**This Story Contains Tcest**
Pairings: Raphael/Donatello, Leonardo/Michelangelo, Raphael/Michelangelo, Michelangelo/Donatello, Leonardo/Donatello
Info: Alternate Universe, Royalty, Elemental Magic, Action/Adventure, Romance

~*~.~*~

Chapter Fifteen: The Trial of Earth

~*~.~*~

The sun was high in the sky long before Donatello felt comfortable enough to leave the seclusion of the waterfall cave. He and Raph dozed, curled around each other under the spray until Raph's skin was wrinkled and puffy. Don had never felt such an all-encompassing sense of peace, all his doubt and worry had washed away with the rush of water and flame and now their magic hummed, deep and steady as a heartbeat.

In the darkness of the cave, he lost track of time. They floated, subdued by the drumming water and the force of their release. He wanted it to last forever, thought if they could just stay there, like that, then nothing bad would happen ever again.

Eventually Raph started to shift, uncomfortable with the wet and the hard rock digging into his backside, and Don knew he couldn't be selfish. There were now three other souls in his life more important to him than his own, and from this moment until their last day, their happiness would be his highest priority. With a sigh he moved, pulling the prince of fire to his feet.

Before he could step away, Raph pulled him close and kissed him one more time, deeply, slow and sedate but with all the burning heat that Don had so quickly learned to crave. He smiled into the kiss, almost laughing, wondering how he would be able to get anything done ever again, knowing what he would be missing without Raphael's constant touch.

No one said a word when they re-joined Leo and Mikey, comfortably nestled in a smaller alcove back up the canyon. They didn't need to. Mikey's sleepy, knowing smile was enough as he lifted the blanket of his bed roll and pulled the water prince down next to him, snuggling up with his head nestled comfortably on Don's shoulder.

They slept through the heat of the day, the four of them waking almost in unison when the sun began to cast long shadows across the canyon floor.

Mikey put together a quick breakfast of dried meats and fruit while Raph got a fire going. There was a dream-like quality to it all and when they spoke it was with quiet, simple phrases, the silence mostly filled by longing looks and lingering touches. Raph gazed at Donatello over the flames with a self-satisfied smile on his face and Mikey was never more than a step away, leaning against the prince of water, quietly humming and sighing as his fingers drifted over Don's skin and shell between shared bites from his plate.

When the food was finished Leo brought Don a cup of jasmine tea. He reached to take it, but Leo refused to relinquish his hold on the cup until he was sure he had Don's full attention.

"How are you feeling?"

"He feels pretty good to me." Mikey giggled into Don's shoulder, his fingers sneaking under the hem of Don's tunic.

Don smiled indulgently. "I feel much better, thank you. I'm sorry for worrying you. I knew traversing this desert was going to be difficult for me, but... I never expected it to be quite that bad."

"We're just glad yer all right." Raph said, his voice low.

"Yes, however we're not out of danger yet." Leo added. "We can't know how much farther we need to go, or what obstacles may still lay in our path. Do you think you'll be able to move forward from here, Don?"

"It's not like I have much of a choice." Don said lightly, quickly continuing when Leo frowned in a concerned way. "I'll be fine. I have to be. We just need to keep going. That said, I would like to spend a little more time in the water before we leave."

"Of course. We need to refill our canteens anyway. We'll move on only when you're ready."

For a moment Leo looked like he would lean in and finally steal the kiss he had so sweetly asked for back in the forest, under that ancient oak, but then he blinked and seemed to think better of it, moving away to begin packing his things.

Had it truly only been a few days since that morning? Time was starting to feel like a whirlpool, dragging him under. He took a breath and slowly released it, trying to suppress the little bit of fear he could feel swelling in his chest. Leo was right, he wasn't out of danger yet. Soon they would leave this temporary oasis behind, and Don didn't really want to think about what might happen if they couldn't find a quick way out of this cursed desert.

Instead, he focused on the little bit of disappointment he felt that Leo hadn't capitalized on the opportunity to finally break past the invisible barrier still standing between them. Don was starting to realize just how much stock Leonardo put into his sense of honor. At the edge of the desert, he had asked the prince of air to wait, and it appeared that was exactly what he was going to do until Don gave him the permission he sought. The water prince smiled and hoped that chance would present itself sooner rather than later.

~*~.~*~

Once they had packed up their bedrolls and supplies, they went back to the waterfall cave where Donatello spent an hour soaking in as much moisture as he could. Raph watched him closely, almost as if he was afraid Don would lapse back into his catatonic state if he dared look away. Leonardo chose to be more productive, spending the time as they waited to practice a series of basic katas.

Mikey sat at the edge of the shallow pool, staring at the water as it cascaded down the planes and ridges of Don's body, trying to imagine what he had looked like the night before, here with Raph.

The earth prince wasn't jealous that Raphael had been the first to partake of the 'forbidden waters'. If anything, he was annoyed because he was supposed to be focused on the challenges waiting for him in his upcoming trial, and now all he could think about was what kind of noises Don made when he was filled to the brim and begging for more. He stared at where the water pooled beneath Don's collarbone, just behind the lip of his plastron, and at the way it traveled in twisting rivulets down the dips in his biceps...

Don was sitting with his head tilted back so the water could beat down on his face. Now he straightened and caught Mikey's eye. He smiled softly, but there was a slight unease in his gaze that Mikey saw almost immediately, a nervous quiver that stopped the smile before it could reach his irises. His eyes kept flicking in the direction of the cave mouth, like he was trying to ignore it... and failing miserably.

Michelangelo couldn't stand to see it. He crawled into the water, slid right up to where the water prince was seated, and kissed him, gentle and slow with no expectation, smiling when Don responded with a sigh.

Deepening the kiss, Mikey brought his hands up to gently stroke the back of his fingers down Don's cheeks, losing himself in the scent of brine and evergreen. This was the beginning of every day dream, every night dream, every wet dream he'd ever had... and so much more. The last few days felt like they had stepped out of reality the moment they had stepped out of the forest, like they had all fallen asleep, and Mikey wasn't sure if he ever wanted to wake up. A lifetime of responsibility and duty was waiting for him outside of these trials, kingship and fatherhood and all the fear and doubt that came with them. But, here in this cave with the people he loved most in all the world, he could pretend for just a moment that this was all there would ever be.

But that was all it could be… a moment. With one last sweep of his tongue, Mikey reluctantly leaned back. As much as he wanted to spend the rest of the night recreating what fire and water had wrought in this exact spot only hours before, he knew they couldn't waste any more time than they already had.

Unless... yeah, maybe there was time for one more thing.

"Will you do your magic trick?" Mikey asked, staring at Don with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

The contented smile left on Donatello's lips by Mikey's kiss faded a little, turning the corners down, forming an uneasy line across his face.

"Pleeeease...?" Mikey begged, batting his eyes like a small child asking for a sweet.

The water prince blinked in a resigned sort of way before nodding and pulling an orb of water to his hand. Mikey slid over to his side where he could see the window from over Don's shoulder as Leo and Raph quickly moved closer, settling down on his other side with eager anticipation shining in their eyes.

With a wall of rock at his back, Don didn't need to make a full circle. He waited until they were all touching, until the deeply satisfying connection of their magic pulsed through them. Then, slowly, he moved the window around until the water began to ripple and he stopped.

~*~.~*~

"No... no... please..."

The rippling image showed them a time when the water still ran out from the mouth of the cave, turning to flow north along the canyon floor. Bright light shone through the opening, indicating the sun was at its zenith, or somewhere close to it at least. The details of the surrounding rock were blurred, as if they were viewing the scene through fog or steam, but it was just clear enough to make out three figures at the edge of the pool crouched around the prone body of a fourth.

This unknown prince was unconscious, so still he might have already been dead. Thin and pale and limp, gaunt and hollowed, his skin flaking and cracked, like the slightest breeze was all it would take to turn him to dust and blow his remnants away into the ether.

Their faces were unfamiliar and their clothes very strange, wrapped robes tied with sashes that looked like they belonged to a time many, many years in the past. Two of them scooped water up in their cupped palms, letting it dribble down onto the one laid out between them, rubbing the liquid into his pores as they gently caressed his skin. The third knelt over their comatose companion, staring intently at his face. With trembling hands, he ran his fingers across the prince's slackened brow down to his sunken neck and back again.

There was almost no sound, only the trickle of the water, the buzzing of unseen insects, and mumbled words... soft, insistent... terrified...

"Please wake up..."

"Come back to us..."

"Don't do this... please..."

No movement, no indication or acknowledgment of the desperate entreaties. Only the powerless words that crumbled into quiet sobs...

"Stay with us... please... don't...

"This can't be the way it ends..."

"No... we need you..."

"We need you..."

"We need..."

~*~.~*~

The water rippled again, and the scene faded as quickly as it had appeared. It had lasted less than a minute but had managed to convey a weight that was practically suffocating. For a long, drawn-out moment none of them moved.

Michelangelo felt the wetness on his cheeks before he even realized he was crying. Those four unfamiliar princes may have only been specters from a long-forgotten past, but he could feel their pain as sharply as if they were still here in the cave. He didn't like that on some level he understood it, had begun to feel something like it during the days they'd spent crossing the desert, watching Don slowly dry out and become more and more lethargic with each passing second. That realization frightened him more than he cared to admit.

Guilt began to settle in the dark places of his mind. He wasn't sure what he had expected, maybe something more lighthearted, like the echo they had seen back at the first campsite. Something fun, something that showed them more of their father's before they became... their father's..., definitely not what the water had chosen to show them, that was not what he'd wanted...

But... he had asked for the echo, selfishly, flippantly, had seen the hesitation in Don's eyes and still encouraged it. This one was on him. For the first time Michelangelo was starting to realize that this wasn't a game... not any of it... and that this power the prince of water had might be more than just a simple parlor trick.

Finally, Raphael spoke, breaking the tension. "I didn't recognize any of their faces. Who were they?"

"Our ancestors," Leonardo responded simply. "Old ones from long ago. Perhaps from one of the very first trials."

Donatello was still holding the now empty window in front of him in his outstretched arms. Mikey looked at his face, leaned forward so he could better see Don's eyes. They were wide and glassy, like he was staring at something no one else could see.

"Donnie?" Mikey whispered, reaching up to gently squeeze Don's bicep. "Are you okay?"

The prince of water twitched, and the window splashed down over his knees. He looked down at Mikey's hand like he was surprised to find it there.

"Yeah..." Don croaked, clearing his throat and refusing to meet Mikey's gaze. "I'm fine. We should... we should get moving..."

He stood, shaking them off without another word. The three shared an uneasy glance before Raph and Leo followed with closed expressions on their faces and reluctantly Mikey did the same. What else could he do? The evening had started out so nicely, and now... well... now he couldn't help feeling like this was all his fault.

~*~.~*~

Hours later they continued to pace the moon as it followed its ancient path across the sky. Leonardo and Raphael were alert, focused on finding a way out of the canyon and out of the desert as quickly as possible, but Donatello had withdrawn so far into his own thoughts that Mikey couldn't tell if he was even aware of his surroundings anymore. Walking strides ahead of all of them, the water prince barely even looked up from the ground, he just... led their path through the dust with the determination of someone with either everything or nothing to lose, Mikey wasn't sure which, but every time he tried to get Don to stop and take a sip of water he was shaken off with a sharp jerk of his body.

This abrupt change in Don's mood was jarring and Mikey felt wholly responsible. He wanted to apologize, tried to think up a clever joke or anecdote that would bring Don's smile back to his face, but for maybe the first time in his life, nothing came to mind, so he settled for staying close to the water prince, ready to leap into action should Don need anything.

The endless stretch of the canyon as they walked was maddening, it just kept going on and on and on and on with no change to the path laid out before them. Mikey was starting to think that if they all managed to get out of this with their sanity intact it would be a miracle, when finally, the endless landscape of sheer granite walls and swirling sand changed.

Up ahead the canyon made a sharp turn to the right, blocking their view of what might lie beyond. Donatello was the first to reach the corner, and he disappeared around it without hesitation, ignoring Leo's call for him to wait as the air prince jogged to catch up.

Mikey's heart began to pound, and he quickened his steps. An irrational fear that Don would disappear forever if he let him out of his sight for even a second twisted deep in his chest. He almost broke into a run as he took the turn... and nearly slammed into Don and Leo on the other side.

There they stopped and stared.

Abruptly, their path opened wide into an area that might have been a mile or more across, the shimmering heat made illusions in the air, making it hard to tell the true dimensions of the space. A constant deluge of sand fell from the edges high above them like water, cascading into the center where it swirled and shifted around the bases of a dozen towering stone columns. The moon was high in the sky directly in front of them, and the light shining down on the cylindrical spires cast dark shadows over where the four of them had stopped on a high ledge that extended out into the open space. The movement of the sand was a dull roar of white noise in their ears.

Michelangelo audibly swallowed.

They barely had a chance to take in their surroundings before the grind of stone against stone began to echo around them. Inches off the edge of the ledge, an obsidian pillar rose from somewhere unseen below, dark as the night above them. Perched on its top was a chunk of topaz as large as a fist. It glowed with a warm amber light that illuminated the words carved into the pillars surface.

~.~ The Trial of Earth ~.~

He'd known it was coming, but standing there, staring at the gemstone that would lead him to either his salvation or his destruction, Mikey realized that he wasn't ready. He wasn't anywhere even close to ready.

Everything depended on this moment, his kingdom, his people, his family... his wife, so dutiful and understanding of her position, and the child that she now carried, the future prince that would one day stand in this very spot to face this same challenge...

What would happen to them if he failed? What would happen to him... if he failed...?

He took a step backward, a cold sweat breaking out along the base of his neck. Tremors born somewhere deep in his bones rattled his teeth and he wrapped his arms around his front in a futile attempt to control them.

"Never been any good with sand." He whispered more to himself than anyone else. "Tiny pieces... slip through my fingers..."

Leo turned on his heel and gripped Mikey's shoulder with one hand while the other gently cupped his cheek. "Michelangelo, look at me."

Leonardo's voice came to him as if from a great distance. It was muffled and hollow and it took a second before Mikey realized it sounded that way because of the rush of blood in his ears. With great effort he tore his eyes away from the glittering jewel and allowed that beloved hazel gaze to bring him gently back into his own body, allowed Leo's touch to ground him like nothing else could.

"We've done this once before, so we know what to expect now. Remember your training."

Mikey gave him a small smile, even though Leo's words hadn't made him feel any better, then he glanced at Raph, but all the prince of fire had to offer was a sharp, decisive nod. Mikey couldn't help but feel a little jealous, right now they had the freedom to feel confident about this, because they weren't the ones about to be tested.

He needed guidance, he needed strength, he needed to know how he was ever supposed to get through this, so he turned to the only one of them that had already lived it.

"Donnie?"

The prince of water hadn't said a single word since they had left the cave. Now he stood contemplating the sand and the columns with a far-off look in his eyes, like he had forgotten that the rest of them were even there. Mikey couldn't even be sure that Don had heard him, but something about his soft plea must have gotten through.

Donatello blinked as he met Mikey's frightened gaze, and just like that he was back from the far-off place inside his mind that he had retreated to. With a sympathetic smile he walked to where Michelangelo stood, took both of his hands in his own, and stared so deeply into his eyes that Mikey was sure Don could see all the way into his soul.

"I know... it's okay." Don began, rubbing soothing circles into the backs of Mikey's hands with his thumbs. "Half of this is skill, but the other half is instinct. You will know what to do. Trust in your magic, Mikey. Let the earth guide you. You can do this. I know you can."

Trust the magic. The prince of earth closed his eyes, and for a second was transported back to Sucellus and a day not that long ago. Bathed in light from the setting sun, on the eve of the trials, another had said those same words to him. His advisor, his confidant, his lifelong friend. That big old crocodile always knew exactly what to say when it mattered most.

Michelangelo took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and for the first time since they'd entered the desert, he really looked at Donatello. He looked and saw beyond the superficial, considered past the things he had only wanted to see, and finally saw the state that Don was truly in.

His pretty olive colored skin was pale and chalky, the corners of his eyes pulled tightly inward accentuating an exhaustion that went way beyond tiredness. His lips were dry and cracked, his cheeks gaunt and flaking. He looked like a husk of skin sloughed off during a molt. He looked like he was barely holding himself together.

Mikey blinked and the vision from the echo appeared before him again, only this time it was him that was crouched by the pool, him and Leo and Raph, hovering over Don's still form, stiff and lifeless, and all at once the truth of the situation hit him like a slap to the face.

The longer Donatello was forced to remain out here, the closer he was to that same fate. The prince of water was going to die in this desert if they didn't get out. Now.

With renewed purpose, Michelangelo felt his magic pulse, feeding not only his body, but also his mind. The others were watching him closely, but he only had eyes for the pillar.

Striding forward with clenched teeth, he laid his hand over the glowing topaz, and closed his eyes.

The jewel was warm to the touch and within seconds that radiant heat began to seep into his skin. In an instant every cell in his body filled with a rush of magic so intense his knees almost gave out. The earth was everywhere, all around him, solid and steady as it had ever been, but now there was more, it was deeper, bolstered by the other three elements, unwavering in their support. His fear from only a moment before completely forgotten, Mikey raised his arm, bringing the topaz up out of its notch, and opened his eyes.

He remembered Donatello's eyes and how the empty white void of them had unsettled him then, but now he understood. His perception of the world was so much... more. He didn't know how else to describe it. The milky veil of it filled his vision and he expected everything to be blurry and clouded, but... it wasn't. He had never seen so clearly in all his life.

A laugh bubbled up in his chest. The others moved closer, their shapes solidifying at the periphery. Mikey knew that their hopes of finally escaping from this desert now lay only with him, and he would do whatever it took to see them to safety.

He pushed, and the glowing jewel shot out toward the first cylindrical spire, striking it and bouncing away toward another. A clear note rang in the air as it made contact, filling the arena with a pure sound not unlike the resonant peal of a bell. The topaz continued to ricochet, leaving a thin amber trail in its wake, faster and faster until each column of stone was ringing with its own distinct musical sound.

It made three passes before Mikey finally recognized the tune. It was a song played by minstrel's in Sucellus for years uncounted, a jubilant score that memorialized the power of the element of earth and all it had done to bring prosperity to their lives. It was a song sung in celebration of Mikey's own royal family.

Filled with the wonder of it, the prince of earth leapt from the ledge and glided toward the closest spire. The sand beneath his feet carried him upward, lifting him higher, until he landed on the very top of the column. The stone was barely wide enough for both of his feet, but that made no difference, aiming for the next closest spire of stone, he flew through the air, bouncing along with a grin as wide as his face until he reached the very center.

With the last echoing notes ringing in his ears, the jewel came to a sudden stop right in front of him. It pulsed with waves of magic once, twice, three times, before it plummeted into the sand.

The tremors began a moment later, radiating from the center outward, causing ripples that flowed to the edges of the arena, crashed against the granite walls, and dissipated into clouds of dust. With a low rumble, the stone spires started to move, slowly spinning around each other in an ever-increasing circle. Mikey threw his arms out to keep his balance, grinning all the while, until the columns came to a stop, formed in a wide-open oval, with Mikey perched at one end, not far from the ledge where the others stood watching with bated breath.

Michelangelo bent his knees, eyes glued to the ground below.

All at once the earth exploded upward, and through the dusty haze, an ancient beast of terrifying proportions reared back. The sand sparkled as it fell away from its hulking form and Mikey's eyes widened at the sight of it.

Its long sinuous body seemed to shiver as it rose out of the earth, skittering its way to the surface using dozens of long tapered legs, like spikes jutting out from the edges of its body, hundreds in number, more than could be counted. The inky blackness of its carapace, segmented and polished, looked as if it was drinking in the moonlight, dulling the shine down to a fuzzy afterglow. An echoing, clacking chatter filled the air as the tail end of the beast breached the surface. Elongating away from the legs to a tapered point, the tail ended in a massive, mud colored rattle. The bulbous appendage, pointed skyward, shook with a deafening sound.

Exhaling a heavy breath, Mikey turned his attention to the front end, where the creature's long, armored neck gave way to a flat, rounded head, just as darkly black as the rest of it. A crown of thick, bony spikes protruded from the crest of its skull, framing compounded eyes that flickered with an iridescent shine. And as if that wasn't nightmare inducing enough, the mandibles of its mouth clicked menacingly, the spiked edges vibrating as it loudly chittered and finally freed itself from the last of the earth where it had been confined.

Michelangelo stared at the hunk of topaz, glowing from where it was seated at the very peak of the beast's head, perched between two long, thin, and jagged antennae. He knew he needed to somehow get up to the jewel, he knew he should have been terrified by the thought of it, ...but he wasn't.

The insectile creature lowered its head to look straight at Mikey, and he knew that anyone else would be peeing themselves with terror were they in his place, but for him there was only wonder, a boundless calm that made him feel both terribly small and unspeakably large. In the span of a breath, his fears and doubts melted away, leaving only the heavy weight of perspective in their wake.

His mastery of the earth could only be demonstrated by his mastery of this ancient creature, and he would need to delve deeply into the depths of his cleverness to tame it.

"Okay!" Mikey exclaimed with a laugh. "We're playing that game, huh? Well... catch me if ya' can, bug brain!"

With a whoop and a holler Michelangelo leapt from the column, twisting in midair before hitting the sand at an angle and riding the drift around the creature's left side. The spirit reared back in surprise, chittering loudly and quickly turning to follow, sending up a cloud of sand and grit as it plunged after him.

~*~.~*~

"Don't like bugs..."

The low grumble almost didn't carry over the din of Mikey beginning his contest with the beast.

Donatello turned to Raphael, standing just behind his shoulder and immediately noticed that he was a decidedly pale shade of his usual emerald. Don couldn't blame him, he had thought his own elemental spirit was terrifying in its scope, but this creature rising out of the sand was nothing short of fear given form. He shivered and reached down to take Raph's hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

The prince of fire shook himself and tore his gaze away from the spirit, huffing as his eyes darted left and right and back again.

"There." He finally said, pointing to his right. "Stairs. Let's get outta here."

Sure enough, there was a narrow stairway, carved into the very stone itself, twisting its way upward to the rim of the canyon far above. It wasn't safe, by any stretch of the imagination, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and right now all Don wanted was to get out of this hellish place as quickly as possible.

"Be careful, Donnie." Leonardo said as he led the way, taking it one step at a time. "There isn't much room to maneuver."

Raph fell into place behind Don, and they all kept one eye on the elemental beast as they climbed. Michelangelo was managing against it well enough, distracting it so that it wasn't paying any attention to them.

With one hand on the granite wall to his side to keep himself steady on the narrow climb, Don watched the prince of earth, impressed by how quick he was. His every move seemed to come from a natural grace that Don had only ever hoped to emulate. He knew that he himself was adequately talented with his own element, but that skill had only come from years of hard training, and there had been many failures along the way. Mikey seemed to harness control of his magic as easily as taking a breath. It was truly a sight to behold.

And honestly, Don welcomed the distraction. The consequences implied by the echo they had viewed in the waterfall cave had taken him deep into the darker places of his mind, and he didn't really want to acknowledge how quickly he had spiraled, sinking deeper and deeper into his own thoughts. That was something he could unpack later... if he survived this...

The chittering screeches of the elemental spirit were reaching a crescendo as it continuously failed to break through Michelangelo's defenses. The earth prince was back to leaping across the tops of the stone spires with a taunting laugh, striking the beast around its head and mandibles with his twirling nunchaku every time it slithered too close, expertly drawing the spirit away from where the three of them clung to the side of the cliff.

The creature, however, would not be so easily bested.

In a moment of frenzied, frustrated rage it went entirely taut, its bulbous tail pointing straight up to the sky. It lunged at Mikey, sharply clicking its mandibles and Don tensed as the earth prince backflipped off the spire and out of his line of sight.

The spirit roared and its tail began to shake, an ear-splitting rattle pierced the air, relentless and so low it vibrated the marrow in Don's bones. He grimaced against the sensation and for a second he couldn't breathe, then the beast plunged its entire back end back under the sand and everything went deathly silent.

The tremors started slow at first, little more than a rumble from under the ground, but soon the very rock beneath them was shaking. Don slammed his hand against the stone at his side to steady his balance as the heat of Raph's fingers gripped the bottom edge of his shell for purchase.

The sand began roiling up from deep below, like foam in a bubbling pot, higher and higher, until it was close to level with the stairs they stood on and steadily advancing. Time seemed to stop as Don realized they weren't going to make it to the top.

Leonardo spun and hooked his arm through Don's, holding him tightly enough to cut off his circulation. In the same moment, Raph grunted behind him, and the warm touch of his hands disappeared.

"Raph!" Don turned and flung out his arm, but his fingers closed around empty air. He only had a second to watch the prince of fire being swept away toward the center of the arena before the sand overcame both him and Leonardo and they were pulled out into the heaving chaos.

Terror gripped him and he tried to hold on to the prince of air, but in a blink, they were torn apart. He could hear screaming, realized it was the sound of his own voice, and only just managed to snap his eyes and mouth shut in the instant before he was dragged all the way down into the churning earth, and everything went black.

~*~.~*~

Michelangelo watched in horror and disbelief as Raphael, then Leonardo, and finally Donatello, all disappeared beneath the sand. One second, they were climbing the cliff and the next they were gone. He had been putting all his efforts into making sure the damned spirit kept its attention on him until the others could make it to safety, and in the span of a single breath...

Panic overcame him and an incoherent yell erupted from his lungs. He yanked at the stone column closest to where he stood and shattered it into pieces, then with a pained grunt he threw those pieces out in front of him, stacking them like crude stairs. Bursting into a sprint he ascended on each platform, up and up and up... and threw himself off the last one, into the air, straight toward the creature's head.

The spirit turned, with surprise or rage, Mikey didn't know. He didn't care. He landed right between its segmented eyes, grabbing the antennae with both hands to stop his forward motion. The beast bucked its head back, screeching loudly as Mikey spun around and slammed his hand down onto the topaz.

He had no idea what he was doing, or even why he was doing it, instinct was leading his actions and he was just along for the ride. He thought of the earth, of the power it contained, and his magic swelled within him. With a desperate snarl he channeled all of it into the stone and the creature squealed beneath him.

It thrashed helplessly for only a second, then it reared up and dove directly into the earth. Mikey held on tightly, closed his eyes against the grit scraping against every inch of his exposed skin and for long minutes there was only the grinding rush of sand and rock in his ears. Then, suddenly and without warning, they were free and falling through the open air.

Surprised, Mikey's eyes shot open, registering with confusion a massive underground cavern, a dozen times larger than the arena above, dark and foreboding and barely illuminated by a soft yellowish glow that seemed to come from everywhere all at once. For a second he was worried about how this fall was going to end, but the spirit at least seemed to have some sense of self-preservation.

In mid-air it turned, aiming for a slab of rock jutting at an angle out of the cavern floor. They hit it with a reverberating crash, sliding for a few feet, but almost immediately the creature regained its legs and scurried forward with momentum.

Michelangelo looked frantically around, but the commotion had kicked up a lot of dust, and even with his enhanced vision there wasn't much he could see. What he didn't see was any sign of Don, Leo or Raph. He prayed that was a good sign and swore under his breath to every single one of the elemental spirits that if anything happened to them...

He wasn't going to let anything happen to them.

Turning his focus back to the pulsating gemstone beneath his palm, he doubled the concentration of his magic, hoping beyond all hope that when the others had been pulled under the sand, they hadn't fallen into this empty expanse with nothing to catch them as they fell.

~*~.~*~

Donatello groaned, slowly coming back to consciousness face down in the dirt.

Everything hurt and for a second he couldn't remember where he was. He lifted up onto his hands and knees, spat out a cloud of grit, dry heaved through the rest, and coughed. He couldn't swallow, there wasn't a drop of spit left in his mouth for him to swallow with.

Don keened in distress, and it all came flooding back. The earth trial, the desert, the blasted heat, the suffocating dry. He sat back on his heels, tilting his head back to suck in air around his swollen tongue. He remembered the stairs and being swept away into the sand, remembered losing sight of Raph and Leo...

But now... it was dark and quiet, the air scratching down his throat was stale, stifling, unexpectedly cool, and all around him, pressing in at his sides, unyielding stone formed a tunnel that stretched away into a hollow nothingness.

'Am I dead?' He thought with a strange feeling of relief. Had the desert finally deigned to free him from this torment? It would be a mercy, since he had already accepted that he wasn't going to make it out of this place alive.

The waterfall cave had only offered a momentary reprieve. As soon as they had left it behind Don had begun to feel the dry air pulling at the water in his body again, fierce and unrelenting, evaporating what little moisture there was within him with each step he took until he felt as if he had never touched the water at all.

Now, the desert had pulled him down, sealed him within itself. This was to be his tomb of rock and dust, where his mummified remains would lay, preserved for all eternity.

He hoped the others wouldn't be too distraught... once he was gone...

A single, sharp pain flayed his heart open. It can't end like this. They'd only just found each other, they had so much lost time to catch up on, he needed them... and he would sooner strip his own skin off his bones than be the cause of their grief. Leo, Mikey... Raph...

With a determined wail through clenched teeth, Donatello found his feet, on shaking legs.

This deep underground it should have been pitch black, but it wasn't, not entirely. The walls glowed with a shimmering luminescence, something in the rock itself that shone with a power all its own. The strange light might have been a comfort if it had reached anywhere beyond his direct line of sight, but as he took his first tentative steps, he could see only a few feet ahead was illuminated, beyond that was the inky blackness he had expected. When he turned, he found the same behind him, as if the dark was creeping up on him, giving chase in slow motion as he forever remained one step out of its reach.

Don could only bring himself to inch forward, convinced that the earth would open up to swallow him again; but even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't have gone any faster. He had no sense of direction, every surface was variations on the same shade of brown, broken only by occasional striations of orange and cream.

Muffled quiet pressed against his ears, pulled at the frayed threads of his sanity. But there was hope in the vacuum. Occasionally a deeper, grinding rumble would sound, followed by a muffled shrieking chitter that indicated Michelangelo was somewhere close, still battling the beast, and Don clung to it like a lifeline.

The tunnel twisted and turned, until, eventually, a soft sound broke through the crushing silence. Quiet twittering, and clicks, and a soft gravelly rattle.

Coming round a bend, the tunnel opened slightly into something that could only loosely be called a room. Don could see breaks in the walls, blacker than night, where other tunnels branched off.

In the space hovered a half dozen Ondofay tossing small pebbles back and forth between each other. Their bodies, like tiny stacks of flattened stones held together by swirling dust, made gentle grinding noises that somehow managed to ease a bit of Don's steadily rising anxiety, even as a pang of longing clenched his heart. For the first time in days, he thought of his Sindifay friend and how long it had been since he last saw the sprite. He hoped they would be reunited... when this was all over.

His sudden appearance froze the tiny creatures in place, their beady black eyes fixed on him as the rocks they had been playing with clattered to the floor. The prince of water smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way and offered a small bow. They seemed confused, as if they had never seen a being not of their own kind before. Perhaps they hadn't.

Don raised his hands in supplication, his words cracking around the dust in his lungs. "Please, do you know the way out of here?"

At the sound of his voice, the fay startled, erupting with fast, agitated chirps and clicks. They circled around each other and darted away in a blink, disappearing down one of the other tunnels.

Exhausted and nauseous and more than a little lightheaded, Don sighed. It was too much to hope for, he supposed, that the unknown fay would help him like the Sindifay would have, if it was there.

Left with only the silence, he moved to the middle of the space, contemplating the direction he should take. He was beginning to wonder if it even mattered. Either the elemental spirits would allow him to die here, or they wouldn't. Maybe he should just sit down and wait for one of the others to come and find him...

A soft, single chirp drew his attention to the tunnel off his right side. One of the Ondofay hovered there, watching him intently. Don held his breath, hardly daring to hope, and the sprite twittered invitingly, moving out of sight once more, returning after only a second and twittering again.

The prince of water might have cried, if there was any liquid at all left in his body. With a trembling smile, he stepped toward the tunnel, and followed the fay into the dark.

~*~.~*~

The elemental spirit of earth was fighting him. Hard.

Michelangelo had both hands pressed firmly down on the topaz, had his feet hooked around its quivering antennae to keep his balance, was pouring every last ounce of his magic down into the beast, and still it resisted his control.

He could see the pinpoints of light inside of its mind that he needed to grab hold of, but every time he reached for them the creature bucked and jerked and almost threw him clear of its head.

He needed to reset, rethink, come at this from a different angle. He sat back to grip the antennae, to take a breath... and saw Raphael sprinting across the cavern floor. The prince of fire was covered from head to toe with a dusty white coating of silt and sand, but he was alive, and appeared to be unharmed.

Mikey almost yelled out to him, but then he saw what Raph was running toward... and his stomach dropped into his feet.

"No..." Mikey whispered, the word escaping his lungs as little more than a sigh.

Near a pitch-black opening in the cavern wall, Donatello was slumped on the ground, his head bent, chin to plastron... and he wasn't moving.

Leonardo was crouched beside him, shaking Don's shoulder, firmly tapping his face, but there was no response. The prince of water was as still as a corpse. Barely slowing, the fire prince slid in next to them, immediately taking Don's face into his hands so he could look into his eyes. Mikey could see Raph's mouth moving, but the words didn't carry up to where he was perched.

A vision of the echo flashed behind Mikey's eyes. The nightmare realized right in front of him... he hadn't been able to stop it... he felt like a part of his soul was going to tear away...

The terrifying scene below had not gone unnoticed by the spirit. With Michelangelo temporarily pulled out of its mind, it locked in on the others, chittering its intent as it darted for them at full speed.

Raph and Leo looked up with wide eyes, instantly moving in front of Don so they were shoulder to shoulder. It was enough to jolt Mikey out of the darkness...

... and just like that, he knew what to do.

Howling his denial, he seized one antenna in both his hands and swung out off one side of the monster's head. His weight pulled the entire front half of the creature sideways, changing its direction, turning it away and back toward the center of the cavern.

Continuing his swing all the way through he twisted back up to his perch, locked himself into place and slammed both of his hands down, completely covering the topaz.

The elemental spirit's life force crashed against his. He found a hole deep within its mind and slid right into it, opened himself wide to the magic of his element, closed his eyes, centered himself...

'Please,' He whispered to the spirit through their mental connection. 'Please, please, please... this needs to stop. Look at him! I just want him to be okay... if one of us has to die here, let it be me. Spare him. Let him live. Take me.'

The creature shuddered beneath him and came to an uneasy stop, its entire body vibrating as it seemed to consider Michelangelo's request. This wasn't something he was asking for lightly. He understood the gravity of what he was saying, and he meant every single word. Intent on proving it, he poured all that conviction deep into the creature's mind.

'My heir is on the way. I've done my duty... I've lived my life!' He could feel hot tears rolling down his face, but that only made him double-down, pressing further, farther, deeper. 'But Donnie...? You can't have him. He deserves to know Leo and Raph... to know them like I know them! He deserves everything that I've always taken for granted... and if I can give that to him... then I will! Gladly! So, if it's a sacrifice you want, then take me! Take me and end this you STUPID SON-OF-A-BITCH!'

Michelangelo screamed until his lungs began to burn. Thoughts of his element crystallized in his senses - the weight of it, the solid warmth, the life teeming from every living thing that sprung up from the soil, the plants and flowers, rocks and gemstones. The earth stabilized him, made him everything that he was and would ever be. Nothing could ever separate him from it. Even in death, he would be eternally linked to that foundation.

His magic pulsed with one last sharp thrust and the defensive wall the creature had in place to protect its own mind collapsed. The elemental spirit calmed, its rage dissipating like grains in an hourglass as it flattened its body and laid its head down on the hard stone floor of the cavern. Elation, amusement, an impression of deep approval and pride filled Mikey's mind...

...and immediately Michelangelo collapsed into heaving sobs, wretched and agonizing, that shook him all the way down to his core. He buried his face in his hands, curled into himself as close against the creature's head as he could get... so the others wouldn't worry... he didn't want them to see him like this.

The instant the spirit had given in, he had known it would not take his life in sacrifice, and an overwhelming rush of guilt threatened to consume him. He hadn't been lying, he would die for Donatello, would plunge the knife into his own chest with a smile on his face if need be... but the relief he felt in knowing the spirit had not deemed that necessary was almost too much.

He sat with that for a long moment, accepted the spirit's solid mass beneath him, and drew on its power to settle his emotions, to find the strength he needed to breathe again. The essence of the spirit was a comforting weight inside his mind. As it held him, secure and safe, an unfamiliar feeling began to seep into his soul. Surveying the wreckage of their still joined minds, Mikey found it... and he smiled. A strange kinship had blossomed between them, an understanding full of respect and camaraderie.

Still trembling, he sat up straighter, wiped the tears from his eyes... and all at once his body went stiff, his bones shook. A sharp intake of breath filled his lungs to the edge of bursting as a deep, resonant, powerful voice filled his mind and all his senses.

"Well done, Prince of Earth. You have proven your worth."

Michelangelo sighed, smiling down at the chunk of topaz cradled in his palms.

It was over. He'd done it.

The grinding sound of stone echoed through the cavern. In the center an obsidian pillar rose from the floor, the top of it glowing with three small dots of light, one white, one red, and one deep indigo.

The elemental spirit moved closer to the pillar and lowered its head. Mikey hopped down and placed the jewel into its notch next to the other three glowing gemstones. He blinked and the milky white film over his vision vanished. Suddenly, the heightened clarity was gone. Everything looked washed out and blurry and dull.

Shaking his head against the sensation, he broke into a run, crossing the space to the others as fast as his feet would carry him. They looked minuscule in the giant space, covered in grit and dust. Leo was waiting for him and pulled him into a tight hug as soon as he was within reach.

"Are you okay?" Mikey mumbled into the skin of Leo's neck. He clung to the prince of air, letting him take his weight. Exhausted was not a strong enough word for the deep heaviness now pulling at his limbs.

"Yes, Mikey," Leo replied, pressing his lips against the earth prince's forehead. "We're fine."

Wait... 'we're'...? Did that mean...? With a gasp he stepped away from Leo and looked over at Raph. The prince of fire was standing, supporting most of Don's weight with one of his arms slung over his shoulders, and Mikey almost burst into tears again.

Don's warm dark eyes were open, just a crack, and he was watching the earth prince with a weak smile on his face. He looked terrible, but he wasn't dead... not yet.

Mikey spun to address the elemental spirit waiting not far away. He pushed his left fist into his right palm and bowed low to the creature. Its iridescent, compounded eyes shimmered in the low light and its mandibles continued to slowly open and close, but the threat was gone. The spirit was waiting to help them.

"Come on, let's get him out of here." Mikey said, turning and reaching out toward Donatello. Together with Leo, they helped Don climb up onto the spirit's head, settling him securely into a depression on its carapace.

Raphael remained on the ground, all the color had drained from his face as he looked up at the towering magical insect and shook his head with a petulant frown. "No. Nuh-uh. No way. Ain't gonna happen."

"What're you gonna do, Raph? Climb out of here?" Mikey said impatiently, gesturing at the hole in the ceiling of the cavern made by the spirit as they fell, now trickling sand from high above like dusting sugar.

"You're outta yer damn mind if you think I'm gonna..."

"Raphael." Leonardo said quietly but clearly, tipping his chin at Donatello, barely conscious and tucked up against his side.

Raph locked his eyes on the prince of water and his mouth snapped shut. "Fuck." He said under his breath, quickly stepping forward to grab at Mikey's hand, letting the earth prince haul him up onto the creature's head.

Michelangelo gave him a sympathetic grin, then reached down to give the elemental spirit a quick pat on the head. "Okay buddy, what's the quickest way out of here?"

The creature immediately launched itself at the nearest wall, skittering straight up it. For a second, Mikey thought it was going to take them to the hole in the ceiling, but half way up it slipped into a thin crack in the stone that had been invisible before they were plunging into it.

Blackness engulfed them as they zipped through the earth and Michelangelo tried to savor the feeling, knowing he'd probably never get the chance to experience anything like this ever again in his life.

The trip lasted only seconds, then they were bursting out of the earth, back into the arena. The elemental spirit took them to the point where the narrow stairway ended at the top of the ridge, and when they had all clambered down it took one last look at the prince of earth and turned away, disappearing back beneath the dunes as quickly as it had appeared.

Raphael stumbled away to be sick over the edge.

Deciding the prince of fire probably needed a few minutes to himself, Mikey focused on Don. He reached forward... not fast enough... the water prince was already in free fall as he collapsed to the ground, rolling onto his shell with his arms flung wide. Mikey followed him down and gently took his hand.

Leonardo knelt at his opposite side, threading the fingers of Don's other hand through his own. "Come on, Donnie. You need to get up."

The water prince shook his head, rubbing it into the hot sand under his scalp and whined pathetically. "Just go... leave me... I can't... I can't..."

"Donnie... Donnie! Stop." Leo insisted, looking up at a point beyond the back of Don's head. "We made it. You just need to walk a little further."

Don frowned at Leo, then craned his neck to look upside-down behind him. He weakly squeezed Mikey's hand and the earth prince smiled at a line of trees, dark on the horizon not too far from where they were. There was no doubt they could reach it well before dawn.

"Oh... thank the spirits..." The prince of water sighed before closing his eyes and passing out again.

~*~.~*~ tmnt ~*~.~*~