Forgotten Fates

Chapter Seven

Together Again Pt. 2

It was only a flash of green.

There was a roaring, burning fire swirling around them like Hell unleashed. All to the deep lime hue that had plagued the lands of Mewni like a terrible sickness. Wind cut through the air as sharply as a thousand knives, all while two men remained locked in a stalemate to subjugate the other with a torrent of magic. Marco could feel the weight it carried; the heat it produced. There was nothing else like it, and it felt so perfectly familiar.

Darkness was all that lay beyond their bubble.

Flashes of light would plunge them into new dimensions before ripping them back into the dark. Booming echoes heralded sights and sounds he could barely remember. A thousand worlds passed by in an instant, but they always returned to that familiar void. Endless nothing just outside of their little sphere of reality. The energy crackled loud against his ears, the ethereal blade running through his stomach tore at his innards. The void and vortex ripped away any air he tried to grasp. But Vartek had to be stopped. The pain was unbearable, but failure meant the loss of everything. Every new world they were bombarded with would fall if he slipped even a little.

Janna, Tom and Torriditty all faded into the inky darkness.

Luna bloomed a violent red, but not even her light could fight back the void.

Darc went peacefully, succumbing to the magic twisting around them.

Star faded out of his mind, the only thing left being his own survival.

He was suffocating under the weight and pressure, his chest burning for even a fraction of a breath. The world was ending. Ripped apart by magic, scorched by corruption, and bathed in a negative darkness that would swallow all of reality. And out of that darkness came a drop of clarity. A figure gave peace to the maelstrom, strengthened the dark, and seemed to pull the burning forces away. It was a man. He was adorned with animal hides and bone trinkets. He wore antlers and furs like a shaman. Crystals hung from his neck and arms, and his eyes were a captivating, soulless blue. Marco struggled to keep Vartek at bay while the man stepped closer, his head thrown back in a laugh. One hand reached out to grasp at nothing. Pixels collected at the tips of his fingers before he tore reality itself open.

Silent as the wind, the world began to unravel as he made his escape. And then, it was over.

Marco shuddered awake and lurched to sit up, catching ragged breaths and gasping to fill his lungs. His body was dripping in a cold sweat and pounding with adrenaline. Every breath he drew burned his insides and sent shivers down his spine. He was… it must have been a panic attack, not that knowing helped. It was hard enough catching a gasp of air, compounded by the hole he felt in his stomach… and his chest. Seconds ticked by, but nothing was exploding or trying to kill him, so at last he managed to inhale long enough to fill his lungs and hold it.

Slowly he let the exhale pass, pushing aside the pain to get his bearings. Marco looked around with frantic desperation, realizing he was indoors, on a bed, and… in the hospital. It was… old, maybe the basement judging by the stone walls? No, even in the darkness he could recognize where he was.

"C-castle… Butterfly…"

He took a slow breath, swallowing to ease his abraded throat before finally taking notice of the machine beeping a rapid tempo beside the bed. The realization of his surroundings didn't bring comfort. What had happened to him? What about the battle? Where was everyone, where was Star? Questions flooded his mind as the beeping only quickened before abruptly falling silent.

"I was… we… gaaahhh!" Marco clutched his temple as a searing pain burned behind his eyes. A vision. A man dressed in furs and bone and crystal. A million worlds suspended beyond time. A web of gold branching in all directions, and a darkness that swallowed everything. Marco took another slow breath, letting the vision pass. He was still gasping, but one memory calmed his panic almost immediately. There was Star, sitting in front of him. She was clean and bright and shining against the dark. But… Why did she look so mad?

The searing pain began to die down as the beeping returned at a moderate speed. Marco slumped back in the bed, staring at the oak supports of the ceiling. "Six months…" He breathed.

He had died.

They won, but half a year had gone by in a matter of minutes. Everyone thought he'd been killed. And Star was-

*SLAM!*

Two doors at the far side of the room swung open to herald a Mewman woman, followed by Queen Moon, a few knights, and-

"MIJO!"

"MARCO!"

Angie and Raphael Diaz rushed from behind the knights, both of them clambering at the sides of his bed and desperately reaching for any part of him they could grab. They held his face, brushed his hair, kissed his hands and cried happy tears as Marco could only lie there and receive a torrent of affection. Angie held his face against her cheek, stroking his hair and muttering through sobs, "Oh my god…They told us they found you, and you were dying and- and we- we didn't know what we'd find!"

Raphael could only hold Marcos hand to his cheek and choke through ragged breaths. "...Nunca pensé que te volvería a ver… its been so long…"

For as long as they needed, Marco let them have anything they wanted before they started to relax enough to speak without breaking down. They were staring at him expectantly. He hadn't said anything since they'd charged at him, but what was there to say? How could he empathize with them when he'd only been gone for… six months. "Mom, Dad… I-..." His mouth moved and pieced through several different questions and statements and apologies. Without provocation he pulled them into a hug, one they were happy to reciprocate. His stomach burned in protest, the beeping quickened, but he didn't care. They won. They really won. "It's okay… I'm back, I promise. I'm so sorry I worried you…"

Angie held him tight and nodded, her relieved sobs growing softer. "My sweet baby boy… oh my son… we couldn't find you… all alone… months in your room… so long…" Another chilling realization came with the word 'months', but Marco found that it didn't matter for them. All he could do was hold them for a few moments, answering their clipped relief with consolation and promises that this was real. Until a third party came to bring them back to reality.

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt. I know this must be a lot to take in, but I feel compelled to remind you that it's the same for young mister Diaz here as well." A Nurse stepped towards the bed holding a clipboard and a small case of supplies. "Too much excitement could shock him, but I promise you'll have more time to reconnect once we're sure he's stable."

She opened her case and produced a needle filled with some sort of red liquid, injecting it into an IV he didn't know was sprouting from his arm. Angie and Raphael were slow to accept, but eventually pulled back enough to let the nurse begin applying a yellow cream to his shoulder and neck. It brought immediate relief to his strained muscles. As she adjusted his bandages, of which there were apparently plenty, Queen Moon stepped in and held Angie's shoulder. "As promised, you all may stay as long as you like until we work out the finer details of… all this. We offer the finest in leading medicine and magic to-"

To Marcos surprise, both of his parents brushed past Moon without so much as a word. They were halfway to the door when they looked back at him, Angie forcing a tepid smile. "We'll see you in the morning sweetie. Get plenty of rest, get better, and… we'll be right upstairs."

Marco nodded with a smile, but felt it fade as he watched Raphael give Moon the side eye. "We will talk about taking you back home when you are better. And hopefully we can put all of this behind us." Moon watched them leave with a carefully constructed neutral façade, and once they had left Marco watched her deflate. She stared at the door for a moment before making her way to the bedside, gesturing to the nurse. "Willow, how is he?"

The nurse didn't answer right away, being far too busy applying a green gel to his ribs and rewrapping the bandage on his forearm. "That depends. Mister Diaz, how do you feel?" She continued to work as Marco sifted through the varying responses to a question like that, at a time like this. Mentally? Physically? Emotionally? Maybe downplaying would be the best bet, given how anxious Moon looked, and how obvious his parents' view of the situation was.

"I feel okay," he half lied, choosing to dwell on the relief more than the pain. "Better than okay, considering what happened. Speaking of which… what happened?"

Moon stood beside the bed, quietly contemplating her own answer for a moment before the nurse stepped back to log readings and notes on a clipboard. Just before Marco made to change his question to something less broad, the Queen of Mewni sighed in defeat and rubbed her eyes. "You may not remember, but I wasn't exactly… myself that day. A lot of the battle is unknown. We lost a great number of people, in far too many ways. We're looking for most of them, however lost and broken as they may be, with help from the woman who-" She sighed again, shaking her head. "I think Star may be more qualified to get you up to speed on the finer details of that dreadful day. I've mostly spent my time on more… diplomatic errands."

So, they obviously won, and the losses weren't as cataclysmic as they could have been. But what about their friends? What happened to the razed kingdom? Where was Vartek? Was Merina the woman with Star when he was brought back? Everything was on fire only a couple of minutes ago! "Is this… real?" Marco couldn't stop himself from letting the thought slip into a question.

Moon stared at him briefly before finally letting a comforting smile break through. "This is real, Marco. You did it. And the entire kingdom owes you a debt for your sacrifice. But as you may imagine, that will have to wait until you can stand on your own two feet again."

The nurse, who's name was Willow, probably, clicked her pen and scribbled one last line of notes. He'd gone quiet, but at least he was in better shape than someone who'd been missing for six months. She stowed her clipboard, gave him one more quick shot, and finally closed her tin box. "Mister Diaz, your vitals are improving, and you seem to be making a steady recovery. Your metal state is inconsistent with a comatose patient of six months, but that's a good thing. I would recommend at least another week of bed rest before you go back to- erm, before you try to tackle more demanding activities."

Without another word, Willow made to leave, followed shortly after by Moon and her knights. "Try to get some rest for now, Marco," she soothed, ushering out the last of her entourage, "I'm sure you have lots of questions, and I imagine you'd like to see your friends as soon as possible. But for now, focus on getting better." She stepped through the door, offering over her shoulder, "and please be kind. It's been very… It's been hard. For everyone."

With his welcoming party gone, Marco was at a loss of words. He could empathize with that parting remark, given his last two interactions since he'd woken up, but his heart still felt like it was beating out of his chest. He looked at his hands, inspecting the fresh calluses and bandages around them. It was all so… fresh. He'd hardly healed at all, yet he'd been gone for so long. He glanced at the tubes coming out of his arms, his bed, the machines beeping and pulsing with magic and tech. It was admittedly frightening to look at, but not enough to warrant the edge to his shallow breaths. And then, he realized why he felt so uneasy. He wasn't alone.

Standing in the still open doorway, Star stood at the entrance to the room, watching him from a wary distance. Almost immediately he felt his chest lighten and his lips pull into a smile. "Star…" He breathed, but just as quickly as it had grown, his relief faded. She hadn't moved a muscle. She just stood there, holding the doorway like she might bolt out of sight at any moment. "Looks like I'm gonna be fine, until the next big scrape huh?"

Not a sound. Not even a nod.

He frowned. Some part of his mind crept back to that thunderous slap. The anger edging her voice, the tears streaming down her cheeks. The way that she looked; just absolutely broken. It hadn't even really looked like her in that place. And the only words he could firmly latch onto: 'who was there for me?!' She'd screamed those words at him like her very life depended on it. She'd been there for everyone, but who had been there for her?

"I'm sorry I left." His voice carried that gentle sentiment across the room, but from her lack of reaction you wouldn't know she'd heard him. "I understand why you're mad. You have every right to be. You've been carrying the weight of the world on your back, leading everyone forward and keeping people happy… but I was supposed to be here. Doing the same for you."

×Music×

~Past Lives, version by Kzzie~

Finally, she let go of the doorframe and took a slow step forward. Her gaze fell to stare at the ground while she absently stroked her hair. A slow nod was her only answer.

"You thought I'd died, and you had to keep moving on when I promised you I'd be right there to help. I don't blame you for being angry with me- I wouldn't blame you if you hate me for it. I did abandon you, and I deserve worse than just a slap to the face." Marco let slip a shaky sigh, grabbing the bed sheets to power through the burning in his gut. "I should've been here for you. I should have kept my promise."

He waited, listening for her to agree with him, to bombard him with rekindled anger and betrayal. But she didn't. She bit back a choked sob, squeezing her locks of golden hair to keep face. She was still holding back, and she was about to fall apart. He couldn't be there for her then, but he certainly could be now. What else was there to do but help her carry what she'd been shouldering for so long without him.

"Star."

She caught her breath, nearly shaking with the effort it took to keep herself grounded. To be that pillar of hope and perseverance her people needed her to be. Slowly, she looked up to meet his gaze, her eyes already spilling with tears. With grating effort, Marco slowly and carefully pulled himself out of bed. He planted two feet on the ground, gritting his teeth through the blazing pain. It was nothing compared to what she'd been feeling for months. He stood, wobbled on uneasy ground, then held out his arms.

"You don't have to be strong anymore," he soothed, his voice cool and gentle like a summer breeze, "I'm here for you. Let me carry that weight for a little while."

She stood there for a moment, watching him like he'd vanish at any moment before a broken smile spread between her heart-stamped cheeks. She nodded, wiping her nose and slowly making her way over to him. She threw her arms around him and enveloped him a desperately needed hug as he smiled and rested his head atop hers. Only then did she fall apart; a mixture of sadness and joy and grief and hope swirled into tears that cascaded down her cheeks as she cried. Marco could only stroke her hair and sway gently, letting her open up to him alone with gasping cries.

"I missed you… so much… every day…" she wailed through a torrent of tears. "I thought I lost you… all over again! And my one chance to tell you I love you, I spent being mad!"

Marco held her as tightly as his wounds would allow. He wiped his eyes on his shoulder and rubbed her back. "I love you too, Star. No matter what happens, I'll always know that."

For a long moment the two could only console one another with shaking breaths and swaying comfort. It had been a long time coming. For Star, it still felt like she was dreaming. She'd had so many dreams just like this, only to wake up in a dark room, alone. She let out a shaky laugh and squeezed him closer. "If we have to meet like this again… I think it'll be the end of me. I dunno how many more times I can see you all messed up…"

Marco smiled and simply relished in her embrace. The smell of her hair, the feel of her skin, the warmth of her body; it felt like it had been forever since he'd laid his eyes on her, though it'd only been a day. "If I ever worry you like this again, feel free to break up with me," he laughed back, "that, or make me work with Lavabo for a week to straighten me out. See how far I get after that."

Star shook her head as a giggle graced her lips for the first time in half a year. "Are you crazy?" She demanded. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, you idiot. You're mine until… until I decide otherwise. So there."

He nodded against her head. The scent of strawberries and flowers made his heart skip a beat, and the gentle thrum of his heartbeat was music to her ears. Their last hug, one steeped in fear and grim determination, had been far too short by comparison. Now there was no cataclysm to stand before, no apocalypse threatening to darken the skies. It was just them, like it hadn't been for a very long time. But reality was never one to be set aside and dealt with when it was easy. Both of them knew it, and it was Star who decided sooner was far more inviting than later.

Into his shoulder, she spoke with a low croak, "Marco… there's something I need to tell you."

He pulled away just enough to meet her gaze, not ready to let go just yet. Corn, he was so gentle, and kind. He stood for her like a rock, ready to brace any storm so long as she was there with him. "When you… when you died. It felt like a piece of my heart was being ripped out. I felt everything, and then I lost everything, every little bit of warmth in my chest. I… I lost our bond." She stared at him like she expected him to be mortified. "Luna sacrificed herself to bring back Merina, so we don't… we can't… Marco, we're not bonded-"

Marco brought her back into a hug. This one less ravenous, but just as genuine. "We don't need it," he whispered, easing her creeping fears in an instant. The thought had been eating at her since she found him, that without a bond he'd have no reason to stay. No tie to keep them together, especially with how she'd reacted. But he never even hesitated to remind her that he was here to stay. "I promise you I'll never leave like that again. You'll have the real me until the day you decide otherwise, no matter what, Blood Moon or not."

"But our magic, and the-"

"We won, Star." He gave her just enough time to ease her fear with a smile before kissing her, softly and gently. He pressed his forehead to hers. "We don't need fire or curses or bonds, we have each other. We beat Vartek, so I bet we can handle the normal stuff just fine without it. We didn't need it last time, after all."

The memory of that fateful night at Buffrogs came to mind. His time spent with Darc, and Luna. Both of them knew what was coming, and both of them had prepared in their own ways. "She regretted what she did to Merina." His voice was stern, but positive. "In the end, I think Luna would have been happy knowing she could undo it without hurting anyone else. I haven't seen or heard from Glossaryck since then, but… I think he'd be happy too. Knowing they fixed things."

After a brief moment of catch up, Star finally nodded. Glossaryck wasn't one to dwell on loss if it was for a good purpose, and Luna had made it apparent that should she have the means, she'd have undone it in a heartbeat. She looked peaceful that day, serene as she rewrote Merina's Fate. "We fixed things. All of us," she reminded him, helping him back towards his bed. He was still injured, after all.

With a sigh, Marco let himself be carefully laid back to rest. He didn't feel so anxious anymore. He didn't feel like the world was spinning without him. "So… would you mind, getting me up to speed?" He asked, scooching over and patting the now vacant and alluring side of the bed. "What did I miss, apart from the super obvious bad parts."

She shrugged. "I kiiinda spent every Thursday moping… and crying. But I guess that was sorta the style for the past six months." She started, realizing she could do what she'd fantasized a dozen times since she'd lost him. There were a lot of positives she could retell, and a new climax to all of it that she could enjoy. She laid down beside him and held his hand, the two of them staring at the dusty ceiling with smiles. "Okay, so we started replanting the forest of certain death, now renamed to the Forest of the Lost, for obvious reasons. I tried getting into pottery, which failed, also tried getting into painting, but that fell through too."

Marco nodded and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Yeah, I think Mercenary work and clubbing are more your speed."

With a groan and a laugh, Star squeezed his hand back. "Don't even get me started. I tried introducing clubbing to Vintal, but those guys don't exactly have the hardware for a good party, so it was mostly a wash. Grenor can play the violin now, by the way."

"I figured he'd have the patience for that. Now that the war's off."

"And speaking of patience," Star noted, rubbing her thumb against his. "Tom and Tor' are still crashing at the castle, since they're pretty much fugitives and traitors of the Underworld. Janna and Fergs are back together, no surprise there. Alphonso is dating that Swedish exchange student, Enteg, I think you met her. And your parents-..." She caught her breath, reality catching up again.

Marco nodded, brushing his thumb against the side of her palm. "Probably gonna hear a lot from them later," he sighed. "They didn't say anything yet, but I imagine they're not exactly thrilled with the idea of me staying on Mewni." Judging from the sudden rigidness of Star's hand, he could tell she was reasonably mortified by that. Because it wasn't really Mewni that they would inevitably blame for Marcos… death. It was her fault for bringing him into this. Her fault for making him- "Star."

She didn't answer, so Marco nodded and squeezed her hand. "It's gonna be alright. Don't dwell on it right now, you'll win 'em over again later, and I'll be right in your corner. They're just… concerned. Nothing we can't handle."

Her smile was a thin line, but she had to concede to his point. In any event, they'd always been right there with her, supporting her friendship with Marco. Now was obviously a different situation, but it was one she could handle. "Merina's been looking for missing Turned citizens, and I think my mom might see if she can get Vartek to undo what he did. He's locked up in the dungeon for now, but from what I've heard he's been pretty harmless."

From the cold reception she got, Star chanced a glance at Marco. He was staring up, his face one of stony resolve. "'Harmless' isn't the word that comes to mind. We lost a lot of people," he whispered, the obvious guilt corroding his words. "I don't think anyone wants to hear it, especially if we're missing his minions, but giving that guy an inch might be a huge mistake. Even if… I dunno."

Star leaned closer and rested her head on his shoulder, careful to watch for any sign of protest from his injuries. "I know. I've been telling her the same thing, but she keeps saying they'll figure it out."

The room fell back into a quiet that threatened to drown out the warm reception. Not wanting to feel like all she had was nonsense and bad news, Star doubled down to pour a little more positivity on the situation. "Let's see. My dad got into ship building, so I hope you got some ships in ya. Mom's been working on diplomatic stuff, which I've been helping with when I have time. It's sorta like last time, but Monsters and Mewmans are doing more for each other like building roads and trading goods. It's a good step forward seeing the exchange, but if we can get some more roads built, maybe proper trade routes, and habitable settlements away from the Far Lands, I think it's gonna be way better. I've even been on a couple diplomatic trips to the Monster villages, meeting elders and helping where I can."

The silence hadn't faded from their conversation, so Star chanced a slow glance up at Marco. He was already staring at her, his eyes all but shining above a polite grin. "What, Nerd? Got something on my face?"

He laughed, then clutched his aching ribs. "No, no. It's just…" He struggled to find the best way to put it. "You sound like a Queen. Like you've really made an effort to step up and take charge of stuff. It's… it's really awesome. You've, I dunno. You've grown more, and here I am still me from months ago. I'm so proud of you, if that's something I'm allowed to say."

While Star loved nothing more than the idea of Marco applauding her progress, one of the things she'd been dreaming about for half a year, it wasn't the most prominent thing he'd said. It was the silent question he'd asked. She craned her neck to kiss his chin and cupped his cheek, smiling. "You were already perfect, Marco. You gave up everything for me- for Mewni. There isn't a soul in the kingdom who doesn't recognize that kinda sacrifice. It may seem like no time's passed, yeah, but you've still been making waves, even while you've been gone."

Marco tried to keep a smile, but it turned cold, his eyes looking far away. "I'm just… glad you made it. Above everything else, I was terrified that I'd never see you again. I knew if I stopped Vartek, you'd be safe, but I'd miss everything you did. In a way, I did miss everything."

Star pulled his face closer to kiss him, tracing her fingers up his chest to his jaw. Marco relished in the feeling, pushing her golden hair aside to run his hand over the back of her neck. Breathless, she ran a small line of kisses down his cheek and over to his ear. "I'll tell ya what I've been missing," she whispered with a voice as soft as velvet, "When you're feeling better? This Queen is gonna…"

Every pent up shade of sweet nothings flooded into his ear. The monitor beside the bed took to madly beeping in time with his racing heart as Marco nodded, staring across the room. "Remind me to check out next time I see the nurse."

O - O - O - O - O - O - O

The sharp clicking of heels echoed through the stone corridor deep beneath castle Butterfly. It had been ages since these vacant and stagnant halls had seen use, and it showed. Green slime cultivated amidst puddles of stale water dripping from above, creating a musky, rank odor that really brought the castle dungeons together. Dim torchlight stretched into the distance, blending into one string of lights far away and ending in darkness. Moon marched ahead, flanked by Willow, the head Medicinal Attendant to the family.

They strode by rows of rusted iron cages, all empty since her reign began. The dungeons had been abandoned, used for storage, dismissed, and forgotten. Until now. A new face had come to stay, a wayward soul that had gotten lost, in need of rehabilitation. Far at the end, Moon and Willow stopped before four armored warriors, and a vault door four feet wide. Two Mewman knights and two Monster Commandos. This had very recently become a global affair, and every kingdom would get a piece. But not before her majesty. One Mewman and one Monster approached, both maintaining a striking level of bearing as Moon listed off the pass phrases.

"Chroma. Lunde. Pastel. Trait. Visage. Copper."

The two sentries immediately stepped aside as their counterparts took to unlocking the vault door. Heavy iron bars groaned as the four inch thick locks slid out of place, slamming into their ready position one by one. With grinding metal against stone, the door was pulled open, revealing twenty more feet of hallway, and a cell. A cell containing nothing more, and nothing less, than the most dangerous man Mewni had ever seen. And he was due for visiting hours.

Moon approached the vault door, stepping through with Willow and followed by the two sentries from outside. They weren't here for her protection, however, they were here to protect Vartek.

While Castle Butterflies dungeons had seen the worst of the worst, from Pie folk, would be Assasins, warlock toads, Rolfe, and of course Batwin for one night, one cell had been a new addition. One cell wasn't built, but designed with one expected resident in mind that it would never house. Moon had this specific cell commissioned when she was only a teenager. The knotted wooden bars were made of Weeping Blood Willow, etched with special runes to block the use of magic, lined with Tamorphian wire to block communications, and reinforced with iron. The walls alone were two feet thick at the minimum. And in the back, tied up, chained and barred was Vartek.

Moon stared at him, and he continued to stare at the ground, unmoving as the two sentries unlocked the cell door. They stepped aside as Moon and Willow entered, but they didn't leave. Willow got to work right away, taking vitals, checking for infections, sampling a bit of blood, but Moon stayed still. Her eyes were deceptively calm, and her lips remained a thin frown of disappointment. "I helped design this cell when I was just a girl," she noted, snapping out of her daze and running her fingers over the wooden bars. "It was meant to hold our kingdom's greatest enemy. Built to be impervious to any tricks or traits he could muster. But when he didn't come back with a vengeance, I feared it would sit dormant until the castle above it crumbled to dust. …until you showed up."

Vartek didn't answer. He didn't move a muscle. The only indication that he was even alive came from Willow as she listed off her findings to the Queen. She was quick to excuse herself, both to preserve her samples and to give Moon the space she'd earlier requested in private. "You've got a great deal of my citizens waiting with bated breath to see you brought to justice. You sowed so much pain upon my daughter, and you put so many of us through unbearable hardships." She stayed near the door of the cell, careful to provoke neither the sentries nor the prisoner. "I could and intend to write a very long list of grievances, war crimes, acts of terror, murders, but that will have to wait until the leaders of the other kingdoms arrive. You'll likely be put to death, or worse, depending on what your verdict is. I have no way of knowing."

He still didn't answer. Not even a twitch or a sigh. His eyes stayed glued to the floor.

"Vartek."

He almost looked up, nothing but the sound of a single link in the chain leading to his muzzle indicating so.

"Will you not fight?" Moon asked, taking one tentative step closer. The sentries to her rear shifted nervously, but didn't object. "I saw you… the real you, in that Temple. I know what loss can drive people to do, and I happen to be one of the few people who understands what magic can do to someone who can't control it- who knows you weren't under your own control."

Still nothing. Moon shook her head and took one more step closer. The sentries moved to draw their weapons, but she held up a hand glowing with pink magic. She wouldn't be denied this moment, no matter the cost. Too many lives were riding on her success. She was two feet away from a killer among killers. "I want to see you put to the block as much as any other sane denizen in this kingdom. But you have an opportunity to plead innocent."

Finally, his muzzle slowly turned up to look at her. His eyes were nearly empty of all emotion, but they blazed a brilliant topaz against the torchlight. Moon took that as a good sign and pressed forward, careful not to overstep. Careful not to ruin everything. "You can undo the spell on the missing Turned. You can plead that you weren't of your own will. You may be punished, but you don't have to die. I saw the man you once were beneath your corruption, and I know the grief you carried all the while. I may hate you, but you don't deserve to die simply because you were broken."

For a long moment, Moon worried she'd lost what small semblance of attention she could get from him. She took a step back, a silent indication that it was now or never. For both of them. Vartek breathed a slow, rasping sigh as heavy as the chains that bound him. "I cannot undo the spell as I am." The bones in his shoulders cracked as he relaxed, easing to lean against the wall to his rear. "I cannot take back what I've done. I will not fight any more, not against magic, not against you, and not against an indifferent universe. Let me pay for my crimes, and let the world move on. I won't pull anyone else down with me. I won't fight."

The sentries shifted, but Moon nodded regardless. Her voice hollow and as empty as the cells she'd emptied, she noted, "Then you will die." Vartek made no indication that he cared in the slightest, so she went for a different angle. All she wanted was for the Turned to be freed from their spell. For families to be reunited and for Mewni to truly heal from his wounds. A prospect she found inspiration in. "Is that all you want? To die for no cause? To give up? To lose the fight when you still have a chance? Is that the man you are?"

A small chorus of squeaks sounded down the hall, an army of Rats scurrying by in search of food. Vartek inclined his head to watch them, finding it far more interesting than this pointless argument. "What chance do I have? There's nothing I can do, and trying would have me killed anyway. I've already-"

"I gave you a chance."

He started. Moon frowned with boiling impatience, the same way she looked that night. Scolding a magic wielding lunatic like he was some lost child. "I gave you the opportunity to be better, to make the right choice, and to forge a better future for your family. I saw what no one else could see in you, Vartek: an agonizing grief I could relate to, one that had pushed you as far as this. I once let myself fall far from grace and position in an attempt to rectify a loss I couldn't accept. I gave you a chance that night, I offered to help you then. And I'm offering to help you now."

He met her gaze, his eyes wide, yellow, and terrified. He looked just like he did that might, and he could remember well the feeling that haunted him even now. To be, in that moment, so tantalizingly close to freeing himself, only to be drowned in corrupted magic. He could recall his vision of Merina in the temple, the way she pleaded with him to stop and free himself. He was always so close. But it never mattered.

Reading the wistful look in his eyes, Moon asked, "What would Merina want, I wonder?"

That apparently hadn't been the right question. Vartek scoffed and shook his head, his chains rattling against the stone. "She wants to go home," he argued. "She deserves to go home. She wants nothing to do with me, and I find that venture to be the most agreeable choice."

"Because you feel responsible?"

Vartek shook his head. "Because I am responsible. I did this. She had nothing to do with my attacks on Mewni or your family. She'd just as happily see my put to death than go home. I can see it in her eyes, a longing I can feel from experience."

He waited, listening for some retort or argument to come, but Moon said nothing. When he looked back at her, he found the Queen meeting his gaze with a wry smile, her eyes soft. She could work with that. "You don't know what love can do to a woman who feels like she's all alone. Take it from a Queen who knows: when you feel like you've lost everything you care about, all it takes is a good apology and an act of kindness to open a heart. All I ask is that you consider your actions carefully, and try before you resign yourself to a fate you don't entirely deserve. If you truly feel the way you seem to, and if you make a real effort to fix what you've broken…?"

Vartek stared at her, motionless despite his now racing thoughts. He'd given up any chance of forgiveness from the moment he stepped back into reality. But… atonement. Reconciliation? Lofty goals, surely, but if there was a possibility…

"In three days, you will be tried as an enemy of Mewni. By all counts it's a momentous occasion that all tribes and races of Mewni will gather as one to decide your fate. I can't save you, and I won't act on your behalf to sway the opinion of the people. You will be on your own. But… I'm offering you the chance to make your voice heard, the real Vartek, and not the corruption that forced your hand. Three days to rectify your misdeeds. I hope this time you take that chance."

Without waiting for refusal or acceptance, Moon turned to leave. She'd said her piece, and now it was all on Vartek to change his Fate. If he was resigned to die, then so be it. If he wanted to make moves, to try and fix the world he'd left all but shattered? Every missing Turned now rested in his hands. Every empty seat at dinner tables, every empty stall in the market, every empty bed on a cold might. He could fill them, if he would only decide to be stronger than the man he was six months ago.

"Moon- Y-your majesty," Vartek called after her. She stopped, waiting as the sentries locked the cell door and began heading for the vault. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw one last glimmer of hope in his golden eyes. Desperation and fear mixed into something terrifying and sorrowful. "Whatever my fate… I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to listen to you that night. Thank you… for trying."

Moon nodded. "I had a bad day too, once upon a time, and someone was there when I needed it. You can repay my kindness by fixing your mess, and you can save yourself in a way you couldn't before. I'll do what I can for you over the next three days, so don't waste the opportunity."

Vartek couldn't help but nod, just as the vault door slammed shut, leaving him alone in his dark cell.

To Be Continued in:

Forgotten Fates Ch. 8 ~ We Meet Again

"So what, then? I should just forget that he ran a sword through my gut and let you hand over the keys to the city? You can't blame magic for what he did. Maybe... I dunno maybe part of it. But some people are just straight evil. Some people can't be fixed, and they don't wanna be."

Authors note

Boy. Where to begin. I could give you the usual spiel, "I was busy, life came at me fast, I lost motivation, writer's block, terminal diarrhea-" all that jazz. The main point is I haven't been uploading, like at all. Neither have I been editing Forgotten Ventures. I'm not here to make excuses, but I will say that I apologize to the few of you who still stick around for updates on my main three stories. Maybe the problem lies with foolishly trying to write three. Plus the novel I'm working on. I've always had eyes bigger than my hands, but the real problem I guess is the motivation.

I hate to say it, but I feel like this little corner of Fanfiction is dying out. Not as many people are writing or want to read, Star vs. fics. Views go down, reviews melt away, people don't carry the same passion for it as they used to. Or maybe it's me and my schedule. I'll always come back, eventually, to pump out another chapter, but over the years it seems as though it's been to smaller and smaller fanfare.

Not to say I need my ego stoked, or that I want recognition befitting a real writer, no. I got into writing for one reason: to inspire and excite people who read my stories, in the same way that others stories have inspired and excited me. Lacking that, I guess I just lost the inspiration of my own. Maybe with less time for reading and enjoying and learning, I lose my own inspiration. This isn't me saying goodbye, it's not me fading away like so many others have on this site, just… me making excuses.

Forgotten Fates may be re-connected to Forgotten Ventures in the future, to keep it tied to one long story and avoid a (frankly) pointless and senseless divide between act one, and act two. Maybe the problem is people think the story died with Marco. The point is, I don't have any good reason for why the time between uploads has been increasing. All I can say is I apologize to those loyal fans out there, and I'm trying to do better. I love this story, and I intend to finish it. But as the Fandom withers over the years, I hope there are still plenty of readers looking to be inspired. Au revoir, my friends. Until next time!

~Mr. Ronald Reagan