him out of the kitchen and said, "You can thank me by cleaning yourself up!"

When Daisy was eight years old she attended a summer camp. Not just any summer camp, mind you, it was one for aspiring magicians and sorcerers. At the time it was such a good idea, not only because it sort of peaked her interest, but mainly because it beat the alternative of spending her summer at her great-aunt's estate doing chores, taking lessons in courtly affairs and politics, and learning how to be a 'proper lady'. Daisy had spent three months at that camp and all she thought she learned was how to bend, not break, the rules. However, despite her earlier impression of it being a total waste of time, something she'd picked up on now came in handy fifteen years later and she was so glad she spent that summer in the mountains.

Earlier the girl noticed something funny. This was after her visit with Ludwig.

And I still have mixed feelings about those events, she thought to herself, I don't know if telling Ludwig and having him take the medallion was even worth doing. I thought it'd make Bowser mad but he doesn't even seem put out.

After Ludwig had left, his magician companion had lingered in the room a bit. The interesting thing was, when the man tried to leave, he couldn't. Some kind of way he'd worked around that.

Maybe he neutralized the blood or something? She thought weakly.

Whatever. That was of no concern to the girl; she wouldn't waste her time speculating when she'd come to more solid conclusions.

He had Bowser's blood in the vial, Daisy recounted from her place beside the wall. That's probably why he couldn't pass through the door.

The thing she'd picked up on in camp when she was eight was the exercise with setting up wards. She'd forgotten it until now because...well, she didn't know why she had the flashbulb memory but it just came to her when she saw the magician struggling to leave.

At camp she'd befriended a trouble-making boy named Eren and, together, they pranked the other kids in their group. She had to admit, she was a heavy eater back then, though she didn't have the weight to prove it, so when the trouble maker told her that the prank would involve them eating more than one helping for lunch, as per camp rules, she was down for whatever. The work was done mostly by the boy, all he needed Daisy to do was walk into the meal room and sit down at the table with him. All the plates were set up at the long wooden table already, so that made Eren's job a lot easier. He was advanced in magic and set a ward around the table. He'd told Daisy to pluck a hair from the twelve other campers and that had been a challenge in and of itself. Daisy had come through and Eren used those hairs in his procedure so that, when the kids came into the meal room and saw their food getting scarfed down mercilessly, they were helpless to do anything about it. The ward blocked them from getting two inches away from their plates. Needless to say, Daisy and Eren got put on KP for the rest of the summer but in her eyes, it was worth it.

I wonder what happened to Eren, Daisy thought, her light eyes waxing wistful for a second. Never mind. I need to focus.

Basically, the ward functioned on the use of DNA recognition, and she now knew that Ludwig's must operate in the same way, allowing only certain people to be affected by it. She realized that if she got the DNA of anyone other than her and Bowser, she'd be free to leave. She could escape!

I am getting out of here!

Daisy now let the smile broaden on her lips at her revelation. The expression was not lost on the older royal lounging on his stomach atop his bed. Bowser locked eyes with the princess and Daisy immediately started glaring at him. He only smirked.

Screw him, she thought with another small smile. I'm getting out of here. Not even he can stop me this time.

Now all she had to do was get that DNA, and she knew just where to get it from, too. Daisy glanced beside her at the sweet-faced child who was sitting cross-legged with his head in his hands.

"Hey," She greeted softly.

Junior looked up at her and said, "...Hello."

"When's the last time you had a haircut?"

A/N: Another cliffhanger, but this chapter is twice as long and I updated when I promised I would, for once! Yes! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I know I had some trouble writing the first part but oh well.

Tell me all about what you think so far in a review, I would really appreciate it! I was so happy to read them all yesterday. You guys and girls are a great bunch, I tell ya! Haha, let me stop.

We'll check back in with Luigi, Peasley, and Boo and see what their game plan is, and we'll see how Ludwig is faring now that the burden has been lifted. And of course we'll get back to Daisy and the Dark King and little Dark King, Jr.

Until next time!

~DymondGold~