Yes, I am still working on the story. Sorry progress has been this slow, but I will try my best to keep chapters coming!

A big thank you to everyone who's been keeping up with the story and those that have only recently found out.

A review would mean a lot, I appreciate all feedback.

Don't be afraid to ask any questions, I always try to reply.

Enjoy!

Chapter 25: Healing

The sound of ringing metal echoed through the Swords and Shields arena as two dark shapes jumped around and slashed at each other. The large space was otherwise abandoned, and their panting and grunting was much more audible than it otherwise would have been.

Archer did most of the panting. His face was red, and beads of sweat streamed down his features and his back as he tried his very best to hold his own, but his opponent was not letting him off easy. CJ was panting as well, but looked notably more composed than Archer. She had a determined look in her eyes as she struck at him, dancing around him like a whirlwind.

Archer had told CJ not to hold back. He was tired of people babying him; afraid that he would break down and crumble like an antique vase. He was a fighter. A warrior. A survivor of some of the most harrowing experiences any human would ever be likely to face. Nevertheless, he was regretting his decision somewhat, as CJ mercilessly hacked into him and drove him back.

Multiple months had passed since the second great war, and Archer appeared to nearly be back to his old self. His skin was still a little paler than usual, and there were some new scars that would likely never disappear, but he no longer looked 'zombie-ish', as his friends liked to put it. Months of physical rehabilitation had quickly allowed Archer to switch from a wheelchair to crutches, and then to walking. Never one to wait on the sidelines for long, Archer had made it his goal to return to training as quickly as possible.

It was a blessing, therefore, that Auradon Prep had been successfully rebuilt some time ago. Most of the students and teachers had not opted to return as of yet, instead opting to wait for the school year to commence once more. CJ, who naturally lived in the building, and Archer were some of the few who did stay in the school once again, along with the other VK's and the Righteous Sons, safe for Ben and Mal, who stayed at Beast Castle. Fairy Godmother had returned as well, though she still needed a cane to support herself and spent most of her time resting. Being back at the school delighted Archer, who grew more and more comfortable being around other people again. It also meant he had no shortage of potential sparring partners.

Still, so far, the only one who would not hold back in the ring was CJ, and Archer could not be more thankful for her. Nevertheless, his condition had not allowed him to return to top form as of yet, and it showed. Over the past few weeks, he and CJ had duked it out in the arena dozens of times, and CJ had won every single one of their bouts. She didn't rub it in or anything, but Archer tended to notice her looking at him with somewhat of a pitiful stare from time to time nowadays.

Today was no different. Archer tried his best, but he felt himself grow tired much quicker than had ever been the case before he had been revived. His muscles, while having improved immensely ever since he been allowed out of his wheelchair, were still somewhat stiff, which cost him in both the mobility and reflexes departments.

Adding to that, Archer had lost Excalibur after he had used the blade to destroy the black cauldron. The two relics had melted together somewhat, and were now displayed on History Island. The loss of his sword had wounded Archer more than he liked to admit. He liked to brag that a sword was only as good as the arm that swung it, but he had also always known that Excalibur was special. It was as though he had lost a dear friend; a part of himself. Now, every time he had to use a regular sword or one of the practice blades during S.A.S. training, he felt restrained and sluggish.

CJ had also had to deal with some harrowing injuries, but she was spared the torment of having aspects of Solomon linger in your psyche. Her recovery had been miraculously fast, and she was already back to doing cartwheels, flips and other such acrobatic moves during their sparring sessions.

Unable to deal with CJ's agility, Archer found himself continuously kicked by her legs or hit by the blunt edges of the practice swords they were using. He quickly felt himself tire out and his limbs notably stiffened. After a particularly successful combination of strikes, CJ managed to bring Archer off balance before hitting his sword from his hand and tossing him to the cold arena floor.

Archer groaned and coughed as his back caught the brunt of the hit. Looking up, he found himself eye to eye with the tip of CJ's blade. She looked down on him, her golden-brown eyes sparkling.

"I yield…" Archer panted, answering her wordless request.

"You did good." CJ complimented him, lowering her sword before reaching out a hand to help him back up. "You're lasting a little longer every day. That's a good thing, right?"

"I still don't feel anywhere near good though…" Archer lamented, rubbing his sides, which had had to endure a barrage of CJ's kicks during their sparring session.

"What? Because you can't beat me? I'm not exactly a beginner." CJ replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Look, I know you're amazing, and so on, but things were never this, ehm, one-sided before…" Archer muttered, blushing slightly.

"You're referring to the fact that, since we started sparring again, the score is CJ: 27, Archer: 0?" CJ asked in a teasing tone.

"Just you wait…" Archer challenged, pointing a finger. "When I'm back to my best…"

"Don't rush it…" CJ tried to calm him down. "That's what the others always say, right? It was the same with me, and look at me now." She smiled, doing a little twirl as the two of them headed back to the changing rooms.

Archer couldn't help but grin. Only CJ was able to make him smile nowadays. "I just…" He began, leaning against his locker. "What if I never get back to my best though? What if that's, like, a part of me that's lost, or whatever?"

CJ threw their practice swords in a bin before turning around to face Archer. She had a peculiar look in her eyes; one which Archer noticed more and more often the more time they spent together. It contained hints of glee, disbelief, gratitude and melancholy. Archer could only interpret it as CJ having to keep reminding herself that he was actually here, talking to her, when she had previously believed he had died and would not return to her.

"I mean, I know it was an important part of your life…" She began, slowly walking in his direction. "Fighting, and all that… But that's not all that you are, you know?"

"Throughout my life, I found out it was what people expected of me." Archer tried to explain.

"So, what? Screw them!" CJ snapped. "The only who gets to decide who or what you are and will be, is you…"

Archer snickered a little. "You sound like a deep thinker… How very unlike you…"

CJ gently punched his shoulder, also smiling.

Archer's smile faded slightly. "I did lose a part of me though… Excalibur…"

"Hey." CJ interrupted him, putting her hand on his cheek and making him look straight at her. "I did not fall in love with Excalibur. I fell in love with you…" She poked him in the chest.

Her words and her touch warmed Archer's insides. To hear CJ state, without so much as a hint of shame or hesitance, that she loved him, was the greatest gift he could have ever asked for. They both leaned in at the same to peck each other on the lips. Archer felt a now familiar spark travel through his body. True love's kiss… Works every time…

Both he and CJ headed to the showers after that to freshen up before dinner. Archer could not help but examine his bare torso in the mirror after cleaning himself up. His fight with Solomon during the battle of Auradon City had left him with large scars on his left arm, left shoulder and his back. These had been added to wounds he had suffered during earlier battles. He ran his hand over the gash above his heart, the one that killed him, and unwillingly shuddered.

"It's not so bad…" CJ spoke up, joining him. "All things considered…"

"It still stings. Or, something similar at least…" Archer whispered, still running his hand across the scar.

"Didn't you tell me that every scar is a story, or something? And that stories are what make people such beautiful and interesting creatures?" CJ perked up, standing beside Archer and looking in the mirror with him.

"How come I always fall victim to my own words?" He piped up a little, wrapping his arms around CJ.

Her towel moved a little, revealing the enormous scar on her stomach; the one courtesy of Archer's blade. His eyes immediately widened, and he felt a pang of regret. CJ hastily covered herself back up.

"Don't think about it." She told Archer, turning to face him. "Please."

"How can I not?" He groaned. "I'm still so sorry, CJ…"

"It wasn't you." She emphasized, taking a hold of his hands and gripping them tightly. "We both know who it was, and I thought we both agreed to never mention him again."

Archer nodded. "I am totally fine with that."

CJ looked Archer over again. "You know, once these are fully healed, I bet the scars are gonna make ya look really sexy…"

"Oh yeah?" He snickered. "Even more than I already am?"

"You just keep fishing for compliments. Who knew dying could make someone so insecure…" CJ countered.

Their banter continued as they put their clothes back on before heading out towards the cafeteria, walking hand in hand.

They were greeted by loud greetings from Jay, Freddie and Aden, who were setting the tables. The kitchen staff had not returned yet, but that did not trouble the current inhabitants of Auradon Prep in the slightest. Instead, they took turns cooking their favorite foods before serving them in the otherwise abandoned cafeteria. To Archer, it felt as though they were having a giant, multi-night sleepover in the school. Every night, they would gather in the courtyard to play games, watch movies by shining a beamer on a giant canvass, or tell boastful stories of the war while roasting marshmallows over a self-made fire.

Things seemed better than ever, but every interaction had that slight undertone of gloom and shared trauma. During the quieter moments, when people would simply eat or look ahead without talking, memories of the war would undoubtedly flash through everyone's minds. The likes of Jay, Lonnie and Lancelot had also suffered grave and notable wounds during the fighting, which served as constant reminders of their sorrow.

No one had been more permanently affected than Carlos however. His leg had been amputated, and he still needed a wheelchair to get from place to place. He was nonetheless still his old optimistic self, always eager to crack a joke or make someone else feel better. He had also already begun working on a personal design for a prosthetic that could, in his own words, 'help him walk better than he ever could'.

Archer and CJ now spent most nights together, and no one really batted an eye at that. With Lancelot still co-occupying his room, Archer tended to find himself going to sleep in CJ's bed. His nights were restless. His dreams were plagued with loud noises and bright and indiscernible flashes of color that disorientated him and often caused him to awaken suddenly, breathing heavily with a rapidly beating heart. Lancelot had explained this away as a side effect of Archer's resurrection.

"At times when your mind is vulnerable, like when you're sleeping, the remnants of Solomon's spell will most likely continue to exude their influence over you." He had stated. "This will lessen with time, though, so you will have to power through it."

And so, Archer went to sleep at the end of every day hoping the nightmares would not rear their ugly heads again, only to be disappointed night after night. He was more afraid of his dreams than he was willing to admit to anyone. The thought that a part of Solomon, no matter how small or insignificant, remained inside him, was unbearable.

Aside from his physical recovery, Archer had also spent hours upon hours in therapy talking about his thoughts and fears. He had found that discussing his troubles with someone who knew how to deal with them did help, but something still withheld him from sharing his deepest and darkest thoughts with anyone for now. He tried to convince himself that this was all just temporary. A setback. That one day he would be healthier and stronger than ever before.

One day, he would again be free.

That night, after an evening of eating Freddie's famous gumbo, watching Jay's favorite action movie and playing a number of fun card games, Archer and CJ retreated to their room later than usual. They were both tired, and Archer was experiencing a slight headache, which he neglected to mention to CJ. They kissed each other goodnight before ducking under the covers.

Archer fell asleep almost immediately.

The nightmares were worse than ever. There was a loud, persistent rushing in his ears, along with constant screams, crashes and explosions. The bright, flashing colors kept taking on vague shapes before dissolving again before Archer could discern any details. While nothing truly frightening was happening, Archer felt more and more anxious and afraid the longer the dream went on.

"Your heart is mine…" A cold voice whispered in his ear from right behind him.

Archer shuddered. He could not bring himself to look back and see who that voice belonged to. He cursed himself for his cowardice, as the sounds and colors kept whirling around him like a hurricane. All of the sudden, the vague colors took on a more discernable shape. The image of a sleeping CJ doomed up in front of Archer, whose eyes widened in panic.

"As is she…" The dark voice added, still whispering. "She is mine…"

'No…' Archer thought to himself, his chest rising and falling with every deep breath he took. 'No, you can't have her…'

"You can't stop me…" The voice sneered. "You are weak… Defenseless… Useless…"

Archer finally turned around, mentally preparing himself for looking at the most grotesque and repulsive form he could ever hope to imagine. Instead, he was confronted by himself. Or, at least, a being that wore his skin.

His hair was shaggy and dirty, his skin grey and sickening, and his eyes were pitch black. When the being spoke, it was still with that cold, dark voice; a voice made purely of malice and disdain. "You cannot protect her… She will perish… You all will…"

Archer straightened up, still breathing heavily. "I will not let you…"

The being took a step in his direction. Its feet dragged and its limbs twitched like those of a dying animal. "There is nothing you can do…" It spoke, blood dripping from its mouth, which curled up into a cruel grin. The being stood less than a foot away from Archer.

Archer, seeing red, abruptly lashed out and grabbed onto the being's throat with both hands, strangling it. It just started cackling, not resisting Archer in the slightest, its eyes bulging in obvious delight.

"You will not touch her!" Archer shouted, strengthening his grip.

The being continued cackling as Archer's fingers dug into its skin, slowly forcing it to its knees. It still made no move to try and pry its opponent's hands away, instead spending all its time laughing mockingly.

"Archer…" Another voice shouted, seemingly from very far away.

Archer did not pay this voice any mind. He first needed to end this wretched being that threatened CJ. He could not let anything happen to her! He needed to protect her! At all costs!

"Archer! Archer!" More voices, still from far away, becoming louder and louder.

The endless storm of colors around him subsided a little, and Archer was soon able to distinguish vague details. Walls… A window… Curtains… Furniture… Bed posts…

"Archer!" The voices were louder than ever, and sounded as though they were right next to him.

Looking back down at the malicious being, Archer instead saw a pale face slowly turning blue, streaks of blonde hair, two golden-brown eyes that were wide with fear and his hands around her throat. CJ!?

His grip slackened the second he became aware of who it was he was strangling. His fingers released their deadly grip on her throat immediately, and Archer felt himself get pulled back with tremendous force at that same moment. It wasn't until that point that he realized a number of hands had been gripping at his arms and shoulders, and someone had even put their arm around his neck in a choke hold. Archer fell backwards, off the bed, accompanied by a cacophony of limbs and bodies. He was still disoriented and extremely confused as people kept pulling on him and scared voices filled the room.

"CJ!? CJ!? Are you alright?" Multiple people asked, their tones all panicked and hasty.

Archer was still being tightly held by multiple individuals, all of whom tried to pin him down and control his movements. His mind became clearer with every passing moment, and panic rushed through him like a tsunami.

What had happened? Why had he been strangling CJ? What was that thing he had seen in his dreams? What was going on!?

"Archer! Archer!" A voice snapped from very close by.

Archer looked up, straight into the panicked eyes of Lancelot, who was leaning over him. "L-Lance…' He panted. "What's happening?"

"He's good. He's come to." Lancelot immediately stated, still looking intently into Archer's eyes.

The people who'd been holding onto Archer released their grip, thought they did so cautiously and gradually. They stood up, while Archer kept lying on the floor. He found himself looking up at Jay, Aden and Alex, all of whom were in pajamas and carried identical, suspicious expressions.

Archer looked past them, to the bed where Freddie, Evie and Jordan had gathered around the panting CJ. They all softly whispered to her, rubbing her back and handing her water.

Archer's gaze met CJ's, and he saw tears in her eyes. She looked at him in a way he had hoped no one would ever do; with fear.

"So, we went to sleep as usual, and it was fine, really… Then, I don't know, a few hours later, he started tossing and groaning. That's nothing new either; he's been having nightmares. It was a little worse this time, though, so I tried to wake him up. I talked to him and shook him around a little, but he wouldn't wake up. I was about to call for someone, when his eyes opened. They were blue and, like, glowing… Like they used to, during fights and stuff… A second later, he reached for my throat and started strangling me… I kicked and struggled and screamed, but he would not let me go… He kept mumbling things like 'not her' or 'won't let you'… I couldn't shake him off, and he kept squeezing tighter and tighter, so I started screaming. Then all the others came in and tried to pull Archer off of me, which didn't work either… He was strong, like, freakishly strong… But he calmed down a little eventually and his eyes stopped glowing… That's when he let me go, and the others pulled him off… And that's about it…" CJ finished her story with a shrug, making it seem like no big deal.

Ben and Mal, who had not been told the harrowing details yet, stared at her with open mouths. After the evens of that night, Archer, CJ and Lancelot had traveled to Beast Castle to inform Ben and Mal, since none of them felt like ignoring this occurrence.

CJ had some bruises around her throat, and Archer's stomach turned every time he looked at them. He was wrecked with guilt, but more than anything else felt like he needed answers.

"And you don't remember anything?" Ben asked him, his tone only slightly suspicious.

"Nothing." Archer shook his head. "I was dreaming, and I remember the dream, but I don't recall attacking CJ. I stopped the moment I came to and realized I was strangling her. I would never do anything to hurt her…" He pleaded with everyone, before directing himself to CJ. "To hurt you…"

"We believe you." CJ told him, patting his hand reassuringly.

Archer was amazed that she handled this situation with such poise and maturity, and did not cower from him in fear or distrust.

"Of course we believe you, Archer, but this is still very serious." Ben spoke up, scratching his chin. "I mean, it's very serious, right?" He asked Lancelot.

"These are most likely some sort of ramifications from Solomon's spell." Lancelot began to explain. "Aftershocks, if you will. Any potent or powerful magic leaves behind traces or residue, which still have the ability to act up. No one had ever recovered from a spell like the one Solomon put you in, so we are in uncharted territory as far as magic is concerned."

"A-Am I dangerous?" Archer asked, his voice trembling slightly. "I mean, can this happen again? Could the remnants of the spell endanger other people?"

"I won't dare say anything with one hundred percent certainty, but, given the dreams you've been having, it's likely for at least one of these episodes to occur again." Lancelot explained.

Archer lowered his head, and CJ gently rubbed his shoulder. Mal stared at the two with pity; it seemed as though she was really worried about Archer.

"So, what's the best course of action?" Ben inquired.

"Isolation, for one." Lancelot began to explain. "Archer needs to be alone in case the spell flares up again. He is unlikely to control himself when this happens, and other people could get hurt."

"What? No!" CJ protested. "Archer is hurting and still recovering. I don't want to leave him alone. He's not evil or dangerous! He just needs some help…"

"CJ, he almost strangled you to death." Lancelot sighed.

"Yes, and now I know what to expect. So, the next time he starts tossing in his sleep again, I'll just wake the others up and keep my distance, how about that?" CJ suggested.

"Too risky." Lancelot shook his head before Ben or Mal had the chance to answer. "There's always the chance you'll be asleep when the episode commences, or you might not be able to make it out in time. I don't like it any more than you do, but Archer needs to be isolated until we can say with at least a significant level of certainty that he is cured."

"But he can be cured?" Ben inquired before CJ could offer more protests.

"All magic ailments can be cured." Lancelot stated with confidence. "However, a spell as malicious and impactful as this one requires time, energy and a lot of research to heal. I will first have to find out specifically what spell we are dealing with, then figure what the best course for treatment is…"

"How long will that all take?" CJ asked in an impatient tone.

Lancelot shrugged. "It could be months. In all fairness, after what he went through, it's a small miracle Archer is speaking, let alone walking, running or fighting… He should already feel extremely blessed… We need to be patient…"

"Screw that! Archer has broken free from Solomon, resisted him, and he deserves to not be bothered by that asshole anymore!" CJ ranted, obviously furious at the injustice that was done upon Archer.

"We all wholeheartedly agree with that." Ben tried to reassure her. "But we do need to stay realistic here, CJ, and make sure no one else gets hurt…"

"CJ…" Archer finally spoke up again, making everyone look at him. "I don't want to hurt anyone, you in particular. If I need to step away in order to not further endanger anyone, then that is what I'll do…"

"Not. A. Chance." CJ snapped, articulating each word clearly and confidently. "I'm staying with you."

Everyone stayed silent for about half a minute after CJ's passionate declaration. Archer could not keep his eyes off of hers, and he felt as though he had never loved her as much as in that moment.

"What do you need, Lance, to cure Archer, I mean…" Mal then spoke up for the first time.

"Well, ehm…" Lancelot began. "I'd first need to specifically determine the spell Solomon used to revive Archer. There are a few that fall into that category, with different ingredients and incantations, and the like… We'd need to perform a detailed examination of Archer, both physically and mentally, to decide what his best chance of recuperation could be… Only then can we start to actively cure him… It's a long process… Dark magic is not fun…"

"Do we have any information on dark spells like this? In mom's library perhaps?" Ben suggested.

"I highly doubt it." Answered Lancelot. "Only the likes of Yen Sid or Merlin could possibly have any material related to practices this malicious. I cannot think of any magic users powerful or wicked enough to possess knowledge like this."

"Well…" Mal began, nudging her head slightly. "There's always Solomon…"

"What!?" Everyone exclaimed.

"I mean, he is alive. We have access to him. And who better to tell us about the spell used on Archer than the person who cast the spell?" Mal explained.

"Like he would ever help us." CJ scoffed. "We beat him and threw him in a dungeon. We took away his magical abilities. He hates us!"

"I'm not saying he gives us the information out of the goodness of his heart…" Mal contemplated. "But he is our prisoner, no? Could we not force him to tell us or something?"

"You're not actually suggesting we torture someone, right, Mal?" Ben asked with a hint of fear in his voice.

"Look, I just want Archer to get better." Mal defended herself, looking at Archer. "And if anyone deserves to be tortured, it's Solomon."

"Still…" Ben mumbled.

"Torture might not be necessary." Lancelot stroked his chin. "There are spells and potions and the like that could make a person tell the truth. We have used them before in interrogations and high-profile court cases, but usually only at the behest of our ruling monarchs."

"Wow, lookie who is sitting right over here." CJ said in a sarcastic tone, gesturing at Ben.

Ben bit his lip, looking a little uncomfortable. "You would be able to perform a spell like this, or brew a potion that would have the same effect?" He asked Lancelot.

"I'd need a day or so to prepare, but yes. Though there are other magically adept individuals you might like to consider." Lancelot proposed.

"No." Archer spoke up. "I'd feel most assured if it'd be you, Lance. There's no one I'd rather put my faith in."

Lancelot notably gulped, but also nodded.

"So, that's that then? We turn to Solomon for aid… What has the world come to?" Ben muttered, mostly to himself.

The others mumbled in agreement. Archer nervously rubbed his hands under the table, trying not to show how apprehensive he felt about having to once again confront the person who had caused him and his friends so much misery.

"There is slight cause for optimism though…" Lancelot then said, looking somewhat nervously from one person onto the next. "During his episode, like CJ said, Archer's eyes glowed. I saw it myself. It was identical to the way your eyes would sometimes glow when you still wielded Excalibur." He then directed himself to Archer.

"So?" Archer inquired. "What does that mean?"

"It means…" Lancelot began with a bit of a sigh, obviously a little annoyed that Archer was not excited or intrigued by that revelation. "That there is still magic inside you. We always theorized that Excalibur granted you certain abilities, but what if the sword was simply a conduit through which you could channel your own powers?"

Archer scoffed at the suggestion. "Lance, I've never been able to do anything of the sort without Excalibur."

"Because you never even tried." Lancelot enthusiastically stated. "In all honesty, I never considered it either! But last night, we were both proven wrong. The glowing of your eyes, and the strength that accompanied it, are both signs of magical prowess… I know you've been struggling ever since you were revived, but who knows? If you are trained properly, you could become more powerful than ever…"

Archer didn't want to show it, but he felt his heart practically glow at the thought. He had tried to hide his insecurities about his new lack of strength and fighting ability from everyone, even CJ, and the idea he could somehow return to his best, or become even stronger, lit a spark inside him that was impossible to ignore.