…

Ikuto slammed the door to the royal infirmary open as he charged inside, looking around before spotting the pinkette on one of the cots.

He raced over, vaguely noticing Emiko and Amu's other friends standing nearby. Midori and Tsumugu were standing off in the corner, the former trying to comfort her distraught husband. The rest of the boys piled in with Ami, desperate to keep up with the blue haired prince.

Emiko was pressing a wet cloth against her friend's forehead as the royal healer attended to the sickly pale girl.

"How is she?" Ikuto demanded, looking over at his fiancée.

"Bad," replied Dia, looking terrified as she worriedly paced the floor. "We were just trying on dresses at the tailor's when Amu suddenly stopped and said that she didn't feel so well. Before any of us could even react, her face turned slightly green and she collapsed onto the ground."

"We rushed over as fast as possible desu," finished Su, her hands clasped together over her chest as she eyed her friend with concern. "As soon as we got here, we had Ami go get you guys desu."

Ikuto looked at the pinkette, not understanding why his heart was hammering; he cared for Amu and obviously didn't want her to die, but the thought of losing her actually had the normally emotionless prince terrified.

The healer cleared her throat. "She will be fine," she announced, making everyone sigh in relief. "It was a mild poisoning draught so it was not fatal, my guess in a small dose; you are very lucky you got here in time or else the poison would have entered her bloodstream. She will be very weak for the next few days so make sure she gets plenty of rest."

The woman handed Midori a small jar. "This is Chiema; the poison is most likely still lingering in her body, especially her mouth since that it where she was mostly injected, so there will be mild inflammation for a while. This powder should be swallowed in small doses each day, especially when the inflammation increases, until we can be reassured that the poison is completely out of her system."

The healer turned back to the gathered crowd. "There is nothing else I can possibly do, other than to advise you make sure that this doesn't happen again and to make sure she is guarded until the would-be murderer is caught." Her eyes hardened. "For I assure you, this was certainly not a coincidence or an accident. Someone attempted to take out the future queen."

Su glanced over at her friend quickly before following the healer out. Soon, the others left though very reluctantly and Ikuto absently told them it was alright if they wanted to stay in the castle for the night. Only Emiko and the Hinamori family remained with him.

Midori walked over to the bed, still holding the jar of Chiema. "Ikuto-kun, you are not leaving, are you?" Her future son-in-law did not respond and she sighed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "She will be alright; Amu is a strong girl." She leaned down and softly pressed her lips against Ikuto's temple for a brief moment before placing the jar on the nightstand and leading her husband and youngest daughter out.

Emiko watched as the prince eyed Amu carefully, his sapphire eyes filled with genuine concern as he tenderly moved a strand of her hair from her face; oh, how she desperately wanted them to just admit their undeniable love for each other.

Finally, after who knows how long, the princess quietly walked over and gently touched his ear, which she knew was a sensitive spot (a drunken Kukai was excellent for valuable information; luckily, he had sobered up when he realized what the situation was), and Ikuto jumped slightly before turning to her.

"What?" He demanded.

Emiko looked at him. "Ikuto, she will be alright; you have to report this to your parents, right? I have no doubt that you will want to personally find who did this; I promise I will watch over Amu, alright? Please go get some sleep; she will not be happy if she realizes that you didn't take care of yourself."

Ikuto heard her words and realized she was right; he turned back to the unconscious Amu and reached out to squeeze her hand, hesitating slightly before kissing her forehead and whispering, "Wake up soon, my sweet strawberry". He then rose from his chair and gave Emiko a grateful look before walking out of the room, determined to find his parents and then the idiot who tried to kill his fiancée.

Emiko took Ikuto's place in the chair, stroking Amu's hand gently. "You know, Amu, it really is astonishing that you entered this castle as a clueless stranger but ended up being so easily loved by everyone and changing them for the better."

A soft smile crossed the princess's features.

"You even managed to change Prince Ikuto into a warmer person; you don't really see it, but he has. Before you two met, he would have never even thought about going with the bachelor party idea. It's a slow progress, but he's getting there."

"And you changed me too, Amu. Before, I never even had a friend and now I'm feeling terrified because I don't want to lose you. Don't get me wrong, alright? I don't feel that way like Ikuto does, but I definitely care for you."

Emiko laughed.

"You told me all about what you did for El and Rima, and everyone else, and I think you're amazing; you unconsciously find people who are alone and transform them into their true selves in such a short time. We were strangers just a few weeks ago, weren't we?"

The crimson haired girl squeezed Amu's hand gently as she glanced out the glass stained window.

"Do you remember what I told you about not wanting you to have the same fate as me? I meant it, you know; even if you do not marry Ikuto, I still want you to marry for love, alright?"

Emiko smiled as she yawned, the moonlight shining into the room as she blew out the candles. Still holding onto her friend's hand, the princess leaned down and rested her head onto the mattress as the day's events caught up to her.

"Good night, Amu," she whispered, yawning as her eyes fluttered shut and sleep took over. "Sweet…dreams…"

…

She looked around, her eyes wide with horror as she surveyed the scene.

Corpses were strewn all around, and those still alive begged for Death to take them. The wails of young children, grown men and women, and every creature in the forest echoed through the air before the cawing from it drowned them out.

And then there was utter silence.

Not a peep as an eerie quietness flowed through the forest as thick as the fog in the air.

She swallowed hard, attempting to get rid of the vile taste in her mouth as her hand clasped over her breast. She had to do this; it was her destiny.

Slowly, she took a step forward before wistfully glancing over her shoulder; it was so tempting, to go back home and pretend that this never happened; she could run away to somewhere far away and live in peace.

And then she thought of him. His smile, his laugh, his kind words, his smooth actions, everything he had ever done…for her…to save her…

His still body laying in their antechamber made her heart clench with sorrow and anger.

Her head snapped back forward, her hair whipping the side of her face as a renewed expression of determination formed.

"Drakon," she whispered, the sinful name slipping off her tongue as she marched proudly into the dark forest. "One of us will die today."

A white light began to form around her, brightening the dark forest.

"Even if it takes thousands of years," said she, power radiating off of her. "I will destroy you and take vengeance for what you have done to me…to my friends…to my family…to everybody!"

She approached her destination, a dark castle in the middle of a clearing surrounded by dead plants and animals, and a fierce scowl covered her features as she held out her hand, a gleaming white sword appearing out of thin air as it flew over her head, ready to defend the lair of its master.

"One of us will die today," she repeated, raising her sword to the creature. The light around her brightened more and became almost blinding.

"AND IT SHALL NOT BE ME!"

…

It was terrifyingly cold.

That was his first thought as he regained his senses, his head throbbing with pain; what had hit him so hard that he felt like he had been run over by a plump princess's pumpkin carriage? Honestly, if his mother-in-law had found his cabinet of potions again…

No, she had died many years ago. Her spirit often visited his castle to remind him that not only was she dead, but her daughter was too…and it was entirely his fault.

He had never been happier than he had been when he finally exorcised her, her screams and wails consuming the dark night.

He suppose he should have been fortunate that it was only her, and not her daughter or else he doubted he would have been able to do such a thing.

Suddenly, his eyes shot open and he thrust his hand upwards, pushing away the debris and broken stone that covered his coffin as he also shoved that open. The moonlight shone dimly in the room that had once been his magnificent bedroom, but even that was too bright for the eyes that had seen nothing but darkness for thousands of years.

Groaning softly, Drakon sat up and looked around. His room looked exactly like it had nearly a hundred thousand years ago, minus the cobwebs and missing jewels.

"What…what happened?" He asked himself, climbing out of his coffin. "Why was I in a bloody coffin of all things?"

Just then, the doors creaked open and a small figure wobbled in, holding a pile of clean robes. An elderly woman with white hair and endless wrinkles, she looked as if she belonged in a grave.

"Who goes there?" Drakon barked, his voice harsh and smooth, despite not using it for years.

The woman screamed lightly, dropping the robes as she turned around and held up her hands in front of her. Her dark red eyes were wide with fear.

Drakon glared at her. "What are you doing in my antechambers? Are you the one who did all of this?"

The woman stared at him for several moments before recognition formed. "D-Drakon, is that really you?"

The wizard narrowed his eyes. "How do you know my name? And do not give me another question when you have failed to answer my own!"

The woman threw herself at his feet, bowing so low that her nose touched the ground and her old back cracked. "Master, it is I, Cassandra; surely you remember me?"

Drakon did remember; long ago, there had been a young, pretty maid who had been run out of town on the false assumption that she was a witch and she had ended up sobbing in his garden, where he had promised her sanctuary if she became his property.

"Cassandra, my dear, what happened to you?" Drakon asked. "Why do you look like the walking dead when I myself look the same as I did yesterday?"

"Yesterday you did not exist," sobbed Cassandra. "Master, I look like I do because it has been thousands of years since your demise at the hands of the witch; the only reason I am still alive is because of the time-slowing enchantment that you cast upon your castle."

"My…demise?" Drakon looked puzzled until it came back to him. "The witch, is she alive still?"

"No, she had died using up all her magic in the attempt to finish you off," replied Cassandra, still sobbing on the ground. "Her spell was strong but it could not destroy you, merely putting you in a long sleep; do you remember?"

Drakon looked at her and he was reminded of the young girl she had been when he had found her in his garden so long ago, so miserable and pathetic that it made even him sympathetic if only for a moment.

"Get up, my dear," he said softly, helping the elderly woman up. He tucked a strand of her white hair away from her face, remembering its once rich chocolate color. "You are as beautiful as I remember, Cass. Why don't we sit down and you tell me what has happened while I was away?"

Cassandra wiped her bleary eyes. "How can you call me beautiful when I look like I do now?"

Drakon thought of his late wife. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and you look just as lovely as you did that day I found you."

"Master, you are too kind," murmured Cassandra, blushing. "I will make us some tea and tell you everything." She reached for a long staff that was leaning against the wall and used it to hobble out of the room.

Drakon watched her go, feeling his throat swell. "When I look at you, my dear, I fear I am losing my wife twice." He closed his eyes and regained his composure before examining his dusty bedroom.

Most of his jewels were gone, most likely sold by Cassandra to keep up with her life. The cobwebs were nothing new; the numbers had just increased greatly. The walls were still gray and cold, though there was a crack in the ceiling that allowed the moonlight in.

He spotted his old mirror in the corner, a large veil draped over it. He strode across the room and yanked it away, swiping away the dust off the glass as his reflection stared back at him.

His long, blonde hair was placed in a tight ponytail; like it had been the day he died. His dark brown eyes were as cold as ever, though there was also a sense of tiredness in them that made him feel his age. His dark red robes were tattered and worn, mostly likely a snack for the several moths that had been in the room earlier. With his pale skin and goatee, he looked truly like a dark villain out of a child's nightmares.

Drakon felt his goatee, remembering how much it used to bother his sister and wife; their daughter would always complain that it tickled her whenever he hugged her. He shut his eyes, remembering their screams echo through the air as he raced back home only to arrive too late.

"Master," came Cassandra's soft voice, still as soothing as it had been eons ago. "You are crying."

She appeared in front of him, her eyes as sad as his as she pressed a soft handkerchief against the corners of his eyes. He grabbed her wrist gently, pressing the palm of her hand against his cheek. Her hand was wrinkled like her face, but her touch still comforted him.

"Cassandra, why did you stay?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You know what I have done."

"Ay, I do," agreed the woman. "You have done many horrible things and gotten so angry when you failed, often taking it out on me. But you were hurting and you still are; I do not think I will forgive you for everything you've ever done, but I owe you my life. You helped me when no one else did. You did not abandon me, even when you threatened to rape and kill me, and I will not abandon me."

"Thank you," whispered Drakon. "And I truly am sorry for what I have done to you. I should not have taken advantage of your weak state so long ago."

Cassandra smiled sadly. "You once said that I reminded you of your wife and your daughter, and your sister. You were scared that I would leave you like they had left you…just like Kikaloa was scared that you were abandoning him. Master, he is angry."

Drakon's eyes widened slightly. "Kikaloa, you said? He is alive as well? I would have thought he had died in the explosion with the witch."

The woman closed her eyes. "No, he went into a deep sleep and only recently woke; I have heard talk in the villages that he has been out killing people. He knows you are awake and if he does not, he will soon."

"It is crucial that we find him then," said Drakon, finally pulling away from his female companion. "If we do not stop him, it will be exactly like it was years ago. I cannot let that happen."

"What happened last time was not your fault, remember," interrupted Cassandra, walking over to the nightstand where two cups of tea were sitting and handing him one. He took it gratefully, taking a sip.

"However, it is curious; the spell the witch cast upon you…it was meant to keep you and him asleep and only awakened when your direct descendent and hers mate. If she died before giving birth to her and his unborn child and if your daughter died…how can you have a descendent? How can she have a descendant?"

Drakon stared at the wall. "My dear, I wish I could give you an answer. Perhaps there is a third party we are unaware of. Nevertheless, we must prepare for oncoming battle. My powers are not as strong as they had been and I cannot defeat Kikaloa on my own; though the witch, Fortuna, assumed I was the one wreaking havoc…"

"You were," interrupted Cassandra, raising an eyebrow at him.

He glared at her. "Yes, but I was not the main party at fault, now was I? No, that was all Kikaloa but everybody, mainly her, thought that he was merely my familiar. As I was saying though, despite what Fortuna thought, she was helping me defeat Kikaloa back then. My dark magic and her light magic combined together formed such a power that not even Kikaloa could handle it. We will have to find a powerful dark witch or wizard and an equally powerful light witch or wizard to join together to defeat him. The tricky thing is that they have to have each descended from either my bloodline or Fortuna's."

"They also have to have mated, either physically or by the soul," added Cassandra, looking skeptical. "Master, forgive me for doubting you, but there is no way you can possibly find and train them before Kikaloa regains all his strength. Especially when nearly everybody in the land believes that you are the one they should fear. You are an old man in a boy's body at this point."

"Ay, we will need help," agreed Drakon, pacing his dusty bedroom floor.

"We?" Cassandra repeated. "Master, in case you have forgotten, I am no longer the young seventeen-year-old girl you found in the garden. As I have told you, I am only alive thanks to your castle's enchantments. My body barely allows me to roam the castle, nevermind scour the lands for a man and woman we know nothing about."

Drakon chuckled, softly caressing her hair. "You are right, my dear, but in case you have forgotten…I was once called the most powerful wizard alive…along with other things, but I have never thought much about what my mother-in-law said about me."

Cassandra gave him an odd look as he took her hand, leading her to the mirror. She turned to the glass and gasped, her hands flying to her face in disbelief as her seventeen-year-old self stared right back at her.

Her chocolate brown hair was hanging down her back and her bright red eyes were as vibrant as they had been years ago, though they carried the same tiredness as Drakon's, and she was wearing the same purple dress that she had been when he had 'died'.

"Oh, Master," she exclaimed, tears springing to her eyes as she quickly spun around to meet his kind expression.

"Cass, we have been friends for years," said Drakon, taking her hand. "I am neither your Master, nor your lover anymore. We are simply…a lonely maiden and old wizard." He kissed the top of her head. "However, if you want to leave, I will understand. You are very beautiful and skillful, and no one will know who you are; this could be the fresh start you always wished for."

"Honestly," replied Cassandra, rolling her teary eyes. "I said it already, haven't I? I am not leaving you, Mast…Drakon. I will help you find the two you seek and take down Kikaloa, but…before we leave, there is something else you need to know."

Drakon stared at her expectantly. "Well, go on ahead then."

Cassandra closed her eyes, though she could only open her mouth before something roared in the distance. The room suddenly became very hot and the walls turned dark red.

Another roar came, and this one sounded much closer than the first one. Drakon wrapped his arm around Cassandra's waist and dragged her down to the ground, covering her with his body as the ceiling caved and hot flames were blown in by an angry looking beast. It was nothing like a dragon, like one might assume it was.

The dark sky camouflaged the creature but it was impossible to miss its hatred filled blue eyes. Kikaloa roared again, spewing more fire into the room.

Cassandra felt herself being dragged by the wizard as he ran out of the room, avoiding as much as falling stone as possible.

"We must leave," he shouted, taking a sharp turn as the nearby wall suddenly fell, revealing a hidden passageway. "This leads underground; we will be safe there for a while."

The brunette could only nod, putting all her trust into him as she followed him into the pitch black doorway, looking back to see the wall reform.

"Drakon, the thing I had been trying to tell you earlier," she started, turning forward once more. "Do you remember the old woman that we found in the forest one day, the one who sprouted some odd language before she died on the spot?"

Drakon nodded once as he conjured up a ball of fire in his hand for light.

"It took me years to do it, but I managed to translate it from a forgotten language that died out centuries before either of us was ever born. It's a prophecy, Drakon; a prophecy that talks about the 'fall of a dark creature once pure as the one who unknowingly defeated him'. I could only translate half of it though, but I have memorized it. I believe that the creature mentioned is Kikaloa."

"Did you gather any other key phrases from that?" Drakon asked, glancing back at her with no traces of amusement or skepticism. That was why she enjoyed being with him; he took her seriously, unlike her late family who had joined the angry mob that had chased her out of town. They had always made fun of her for being the youngest of eight and made sure she never had any friends for believing things like magic in the first place.

Cassandra beamed, pleased by his interest, but it quickly turned to a frown.

"Without the full translation, it doesn't make much sense," she replied, shaking her head in frustration. "I could only make out a few words before I realized I was an old woman."

"Well, what did you come up with?" Drakon questioned, making a sudden turn that was so abrupt that Cassandra nearly hit the wall.

She sighed. "There was something about a queen and a dark magic inside her injected by another, along with a parallel romance to a treasure."

"A treasure?"

Cassandra looked frustrated. "That is one of the lines that make no sense. I cannot remember the other translated lines, but there are four words that keep repeating over and over again."

"Oh, and what are they?" Drakon asked curiously, though a somber look on his face had formed. Clearly, he had a dreadful past with prophecies.

The young maiden squeezed his hand, replying just before the fire snuffed out and leaving them in utter darkness.

"Humpty Lock, Dumpty Key."

…

I don't own Shugo Chara.

Thanks for the reviews; I don't know if I ever said that to you guys. They mean a lot to me, alright?

Anyways, I thought that this chapter was going to take forever but I actually got through it pretty easily; in fact, I had to force myself to stop or else the chapter would be way longer than 3,000-4,000 words.

Nothing for me to say or risk giving you a feast of spoilers so…don't hesitate to tell me if you found any mistakes or what you thought of the chapter, or the story in general, or what you think (or should) happen next.