Charmed: Elizabeth Turner

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

Born with a sense of otherness, Elizabeth 'Buffy' Turner navigates her dual nature as a half-demon alongside her brother Cole, training rigorously to harness her powers while yearning for a life beyond servitude to the dark forces shaping their destiny.

33. Chapter 33: Anne's Knight 2 Remember Pt2

Chapter 33: Anne's Knight to Remember Part 2

October 17, 1350 – Wednesday

Royal Castle

The Evil Enchantress lay sprawled across her grand four-poster bed, the deep crimson silk sheets pooling around her like liquid fire. Her raven-black hair cascaded over the plush pillows, framing her delicate yet wickedly sharp features. A smirk of satisfaction curled on her lips as she gazed up at the Prince, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the flickering candlelight. His eyes, warm and entranced, held hers in a moment of silent promise.

But then—without warning—a sudden gust of wind ripped through the chamber, howling like a vengeful spirit. The candles extinguished instantly, plunging the room into shifting shadows as a violent, tornado-like force wrapped itself around the Prince.

His expression twisted from adoration to alarm as the swirling vortex lifted him from the bed, yanking him away with a ferocity that defied nature. His hands stretched toward the Enchantress, fingers grasping for her, but he was already being consumed, vanishing into the eye of the churning storm.

The Enchantress's eyes widened in horror. "NO!" she screamed, her voice raw with desperation as she bolted upright. Her hands clawed at the empty space where he had been, but there was nothing—no lingering warmth, no trace of his presence.

August 14, 1998 – Friday

Abandoned Building

Cole shimmered into the abandoned building, immediately greeted by the pungent smell of decay and neglect. The air was thick with dust, and the room was swathed in shadows. The walls were crumbling, chipped paint peeling off in jagged strips, leaving exposed wood and brick. It was a grimy, forsaken place that had clearly been left to rot for years, untouched by the outside world. The only source of light came from the weak beams of sunlight that filtered through the cracked, boarded-up windows, casting long, eerie shadows across the floor. The building felt like a tomb, every creaking floorboard beneath Cole's feet seeming to whisper the ghosts of its forgotten past.

He moved cautiously, stepping over debris and the occasional broken glass shard, his eyes scanning every darkened corner as he made his way deeper into the building. His mind was fixed on finding Rickie, Lily's boyfriend, and getting some answers. Every step echoed in the silence, the stillness heavy in the air.

As Cole passed into another room, he noticed a figure standing in the doorway. The old man was bent with age, his face weathered and hardened. His eyes, hollow and filled with suspicion, fixed on Cole as he moved past him, but there was no challenge in the old man's gaze—just a cold, knowing stare. He was like a relic of the building itself, a forgotten soul that had somehow remained in the midst of its rot and ruin.

Without sparing the man another glance, Cole pressed on, moving through a hole in the wall that had long since replaced a door. He stepped into a small, dimly lit room, the smell of something acrid and chemical hanging in the air. His eyes immediately landed on the corner of the room, where an old man lay slumped against the wall, motionless. The sight stopped Cole in his tracks. There was something about the position of the body—unnatural, stiff—that immediately told him something was wrong.

The man was dead.

Cole's gaze shifted, and he saw the bottle of drain cleaner lying next to the body, its label half-obscured by the grime that coated everything. It looked like a suicide, but Cole wasn't one to jump to conclusions. He stepped closer, kneeling beside the body. Reaching down, he gently grabbed the old man's wrist, feeling for a pulse. But there was nothing—no faint flutter, no warmth of life left.

Dead.

His fingers lingered for a moment longer before he straightened, scanning the room, his mind racing for any other clues. That's when he noticed something strange on the old man's arm. A tattoo. The ink was faded and worn from age, but the design was unmistakable—an intricate symbol that matched the one Lily had described Rickie having.

"Rickie…" Cole whispered softly, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. This was the man. The one Lily had been searching for.

The weight of the moment pressed down on him as he closed his eyes, his mind reaching out through the psychic link he and Buffy had always shared since they were children. It was an instinct, one that had always been there for as long as they could remember—a connection that spanned distance, time, and even the barriers of the physical world. He could feel her on the other side, her presence familiar and comforting, even through the urgency of the situation.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, his voice quiet but insistent.

The air around him shimmered, and in an instant, Buffy appeared beside him, her figure materializing as though she had always been there. Her sharp, blue eyes took in the grim surroundings, noting the death, the body, and the signs of struggle in the room before settling on her brother.

"I think I found Lily's boyfriend," Cole said grimly, gesturing toward the dead man's body. His voice was thick with the weight of his discovery, and his hand hovered slightly, as if uncertain how to explain the brutal truth.

Buffy's eyes locked onto the tattoo on the old man's arm, and her expression shifted. She didn't need to ask. She knew who the man was, or rather, who he had been. There was no denying it now. "Rickie," she murmured, her voice almost a whisper as she crossed the room to examine the body herself.

Halliwell Manor

The four sisters jerked their heads up from the Book of Shadows as a fierce howling wind suddenly whipped through the attic, rattling the windows and sending loose pages fluttering. The energy in the room crackled, thick with unseen magic, as a swirling cyclone of shimmering air materialized before them.

Their breaths caught in their throats as the vortex twisted and shifted, tendrils of light spiraling within it. Slowly, a figure began to take shape at its center, his form solidifying with each passing second. And then—just as quickly as it had appeared—the wind died down, leaving behind an eerie stillness in its wake.

Standing there, bathed in the attic's warm candlelight, was a strikingly handsome man. His sandy blonde-brown hair was tousled from the supernatural journey, and his sharp, chiseled features were framed by the glinting steel of chainmail armor. A sword hung at his side, its hilt gleaming with intricate engravings. His eyes, deep and filled with wonder, swept across the room as he took in his unfamiliar surroundings.

The Halliwell sisters could do nothing but gape. Their jaws hung open in synchronized shock, speechless as they processed the man's sudden and dramatic arrival.

Then, as if he had found exactly what he was searching for, his gaze landed on Paige. The moment their eyes met; his expression softened into something reverent, almost worshipful. Without hesitation, he dropped to one knee before her, his movements fluid and full of purpose.

"My love." His voice was rich, deep, and laced with an old-world accent, thick with devotion as he bowed his head in utter submission.

Paige's entire body stiffened. Her breath hitched; her eyes impossibly wide as she stared down at the stranger who had just materialized out of thin air. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Beside her, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe slowly turned their heads to look at one another, then—as if they had all come to the same conclusion—they pivoted in perfect unison to face Paige. Hands instantly flew to their hips, their expressions morphing into a mix of exasperation and accusation.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Paige's heart pounded as she sprinted into the kitchen, her breath coming in sharp bursts. The cool tile underfoot did nothing to ground her as she darted around the center island, her eyes darting wildly for an escape.

"Why do you run from me?" the handsome Prince questioned as he strode in after her, his long legs making it far too easy for him to keep up. His voice was rich and velvety, filled with confidence, his movements fluid and sure—like a man who had never once been denied anything in his life.

"Why are you chasing me!?" Paige shot back, her voice high-pitched with exasperation as she skidded to the other side of the island, keeping it between them like a lifeline.

The Prince smiled, utterly unfazed by her distress. "Because we are meant to be together," he informed her smoothly, as if that settled the matter entirely.

Paige huffed in disbelief, her wild eyes flicking to the kitchen doorway just as her three sisters burst in behind them, giggling like a trio of mischievous schoolgirls. Their smirks were positively infuriating.

"That is not true!" Paige snapped, throwing her arms out in frustration as she continued circling the island, putting as much distance between herself and the determined Prince as possible. "Does this look like King Arthur's court to you?" She gestured dramatically to the modern kitchen with its sleek countertops and stainless-steel appliances.

The Prince barely spared their surroundings a glance, his deep-set eyes fixed solely on her. "It doesn't matter," he replied, shaking his head, his tone firm with unwavering belief. "We are destined to conceive an heir, my love."

At this declaration, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe completely lost it. Laughter erupted from all three of them, their giggles quickly turning into full-blown cackles as they doubled over in amusement.

"Oh my God!" Paige shrieked, her face burning as she slapped her hands over her ears. "Stop saying that!"

Grams and Patty entered just in time to witness the scene unfolding, and the two older women exchanged knowing, highly amused looks.

Still breathless from laughter, Phoebe wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and smirked at Paige. "You guys want some privacy?" she teased, waving a hand between Paige and the Prince suggestively.

Paige's head snapped toward her sister; her glare fiery. "This is not funny!" she shouted, her voice pitched with barely restrained hysteria.

The Prince, completely oblivious to her distress, had successfully cornered Paige against the wall. His eyes gleamed with victory as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming.

Panic flared in Paige's chest, and she whirled toward the kitchen table. "Plate!" she called out desperately, and a ceramic dish shimmered into existence between her hands, glowing momentarily with blue-white orbing lights before solidifying. Without hesitation, she brought it down with a crack over the Prince's head.

"OH!" Prue, Piper, and Phoebe chorused in dramatic unison as the Prince crumpled to his knees before their youngest sister.

"Paige!" Grams and Patty gasped; their voices laced with reprimand.

Paige winced, holding the broken edges of the plate in her hands as guilt flickered across her face. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, peering down at the dazed Prince. Her voice softened just slightly. "Did I hurt you?"

The Prince, unfazed as ever, looked up at her with a dazzling smile. "You could never hurt me, my love." And before she could stop him, he took her hand in his own, pressing a reverent kiss to her fingers.

Paige let out a strangled noise somewhere between frustration and panic, her wide eyes snapping to Piper. "Piper, do that thing you do!" she begged, flailing an arm at the smugly devoted Prince.

Piper smirked, crossing her arms. "I… I don't want to blow him up." She grinned, thoroughly enjoying her little sister's predicament.

Paige's glare sharpened, her patience fraying at the edges. "Well, risk it!" she snapped, her voice rising in frustration. "He's using his tongue!"

"Ew!" Phoebe recoiled in horror, her face twisting in exaggerated disgust.

Beside her, Prue lost all composure, burying her face into Phoebe's shoulder, her entire body trembling as she tried—unsuccessfully—to stifle her laughter.

Piper, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, smirked and flicked her wrist with an effortless wave, freezing the Prince mid-motion. His ardent expression remained frozen in time, lips pursed, hand outstretched toward Paige like a living statue of misplaced devotion.

The moment the spell took hold, Piper turned back to her sisters, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. Prue clutched onto her wrist for support, both of them shaking with amusement.

Phoebe tried to maintain some semblance of composure, biting her lip, but her whole body quivered from the force of her silent giggles.

Paige, meanwhile, was desperately trying to shake off the lingering sensation of the unwanted kiss. She shuddered, rubbing the back of her hand fiercely against her sleeve as if she could scrub away the memory. "Thank God chivalry is dead," she muttered, her tone dripping with exasperation. Turning toward her still-laughing sisters, she scowled. "He is getting on my last nerve."

Piper and Prue were practically doubled over at this point, their laughter only intensifying at Paige's misery. Phoebe, attempting to remain sympathetic, pressed her lips together, but her shoulders still trembled with the effort to keep from bursting out laughing.

Paige narrowed her eyes at the three of them. "I hate you all," she declared dramatically before sticking her tongue out like a petulant child.

Across the room, Penny rolled her eyes at the scene unfolding before her. "He must be under some sort of spell," she announced, stepping toward Paige, her voice full of knowing authority. Her sharp gaze flicked to the Prince, still locked in place, then back to her granddaughter. "It's the only explanation for his strange…" She hesitated, eyeing the man with mild disdain. "…devotion."

From behind her, Piper's voice rang out, thick with sarcasm. "Gee, you think?"

Paige sighed, crossing her arms. "It's the Evil Enchantress," she stated matter-of-factly. "She cast a love spell on him."

Prue frowned, her sharp mind working through the pieces. "So… why is Sir Lust-A-Lot lusting after you?" she asked, her gaze narrowing suspiciously at the enchanted Prince.

Paige threw her arms up. "How should I know?" she snapped impatiently, clearly at the end of her rope.

Piper huffed, crossing her arms in amusement. "Well, because it's your damn fairytale," she shot back. "And it's alive and frozen in our kitchen." A smirk played on her lips as she gestured toward the very real evidence standing stiffly in their midst.

Paige inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain calm, then rolled her eyes in exasperation before abruptly turning on her heel. Without another word, she stormed past her sisters and out of the kitchen.

Piper's expression darkened, her amusement fading into irritation. "Oh, no, you don't," she muttered under her breath, while Prue's brows shot up, incredulous.

Phoebe, who had been watching Paige closely, frowned and called after her. "Where are you going?" She quickly took off in pursuit, her concern evident.

Paige didn't break stride, throwing her hands up dramatically. "I cannot handle this," she declared, her voice strained with overwhelming frustration.

Prue and Piper remained rooted in place for several seconds, exchanging looks, before they too turned and followed after their younger sisters.

"Wait, Paige! You can't just leave!" Piper scolded as they caught up with her near the front door.

Paige barely glanced back; her expression set in stubborn determination. "Yes, I can." She yanked the door open. "I don't live here."

Phoebe sighed, stepping forward, trying to keep her voice calm. "Paige."

Paige turned; her stance defensive. "What?" she demanded sharply.

Phoebe met her gaze with quiet intensity. "Look, you can't keep running away from these things." Her voice softened, laced with understanding. "That's what we were trying to tell you. Being a witch isn't a part-time job."

Paige hesitated for only a second before she shook her head, resolute. "Well, if I don't leave now, I'm not gonna have a full-time job." Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode out the door.

The slam of it echoed through the house.

Prue's jaw clenched as frustration surged within her, and before she could stop herself, she strode forward, her voice ringing with authority. "PAIGE!"

Paige froze mid-step. Her shoulders tensed as she slowly turned around, meeting her eldest sister's fierce gaze.

"The Charmed Ones come first." Prue's words were sharp, unwavering, laced with something undeniable—expectation.

For a long moment, silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. Then Paige inhaled deeply and exhaled in quiet resignation. "I'm sorry, Prue." Her voice was softer this time, almost hesitant, as if she wanted to mean it but wasn't quite sure.

Without waiting for a response, she turned away, her steps faltering just slightly as she stomped toward her car.

Prue, Piper, and Phoebe stood motionless in the doorway, watching as Paige disappeared down the driveway, a stunned silence settling over them.

"Well..." Grams' voice cut through the tension like a blade, her tone thick with sarcasm. "...that was very successful. Well done, girls." She folded her arms, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at the three sisters.

Phoebe rolled her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips. Piper clenched her fists at her sides, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. Prue, on the other hand, was nearly vibrating with rage, her teeth grinding together audibly.

"Ooh!" Prue seethed, spinning on her heel and slamming the door shut with enough force to rattle the frame. "I am gonna kill that girl!"

Phoebe shook her head, lifting her hands in protest. "No. No, Prue, don't do that." She shot her a pointed look, though the amusement in her voice betrayed her.

Piper, however, smirked and casually linked her arm through Prue's, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Hey, I'm all for it," she teased.

Prue chuckled despite herself, shaking her head.

Just then, a smooth, disembodied voice echoed from the living room.

"The home also features a spacious kitchen, complete with granite countertops and a state-of-the-art convection oven."

All three sisters froze, their playful banter dying instantly. They exchanged alarmed looks before rushing into the living room.

Prue frowned at the flickering television screen. "The VCR?" she muttered, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Piper stepped closer, glancing at the machine warily. "Who set it to record?" she asked, slowly reaching toward it.

Before anyone could answer, the tape ejected violently, flying out like it had been spat from the machine.

A split second later, the Shocker Demon exploded forth in a crackling burst of blue electricity, its body pulsing with raw energy.

The sisters barely had time to react.

Phoebe's breath hitched, her entire body freezing up as she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable jolt.

Piper flung out her hands instinctively, aiming to freeze the creature—but her timing was off. The shimmering field of her power expanded too late, missing the demon entirely and instead encasing the TV in a thick layer of frozen stasis.

"OH!" Prue shouted, her eyes widening in horror as the demon zipped wildly around the room.

Acting fast, she lunged at Piper, grabbing her hands and yanking them down before she could accidentally freeze anything else.

"Look out!" Phoebe shrieked, her voice high with urgency as the Shocker Demon shot past their feet and streaked out into the hallway.

The creature twisted in the air, rising to its full, towering height. Sparks crackled dangerously across its shifting form, illuminating the walls with eerie, flickering light.

Phoebe swallowed hard. "Uh-oh."

Without hesitation, the demon unleashed a searing bolt of electricity, striking Prue dead-on.

The force sent her flying backward, her body slamming into a set of thin wooden shelves by the window. She crashed down behind the overstuffed chair with a heavy thud, books and knickknacks scattering in her wake.

"Oh no!" Piper cried out, sprinting toward her fallen sister.

Before she could reach her, Phoebe reacted, leaping high into the air in a perfectly executed levitation kick, her foot connecting solidly with the demon's head.

For a brief second, she looked triumphant.

Then, disaster struck.

A surge of raw electricity pulsed from the demon's body, engulfing Phoebe in a blinding flash. Her body seized violently, convulsing in mid-air as the energy wracked through her system.

Piper's eyes went wide with horror. "Oh, crap!" she gasped.

Thinking fast, she bolted through the dining room, scanning frantically for anything that could help. Her gaze landed on a metal coat hanger, and without hesitation, she grabbed it.

Spinning on her heel, she charged forward and rammed the hanger straight through the Shocker Demon's crackling form, momentarily dispersing its energy. The action instantly freed Phoebe from its electric grip, sending her plummeting downward.

With a yelp, Phoebe crashed onto the floor, landing hard on her back.

Piper exhaled sharply, letting the coat hanger drop from her hands as she blew a loose strand of hair from her face.

From behind the chair, Prue groaned. "Ow," she gasped, pushing herself to her feet. She stumbled slightly, then shook it off and hurried over to Phoebe, gripping her sister's arms and hauling her upright.

Phoebe, still buzzing from the residual electricity, let out a loud, dramatic "Ow! Ow! Ow!" as she swayed slightly on her feet.

Prue rolled her neck, grimacing as a series of sharp cracking sounds echoed through the room. She winced. "Oh, not good."

Piper smirked, her lips curving into a dry, knowing smile. She spread her arms in an exaggerated flourish. "Well, that was fun!" she declared with false enthusiasm, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Prue shot her a look before shaking her head and turning to her sisters. "I can't get married with a Shocker Demon in the house." Her voice was flat, but the underlying exasperation was clear.

Phoebe, who had been rubbing her arms in an attempt to shake off the lingering effects of the electrocution, suddenly froze. Her eyes went wide, panic flashing across her face.

"We've got to convince Paige to move in with us soon, before there's nobody left to move in with," Piper added, her frown deepening. She crossed her arms, the stress of the situation evident in the tight set of her shoulders.

Patty, who had been quietly observing the conversation, finally spoke up. Her voice was gentle but firm. "You can't force her to do something that she isn't ready to do, Piper."

Piper arched an eyebrow, fixing her mother with a determined look. "Oh, really?" She tilted her head, challenging. "Watch me."

Before the tension could escalate further, Phoebe jumped in, eager to redirect the conversation. "Guess we need a new TV," she interjected, her voice light but purposeful.

Prue suddenly inhaled sharply, eyes widening as if she had just remembered something crucial. "Oh no!" she gasped, her gaze snapping toward the kitchen.

Piper and Phoebe followed her line of sight, alarm spreading across their faces.

"The Prince!" they exclaimed in unison before taking off toward the kitchen in a blur of movement.

They skidded to a stop just inside the doorway, scanning the space frantically.

"He's gone?" Phoebe asked uncertainly, her gaze darting around the room as if the Prince might suddenly reappear from behind a cabinet. "What? Did he go back to fairytale land?"

Prue had already stepped past them, moving toward the back of the house with an almost instinctive sense of dread. She disappeared into the utility room for a beat, then re-emerged with a grim expression. "No such luck. The back door is wide open." She lifted a hand and gestured toward it.

The implication settled over them like a thick fog.

"So... he probably went after Paige." Prue concluded, nodding once in affirmation.

Piper exhaled sharply, her shoulders slumping as she leaned against the counter. "He left?" She ran a hand through her hair, looking momentarily exhausted.

Phoebe, unfazed, had wandered over to the fridge, rummaging inside as she mused aloud. "So... he's just wandering around in chainmail?"

Piper shrugged, a glimmer of amusement breaking through her exasperation. "It's San Francisco. Nobody will notice."

Prue let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head.

Phoebe pulled out a bottle of water and twisted off the cap, still unconvinced. "Well, sooner or later, someone's gonna notice," she pointed out before taking a sip.

Prue sighed, already anticipating the inevitable fallout. "And the medieval trail is gonna lead them right back to us."

Phoebe nodded vigorously in agreement.

Piper straightened, rolling her shoulders as she took charge. "Alright," she said decisively. "You try scrying for him, and if that doesn't work, I'll have Leo orb Paige back here. Hopefully, the Prince will follow." She lifted her hands in a half-hearted shrug, hoping for the best.

Prue scoffed, crossing her arms. "Uh... maybe we should try a different approach with her." Her voice was dry, laced with skepticism.

Piper immediately shook her head, her expression firm. "She is not gonna come back here voluntarily."

Prue rolled her eyes and shot her a 'well duh' look. "Not about that," she clarified, her tone patient but pointed. "About getting her to move in. Maybe... it's too soon for her too."

Summers Home

Cole shimmered into the living room, his presence almost like a ripple in the air, soft yet undeniable. The room was quiet, save for the faint sound of Lily's steady breathing, her gaze fixed on Joyce. She sat next to her, a fragile thread of comfort between them, but the tension was palpable, like the air before a storm.

"Did you find Rickie?" Lily's voice was tentative, but there was a flicker of hope in it, a hope that Cole couldn't bear to extinguish just yet. She leaned forward, eyes searching him, perhaps for a hint, a gesture that would signal the answer she desperately wanted to hear. "I thought of… he likes to go to this movie house, you can get in the back—"

"Lily," Cole interrupted, his tone gentle but firm, as if preparing her for the inevitable. He settled on the coffee table in front of them, the movement deliberate, the weight of the moment hanging heavily between them. "Elizabeth and I think… that he's dead."

The words hung in the air, cold and final. Lily's breath caught in her throat, her body going rigid. Her eyes, bright with unshed tears, began to glisten with the weight of his revelation. She blinked rapidly, the tears threatening to spill, but she didn't let them fall—not yet. "But…" Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper, as if speaking the truth aloud might make it even more real. "He takes care of me…"

"I'm sorry," Cole said softly, his gaze briefly shifting to Joyce. He knew how much this meant to Lily, how deep her connection with Rickie had been. He could see it in her eyes, the devastation that was taking hold of her, and he felt the weight of that loss like an anchor in his chest. The empathy was suffocating, but there was nothing more to say.

Joyce, ever the supportive figure, placed a hand on Lily's arm, her touch a quiet gesture of comfort in the face of the painful truth. She didn't need words to convey her sympathy, her hand resting gently against Lily's skin was enough to show that she was there, that she would help carry the burden in whatever way she could.

Lily's voice trembled as she tried to make sense of it, her mind clinging to hope, to any sliver of possibility that would undo what Cole had said. "We're gonna get a place, his cousin could get him a job at the car wash…" Her words were tentative, almost childlike in their desperation, as though she could wish things back to the way they were with enough willpower.

"Lily. Something's happening," Cole said, his voice quiet but insistent. His words cut through the fragile thread of hope that had begun to form, and he could see the struggle within her—her heart wanting to believe, but her mind starting to question the very reality in front of her. "The person I found was old, he looked about eighty—"

"Well, that's not Rickie—" Lily interjected immediately, her voice rising slightly, panic setting in. The idea of the person Cole had found being anything other than Rickie was unthinkable to her, a harsh and impossible reality she refused to accept.

"I'm sure it was," Cole replied, his voice unwavering despite the storm of emotion swirling around them. He had seen what he had seen, and while the situation defied all logic, he couldn't let that moment of certainty slip away. He wouldn't.

"Cole," Joyce spoke up, her voice cautious but laced with concern. "How is that possible?" Her question hung in the air like an open wound, the answer elusive and difficult.

"There are other planes out there where time moves differently," Cole explained, his words deliberate, as though each one held weight. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration simmering beneath the calm exterior. "If Rickie somehow found his way to one of those… He might have spent decades there while only hours passed here." The explanation was far-fetched, but it was the only one that made any sense. "Elizabeth is trying to determine if that is what happened and how."

The room fell into a heavy silence, as if time itself had slowed to accommodate the gravity of what Cole had said. The air felt thick with unspoken thoughts, but Lily was the first to break the silence. "I don't understand…" Her voice wavered, barely above a whisper, as she shook her head, her eyes darting between Cole and Joyce in confusion. "Maybe it's not Rickie, okay?"

The hope that had flickered briefly was now dimming in her eyes. She seemed almost frantic, grasping for an explanation that could undo the hurt, that could erase the possibility that she might never see Rickie again.

"Lily," Joyce began, her voice gentle, but firm in its attempt to bring her back to reality, to steady her in the face of this overwhelming news.

"But he didn't do anything wrong, why would—" Lily trailed off, her voice faltering as her mind grasped for something to hold onto. A thought crossed her mind, and she stood abruptly, her gaze distant as she tried to make sense of the storm of emotions crashing inside her. Her words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. "Is it because of Buffy?"

"What?" Cole asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, as he tried to piece together the connection Lily was drawing. His mind raced, wondering how his sister could possibly be involved in this situation.

Lily's gaze dropped to the floor, her fingers curling tightly into fists at her sides as she struggled with the truth. "You know about… monsters and stuff, this could have happened because of her…" Her words were rushed, as if they were too painful to voice, and she couldn't contain the growing panic any longer. She turned on her heel and fled out the front door, unable to face the reality any longer. Her chest heaved with emotion as she escaped the room, her feet carrying her away from everything that threatened to crush her.

"Lily—" Cole called after her, his voice strained, but it was too late. She was already gone, leaving nothing but a hollow silence in her wake.

October 17, 1350 – Wednesday

Royal Castle

"I have one question." Lady Julia's voice cut through the thick, oppressive air of the chamber as she stood behind her prison bars. Her posture was proud, defiant, as her eyes flicked toward the Evil Enchantress with a knowing glint. She had the demeanor of a woman who had faced far worse than the cold, iron bars surrounding her. "If good magic rescued my Prince from you, what makes you think he'll return?" Her words hung in the air, thick with the sharp edge of challenge.

The Evil Enchantress, ever composed in the face of such defiance, stood up slowly, the dark shadows of the room seeming to stretch along with her, as if they were drawn to her malevolent presence. "I don't," she answered simply, her voice low, but chillingly certain. Her eyes narrowed with cold purpose, and her lips curled into a sinister smirk. "That's why I plan on following his footsteps and bringing him back, after I destroy the good magic that intervened, of course." Her gaze held a venomous glint, as though she could already taste the success of her twisted intentions.

Lady Julia's lips curled into a mocking smile, and she bit back a scoff. She had faced the worst of life's cruelties, and a threat from this wretched sorceress was nothing more than a fleeting shadow in her mind. "And what makes you think you can?" Her voice dripped with disdain, like a queen who had long been accustomed to controlling the fate of those who dared to challenge her.

The Evil Enchantress, unfazed by the challenge, took a deliberate step forward, her heels clicking menacingly against the stone floor. As she approached, a dangerous calm settled over her. With a wave of her hand, the bars that separated them from one another rose effortlessly, as though they were nothing more than flimsy reeds in the wind. "Oh...I don't know," she purred, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. She walked up to Lady Julia, her eyes gleaming darkly, and with the delicate touch of her fingers, she toyed with an athame—its blade twisted and sharp, catching the faint light in a gleam of malicious delight. "Because I'm petty and evil and vindictive." Her lips curled further as she pressed the blade, its cold tip hovering just inches from Lady Julia's throat. "But most of all...I'm determined."

Her words were a promise, heavy with the weight of evil, and as she rested the sharp point against the Maiden's delicate skin, the sound of her heartbeat was almost deafening in the silence. The tension in the room was thick, like an approaching storm ready to burst.

Lady Julia, however, was not intimidated. She stood tall and unyielding, even with the blade so near. Her eyes burned with the fire of defiance, and her lips quirked into a smug smile, as if she already held the upper hand. "I am the object of his true love." Her voice was strong, full of pride and unshakable certainty. "Your spell only appropriated it. Kill me, and you break the spell."

The Evil Enchantress' smile remained, but it was laced with a quiet malice, an understanding of exactly what Lady Julia was saying—but she had no intentions of being swayed. "I know," she said softly, her voice like a velvet whisper that carried an unmistakable cruelty. She took the lock of hair in her hand, her fingers tracing through the strands with unnerving tenderness before she swiftly, expertly, severed it with the gleaming blade of the athame. "I know," she repeated, the words more sinister now. She held the lock of hair up, her eyes flicking back to Lady Julia's with a glint of satisfaction. "That's why I needed this for my potion to work."

Without another word, she spun on her heel, moving with an almost serpentine grace as she dropped the severed lock of hair into the bubbling cauldron that sat on a nearby stone pedestal. The air in the room seemed to hum with energy, a flicker of magical power snapping through the air. A small explosion of color erupted from the potion, casting a brief, iridescent glow across the darkened room. The enchantress' face lit up with a malevolent smile as she watched the reaction, her eyes glinting with victory.

Before Lady Julia could react, the bars of the cell slammed back down with an almost deafening clang. The swift motion left no room for escape. Lady Julia, enraged and helpless, walked towards the bars, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared hatefully at the woman who had bound her so ruthlessly.

"You cannot do this!" she cried, her voice filled with fury. Her body was tense, every muscle straining with the desire to break free, but she was trapped. Trapped by magic, trapped by fate.

The Evil Enchantress turned slowly, her movements deliberate and full of dark intent. She stared at Lady Julia for a long moment, her gaze icy and filled with contempt. "One thing you need to know about me, Lady Julia," she said, her voice dangerously calm. Her eyes were cold as stone as she met the Maiden's glare. "Nobody tells me what to do." Her words were laced with venom, her features darkening as the finality of the sentence echoed in the air.

Lady Julia sighed in frustration, the weight of the situation crashing down on her as she watched the Evil Enchantress relish in her power. The Enchantress' smile never wavered as she added a final dose to her potion, her face lighting up in sadistic satisfaction as the concoction roiled and bubbled with unnatural energy. She watched with pleasure as it created another small explosion of magic, the colors shifting in ways that spoke of ancient, forbidden spells.

August 14, 1998 – Friday

South Bay Social Services

"Nobody tells me what to do, Leo," Paige said firmly, her voice laced with an intensity that made it clear she wasn't backing down. She moved around the cramped copy machine room, the hum of machinery buzzing in the background as she paced, clearly agitated. "And besides, I'm still mad at you for watching over me. I deserve better than that, especially from you." Her tone was sharp, almost defensive, as if the weight of his well-meaning intentions had become too much to bear.

Leo's face softened, but his frown deepened. He sighed, a gentle exhale that carried both concern and regret. "Well, I'm a guardian, Paige. It's what I do," he replied, his voice steady and patient, though tinged with a hint of frustration. "Especially during times like this when it's dangerous for you to be alone." His words were wrapped in a quiet kindness, as though he were trying to remind her of the protective role he played, not just as a guardian, but as someone who cared deeply for her safety.

Paige frowned slightly, her eyes narrowing as she processed his words. Her expression was one of skepticism, but also a little irritation. "It's a fairytale, not a horror movie," she retorted, as if trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation. Her attempt to brush off the danger didn't quite ring true, but she needed something to hold onto, something to convince herself that everything would be fine, even if it wasn't.

Leo repressed the urge to roll his eyes. He had heard this argument too many times, but instead, he leaned in a little, his voice lowering just slightly, his words coming out with a touch of exasperation. "I was talking about the Shocker demon," he corrected her swiftly, making sure she understood the real threat wasn't some mythical prince or fairy tale villain—it was the tangible danger that could destroy her if she wasn't careful.

Paige paused, her lips pressing into a thin line as the weight of his words settled on her. For a moment, there was silence between them, the air thick with tension. Then, she shrugged, her defiance still evident in the way she carried herself. "Yeah, well, he's not half as scary as Prince Charming coming after me," she said, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. She tried to convince herself that the dangers of her new life weren't all that serious, even if deep down, she knew better.

Leo's expression softened, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. He took a step closer, his tone gentle but firm. "All the more reason you should be staying with Prue, Piper, and Phoebe," he pointed out, his words a quiet plea for her to make the safe choice, the smart choice. His gaze met hers, his sincerity evident, as though he knew this was the only way to keep her safe from both the physical and emotional dangers that surrounded her.

Paige turned to him abruptly, her shoulders stiffening as she met his gaze. "What if I don't want to?" she challenged, her voice growing louder, the frustration that had been building finally spilling over. The argument had become a familiar, repetitive loop, one she was tired of having. "What if I wanna..." She paused, her hands flailing in the air as if to illustrate her point, "Climb a mountain or...go dive the Great Barrier Reef, huh?" She threw out the examples like they were some sort of wild fantasy, an escape from the life she had been thrust into.

Leo blinked, clearly thrown by her sudden outburst. He stood there for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion, unable to quite grasp what she was suggesting. "What?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine bewilderment, not understanding how mountain climbing or diving would solve anything.

Paige rolled her eyes and waved him off, her frustration bubbling over in a dismissive gesture. "Never mind," she muttered, turning away from him for a moment before continuing. "Look, I've had a blast being a witch. I like the spells, like the potions. I'm even getting used to orbing." She ticked off the positives, her voice softening a little as she admitted to enjoying some aspects of her new life. But then, her expression shifted, and the air around her seemed to grow heavy with the weight of her dissatisfaction. "But god!" she continued, her voice breaking slightly with the strain of it all, "I've just had enough." She barged past him, her frustration spilling out in her every movement, the tension in her shoulders clear as she exited the room.

Leo sighed, watching her go with a mixture of empathy and helplessness. He understood where she was coming from—he really did—but he knew the path she was on didn't allow for much room to escape. "Well, there is no enough, Paige," he said softly, his voice heavy with the inevitability of the situation. "This is who you are now," he explained, his words kind but firm. "You know that. Why are you running from it?" His question hung in the air, weighted with concern, as if he were trying to understand why she couldn't accept what had become her reality.

Paige faltered, her body stilling for a moment as she considered his question. Her eyes met his, and she didn't need to say anything for him to see the conflict in her gaze. She exhaled sharply, her lips curling into a dry smile, tinged with a bitterness that could no longer be contained. "Oh gee, I don't know," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Being hunted by the Source, ducking the Furies, and being shrunk by a psycho demon, not to mention being chased after by my bedtime stories. I don't know why I wouldn't want the rest of my life to be just like that." Her words were sharp, cutting through the air like daggers, as if trying to make light of everything that had happened to her, even though she knew deep down that it wasn't funny.

Leo smiled sympathetically, his eyes softening as he looked at her, the corners of his lips curling into a sad, understanding smile. "You're not alone anymore," he said quietly, his words gentle but filled with a quiet strength. "You have sisters now." He took a small step forward, as if to close the emotional gap that had opened between them.

Paige scoffed, the sound bitter as she shook her head, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and frustration. "Yeah, sisters who are pressuring me to move in with them for all the wrong reasons." Her voice was tinged with a vulnerability she rarely allowed to show, but it was there, raw and unfiltered.

Leo raised an eyebrow, his confusion deepening. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. He could tell there was more to this than just the constant requests from her sisters.

Paige closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before looking down at the floor. She was silent for a beat, and when she finally spoke again, her voice was softer, filled with a kind of resignation. "Nothing," she said, her words barely above a whisper. "Forget about it." She tried to brush it off, but the sadness in her voice was impossible to ignore.

Leo refused to let it go so easily. He stood there, unwavering, staring at her with a look that dared her to keep her walls up. Paige met his gaze, and for a long moment, there was nothing but the quiet weight of their unspoken thoughts. Finally, she sighed heavily, the sound filled with both frustration and vulnerability, and she gave in.

She sighed again, deeply, her shoulders slumping as she looked down at her feet. "I don't know," she said quietly, her voice cracking slightly with the weight of her feelings. "Sometimes I feel like they want me to be as lovable as Phoebe or as smart as Piper or as strong as Prue and I just... can't do that." Her words were barely a whisper, but the pain in them was unmistakable. "I'm just me, and... and asking me to move in just because it's the most convenient way to vanquish a demon..." Her voice trailed off, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her, and she shrugged hopelessly. "Don't make me go back there, Leo." Her voice was pleading now, a quiet, desperate edge to it that she couldn't mask.

"Not just yet, okay?" she said softly, his voice filled with gentle understanding. "I just need some time," Paige added, her gaze meeting his again, steady but filled with a quiet request for understanding. She turned away from him, her footsteps heavy with the weight of her decision. As she reached the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. "I'll call you if I need you," she said, her tone firm but tinged with a quiet sadness. And with that, she stepped out of the room, leaving Leo standing there, watching her go.

Streets of Sunnydale

Lily stumbled down the street, tears streaming down her face as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to contain the overwhelming sorrow threatening to consume her. The streetlights above flickered dimly, casting long, eerie shadows across the cracked pavement. She sniffled, her breath hitching, feeling utterly lost.

A man emerged from the shadows, his presence both unassuming and oddly perceptive. He was tall and lean, with a warm but calculated smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His clothes were neat but outdated, a relic of a different time. He approached her cautiously, his voice smooth and practiced.

"Are you okay?" Ken asked, tilting his head slightly as he studied her face.

Lily shook her head, her body trembling from both the chill of the night and the ache in her heart. "No," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ken softened his expression, his tone soothing. "Hey, it's okay. Maybe I can help."

"You can't," Lily said, her voice cracking with grief. She turned her face away, unwilling to believe that anyone could take away the pain of losing Rickie.

Ken took a careful step closer, his voice gentle but insistent. "I know you all think I'm a big square, handing out leaflets about hope," he said with a light chuckle. "But hope is a real thing, just like despair. Hope can fill up the part of you that's missing."

Lily hesitated, her tear-filled eyes flicking toward him uncertainly. "But… Rickie…" she whispered, the name barely making it past her lips.

Ken's face lit up as though he'd just remembered something. "Rickie? Say, are you Lily?"

Her head snapped up at that. "Yes," she said quickly.

Ken nodded, smiling as if he had just solved a puzzle. "Right, he was talking about you," he said, his voice full of reassurance.

"You've seen Rickie?" Lily asked, her breath catching in her throat. Hope, fragile but desperate, flickered in her chest.

"Well, sure," Ken said smoothly. "Rickie's with us now."

Lily's brow furrowed, confusion warring with hope. "But… he said he was dead," she said, the words thick with disbelief.

Ken laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Well, someone sure handed you a tall tale," he said, his voice laced with confidence. "Rickie's no more dead than I am. Why don't you come to Family Home? We'll get you taken care of."

Lily hesitated for only a second, the weight of her grief making her easy prey for the comfort he was offering. If there was even the slightest chance Rickie was alive… if he was somewhere safe, waiting for her…

"Okay," she whispered, nodding.

Ken smiled, a satisfied gleam in his eyes, as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her down the street. The night swallowed them whole as they disappeared into the darkness, his arm draped around her like a shepherd leading a lost lamb to the fold.

Halliwell Manor

Phoebe and Prue sat close together on the couch, a map spread out before them, the intricate lines of the city streets almost dizzying in their complexity. Phoebe held the crystal in her hand, dangling it gently above the map, her focus intense as she hoped with all her might that the shimmering pendant would reveal something—anything—that could lead them to the Prince. Her fingers gripped the chain tightly, the smoothness of the crystal cool against her skin, but there was no sign of movement, no indication of any answer. Grams sat nearby, in the armchair to their right, her expression sharp with skepticism. Patty, perched on the arm of the chair, watched them both, a faint furrow between her brows.

"This is hopeless," Grams declared loudly, her voice thick with disbelief as she pointed at the map and the crystal. "There's no way you're going to find him in a city this big." She shook her head with exasperation, arms crossed tightly as she leaned back in her chair, clearly unconvinced by their efforts. Her words were blunt, almost scornful, the frustration of the situation clear in her tone.

Phoebe muttered under her breath, the edge of frustration creeping into her voice. "Yeah, thanks, Grams," she said, her eyes never leaving the crystal as she gave it another attempt to sway. Her shoulders slumped slightly in defeat, the weight of the situation settling heavily on her.

Prue, sensing her sister's growing annoyance, placed a comforting hand on her back, gently rubbing in soothing circles. She didn't say anything, but her touch was a quiet reminder of their bond, the unspoken connection between them that had always been a source of comfort, especially in moments like these. She gave Phoebe a sympathetic look but didn't offer any words of false reassurance.

"Dar—ryl. Darryl? Darryl!" Piper's voice broke through the tension, her voice high and full of urgency as she rushed back into the living room, holding her phone to her ear. Her brows were drawn together in a frown, her expression darkening as she walked towards the couch where her sisters sat. "Slow down, okay?" she said into the phone, her tone strained, "Carjackings happen all the time." She paused, listening for a moment as she continued walking, her gaze flickering over to the map and then back to her sisters. She came to a halt, standing beside the couch, and then raised her brows, the confusion evident on her face. "Why are you calling us?" she asked, her voice mixed with curiosity and mild irritation. She paused again, the incredulity growing as she processed the next piece of information. "A garbage truck?" she echoed, her nose scrunching in disgust, "At sword point!" Her voice rang out louder as she sank onto the couch beside Prue, causing both Phoebe and Prue to snap their attention to her. They exchanged a quick look before turning to Piper, waiting for an explanation. Piper held up a hand, signaling for them to hold off. "We'll get back to ya," she said with a heavy sigh, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.

Phoebe's eyes widened, and she turned to her sister, her voice tinged with worry and a touch of desperation. "Please don't tell me that the police found him?" she asked, her eyes searching Piper's face for any hint of good news.

Piper shook her head, the frustration still evident in her features. "Not yet," she replied flatly, before she gestured toward the map. "How about you?" she asked, her gaze shifting back to Phoebe. "Have you had any luck with... whatever this is?" she asked, gesturing vaguely to the crystal and the map.

"HA!" Grams interjected from her spot in the chair, her voice high and mocking as she leaned forward, arms crossed tightly as if she had already predicted their failure.

Phoebe shot her a mock glare, one that held a trace of humor despite her frustration. Her eyes narrowed in playful annoyance, but there was a flicker of amusement beneath the surface. "Very helpful," she muttered sarcastically, though the slight quirk of her lips betrayed the humor she was attempting to hide. Piper, standing beside the couch, let out a quiet chuckle at the exchange, though she tried to stifle it behind a hand. The situation was far from ideal, but there was still room for levity, even if it was darkly sarcastic.

Phoebe sighed, her shoulders drooping as she looked back at the crystal. "Nothing," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. "I mean, he's not a witch, and he's not a demon, so..." She trailed off, her frustration palpable. The search for the Prince had become an endless string of dead ends, and each failed attempt was wearing on her patience.

"LE…" Piper called out, her expression resigned, but she was cut off when the familiar sound of orbing filled the room. She froze, her gaze snapping to the door just in time to see Leo shimmer into the room. "…O! Hi," she said, her smile warm despite the situation.

Leo smiled back, though it was a little more tentative, as if he too was feeling the weight of everything happening. He shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with the tension in the room. "Hi," he said, his voice soft, his movements almost hesitant.

Prue looked up, her eyes scanning the room before landing on him. "Where's Paige?" she asked, her tone casual but with an undercurrent of concern. She had expected to see Paige with him, especially given the urgency of the situation.

Leo's expression was neutral, but there was a slight shrug to his shoulders. "Paige? She didn't wanna come," he replied simply, the words coming out almost matter-of-factly. His voice didn't carry any judgment, but there was an underlying sense of understanding, as if he'd seen this coming.

Piper let out a soft laugh, her voice laced with disbelief. "She what?" she asked, clearly caught off guard. "Did you explain the situation to her?" Her voice held an edge of amusement, but it quickly turned into something more expectant as she looked at Leo, waiting for a clearer answer.

Leo nodded slowly; his expression serious despite the humor in the room. "Yes," he said, his voice firm but understanding.

Piper squinted at Leo; her brow furrowed in disbelief as the words sank in. "And she still refused to come?" she asked, her voice laced with incredulity. Her gaze flicked between Leo and the others, seeking some sign that this wasn't the absurd truth. But Leo, unfazed, nodded again, the quiet reassurance in his expression only deepening Piper's frustration.

"You have got to be kidding me," Prue muttered under her breath, her voice thick with exasperation. The words tumbled out like a low growl, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. It was hard to wrap her head around Paige's refusal, especially given the stakes they were facing.

"Leo!" Piper cried, her voice rising with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. She took a step forward, the urgency in her posture reflecting the severity of the situation. "We are up to our pointy little hats in demonic problems here!" she continued, gesturing vaguely around the room as if the very air was thick with the weight of everything they had to face. "We need her." Her tone was sharp, edged with a raw desperation she couldn't disguise.

Leo nodded again, as calm and composed as ever. "She knows that," he replied, his voice quiet but resolute, as though this situation had long ceased to surprise him. But the nonchalance in his demeanor only seemed to heighten the tension, making Piper's frustration simmer just beneath the surface.

Prue's eyes widened; her disbelief impossible to hide. "How..." she began, shaking her head in exasperation, "can you possibly be so calm?" Her voice was thick with disbelief, her brow furrowed deeply in confusion. She had hoped that Leo might have some new piece of information, some magic trick up his sleeve to explain away Paige's refusal, but the lack of answers only left her more agitated.

Phoebe, ever the peacemaker, placed a gentle hand on Prue's arm, her touch meant to calm her sister's spiraling emotions. She opened her mouth to speak, her voice soft yet firm, "I don't understand. We're her sisters'," she said, her words trailing off as she looked back and forth between Leo and her sisters, seeking some form of understanding. But Leo simply nodded again, as if to affirm her confusion.

"Oh, enough with the nodding already!" Prue snapped suddenly, her voice rising with irritation. It felt like the nods were stacking up like mountains of unspoken words, and the longer they went unanswered, the more suffocating the silence became. She was done waiting, done nodding along without clarity. She needed to know what was really going on, not just passive acknowledgment.

Leo, still cool and collected, seemed unfazed by her outburst. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze intent as he continued, his voice as calm as ever. "Yeah...but that's not the reason you need her," he said, his words deliberately measured, as though trying to guide them toward something they hadn't yet seen.

Piper narrowed her eyes at him, her expression shifting to one of suspicion. "Is there more to that, or are you just gonna leave us hanging?" she asked, her voice threaded with knowing. She was well aware that Leo wasn't telling them the whole story, and the longer he dragged it out, the more impatient she became. There had to be something more to Paige's refusal—something deeper, something Leo wasn't saying.

Leo hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between the sisters as if weighing his words carefully. "Look," he began, his tone shifting slightly, "I don't want to get in the middle of this. This is between you guys." His voice was careful, reluctant even, as if he feared making things worse. "But I will tell you that just wanting her to battle demons with you isn't enough of a reason to get her to move in."

"It's a pressing reason!" Piper snapped again, her tone rising with frustration, her eyes flashing with determination. She wasn't backing down from this. The urgency of their mission couldn't be denied, and if Paige's presence was the key to stopping this, then Piper was willing to do whatever it took to bring her back into the fold.

"But it's not a sisterly one," Phoebe countered, her voice soft yet tinged with sorrow. She lowered her gaze to the floor, her voice almost a whisper as the truth of her words sunk in. She wasn't blind to the complexities of their family dynamics, and she could feel the underlying tension building between them all. She knew that, deep down, this wasn't just about defeating demons—it was about the relationships they had, and the expectations they placed on each other. Paige wasn't just a tool to wield; she was family.

Prue and Piper both turned to Phoebe in surprise, their eyes wide with questioning confusion. "What do you mean?" Prue asked, her voice cautious but tinged with curiosity, as if the answer might be something they weren't prepared to hear.

Phoebe sighed, the weight of it all settling heavy on her shoulders. "Sometimes I think we're asking Paige to be someone she's not," she said softly, her words lingering in the air. She wasn't accusing anyone—least of all Paige—but the truth felt unavoidable. "She doesn't want to be just another piece in our puzzle. She has her own life, her own path."

Leo, ever the calm presence in the storm, nodded in silent agreement with Phoebe's words, though he didn't add anything else. It was a conversation he had already had with Paige, and he knew it wasn't his place to interfere further.

"In the meantime," Leo continued, his tone shifting back to its usual resolve as he addressed Prue. "You need to find the Prince before he exposes you." His eyes were steady, his voice firm as he met Prue's gaze, urging her into action. "So, I suggest you check with the Book of Shadows and get up to speed on Paige's fairytale." His words were forceful now, urging them into action, pressing them to take the next step. "And I will check with the Elders and see what they know." He added, pointing skyward as he prepared to orb out.

"HEY!" Prue suddenly called out, her voice sharp and piercing as she stood up from the couch. She leveled a gaze at Leo, her expression deadpan and unamused. "Why do you always look at me when you talk about exposure?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm, a wry smirk curling at the corners of her lips.

Leo sighed heavily, clearly exhausted by the unending questions and the tension that seemed to follow them wherever they went. He shook his head, offering a rueful smile that suggested there was no easy answer to her query. With a final glance at the sisters, Leo disappeared in a swirl of bright orbs, his departure leaving behind a room full of unanswered questions.

Prue shrugged nonchalantly, her expression almost indifferent as she muttered, "It was a legitimate question."

The other two sisters, meanwhile, sulked in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on them.

South Bay Social Services

The Prince stormed through the building with an air of determination, his armor clanking with every stride. His eyes burned with a singular focus, weaving in and out of the rows of desks and startled employees, sending a ripple of unease through the office. His chain mail gleamed, reflecting the fluorescent lights overhead, adding a surreal quality to his presence. He didn't seem to care about the chaos he was causing—nothing mattered but finding his beloved. As he moved, whispers followed him, and a few of the braver souls peeked from behind cubicle walls, eyes wide with confusion. His search was frantic, the urgency palpable as he moved closer to his destination.

Meanwhile, Paige had returned to the copy room, exhausted by the day's whirlwind of events. The soft hum of the machine and the faint rustle of papers around her brought a sense of calm that only lasted for a moment. Suddenly, the noise from the hallway shattered the peace. She turned her head, narrowing her eyes at the door, trying to make sense of the commotion. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she pushed away from the counter to investigate. As she peered through the small window of the door, her breath caught in her throat. There, striding towards her with a grace and confidence that made him stand out among the office workers, was the Prince. He was close now, his eyes locked on hers with such intensity that it made her heart skip a beat.

"At last, I found you," he said, his smile wide and genuine, as though he'd just completed the most important mission of his life.

Paige blinked, her mind racing to comprehend what was happening. "How?" she asked incredulously, stepping back from the window to open the door just enough for him to enter.

"I followed your heart, my love," the Prince replied, his voice soft and tender, a warmth emanating from him as he closed the distance between them.

Paige couldn't help but sigh, a mixture of frustration and disbelief flooding her. She glanced toward the hallway, half expecting security to come rushing in at any moment. With a deep breath, she pulled him into the room, closing the door behind them with a soft click. "You can't be here. You need to leave before security comes," she insisted, her voice a little panicked. The last thing she needed right now was a fairytale prince causing a scene at work. Of all places!

The Prince, unfazed by her words, shook his head resolutely. "I will not leave until you are with child." His tone was firm, a declaration of intent that only deepened the surreal, almost comical quality of the situation.

Paige blinked, trying to process what he was saying, and held up a finger in a gesture of pause. "Okay, a) I always use protection, and b) you're a fairytale," she said, her voice strained with the absurdity of it all.

The Prince reached out to touch her gently, his expression softening with every movement, but Paige jerked away, her body tense with the sudden invasion of her personal space. "I won't harm you," he assured her kindly, his eyes filled with an earnestness that only made the situation even more confusing.

Paige held up a hand, her back now pressed against one of the copy machines as she struggled to create some space between them. "Just keep that sword of yours sheathed, pal," she ordered, trying to maintain control over the increasingly bizarre situation.

But as if the day weren't strange enough, a sudden electric shock pulsed through the copy machine. Paige yelped and stumbled forward, her heart racing, only to find herself caught by the Prince. He pulled her away with surprising speed, his grip firm yet gentle, ensuring she didn't fall.

Before Paige could gather her bearings, the machine emitted a harsh mechanical sound, and something began to emerge from within it—something unnatural. The Shocker Demon, its grotesque form crackling with electricity, climbed out of the copier, its eyes fixed on Paige with malicious intent. It didn't waste a second, lunging at her with a low growl, the air around it sizzling as it prepared to unleash its deadly shock.

The Prince recoiled, fear flashing in his eyes as he looked between the demon and Paige. His sword was suddenly drawn, gleaming with intent, as he stepped forward with determination, slicing through the air with a swift motion. The blade cut through the demon's form effortlessly, splitting it in two. With a horrid screech the electricity that had been tormenting Paige faded as she collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, her limbs shaking from the shock.

Paige blinked in stunned silence as the demon retreated into the nearest light socket, its body dissipating like smoke. She exhaled slowly, her heart still racing. She looked up to find the Prince standing above her, offering his hand with an expression of pure relief.

"Fear not," he said with a smile that could only be described as triumphant. "I have slain the beast, my love."

Paige, still trying to regain her composure, couldn't help but grin at his earnestness. "You most certainly have," she agreed, her voice soft with admiration, despite herself.

Just as things were beginning to settle, a voice called through the locked door, cutting through the moment. "Hey, Paige," Mr. Cowan's voice rang out, "You all right in there?"

Paige's heart jumped in her chest, the last thing she needed being her boss at the door. "I will stay forever by your side," the Prince murmured sweetly, his hand caressing her cheek as if their fates were already sealed. "Every moment of every day, you will know you are protected, desired, loved."

Paige blinked, caught in the intensity of his gaze, and then grinned, trying to maintain some sense of control. "That's so sweet," she said, her voice wobbly, but she couldn't help it. This was absurd, but oddly... charming.

"Paige! PAIGE!" her boss yelled from the other side of the door. "What the hell is going on? Who is this guy?"

Paige's breath caught in her throat as panic surged through her once again. She bit her lip nervously and then quickly pointed to the Prince, offering up the best cover story she could think of on the fly. "Renaissance Fair," she said, her voice steadying with the lie, "Yeah, we're trying to score tickets for the orphanage. See ya." Without missing a beat, she yanked the Prince by the arm and headed toward the door.

Sunnydale Blood Bank

The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as Buffy stood behind the counter of the blood bank, flipping through manila folders with quiet urgency. The dim overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting a dull glow over the rows of neatly organized files. Her fingers worked swiftly, rifling through the stacks until she landed on the one, she was searching for—Rickie's file.

Her eyes skimmed over the usual medical jargon and history, but it was the comments section that sent a chill down her spine. One single word stood out, stark against the white page—

"Candidate."

Buffy frowned, her brows knitting together. "Candidate for what?" she muttered under her breath, her grip on the folder tightening.

Before she could delve any further, the sharp flick of a light switch filled the room with brightness. A figure emerged from the back office; her presence stiff with suspicion.

"What are you doing?"

Buffy glanced up from the file, unbothered by the interruption. She met the wary gaze of Joan before casually flipping another page. "Breaking into your office and looking through your private files," she answered without hesitation, her voice laced with defiance. She tapped a finger against Rickie's file. "Candidate for what?"

Joan's expression darkened with alarm. Without another word, she turned abruptly and reached for the phone on the desk. "I'm calling the police."

The air in the room seemed to shift.

In a split second, Buffy's form rippled, her features twisting and morphing as her human guise melted away. Her skin flushed crimson, marked with bold, tribal tattoos that curved and twisted across her face like ominous sigils. The soft glow of her eyes vanished, replaced by something far more ancient, predatory.

The demon Nyxara stood where Buffy had been.

Joan gasped, stumbling back a step, her fingers frozen inches away from the phone. Her breath hitched in her throat as she took in the sight before her—a creature with the form of a woman but the presence of something far more dangerous.

Nyxara calmly placed Rickie's file down, stacking it neatly on top of the others she had pulled. "You've got a whole bunch of candidates here," she remarked, her voice smooth yet edged with something menacing. She trailed her fingers lazily over the files, her eyes never leaving Joan. "I wonder if any of these kids are missing… like Rickie. Gosh, I'll bet they are. Candidates for what?"

Joan swallowed hard, her body trembling. "N-Nothing!" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers twitched at her sides as if debating whether to make a run for it. "I just… give him names. He likes to know who… I give him the names of the healthy ones."

Nyxara tilted her head, studying her with cold, unyielding eyes. "Give them to who?"

Joan's throat bobbed as she swallowed, sweat gathering at her temple. "K-Ken," she stammered, her voice almost breaking. "His name is Ken. He runs the Sunnydale Family Home."

A slow smile curled across Nyxara's lips—but it wasn't a kind one.

Halliwell Manor

"I don't see what the big deal is," Piper voiced, striking a match and lighting a few candles in the attic. She exhaled in irritation as she continued, "You'd think she'd want to move in here, considering the dump she lives in."

"Piper," Prue and Phoebe reprimanded in unison, their voices laced with disapproval.

From the other side of the room, Patty frowned at her daughter, her arms crossed in quiet chastisement, while Grams chuckled softly, shaking her head in amusement.

Piper, unfazed by their reactions, plowed ahead with her rant, her tone sharpened by frustration. "Just wait until the Shocker Demon attacks her."

"Piper?" Phoebe interrupted, her voice cutting through the air with an urgency that had nothing to do with Piper's ongoing complaints.

Prue, catching the shift in Phoebe's tone, narrowed her eyes and moved closer to where her younger sister sat hunched over the Book of Shadows.

Still, Piper didn't hear. She was too caught up in her own argument, pacing slightly as she waved a hand in exasperation. "Then she might not be so resistant to the idea," she concluded knowingly, arms folding across her chest.

"Defiant, clever, and independent," Phoebe said suddenly, her voice rising with intrigue. She ran a finger over the text in front of her before looking up at her sisters. "That kind of describes Paige, don't you think?" she asked seriously, her hazel eyes sharp with curiosity.

Piper snorted. "Yeah," Prue agreed with a wry laugh. "Along with stubborn, stubborn, and more stubborn."

Piper shot Prue a pointed look as she moved to join them by the book. "Yeah, and you're little Miss 'push-over,'" she snorted.

Prue scoffed, her blue eyes narrowing as she mock-glared at Piper. "No. That's you," she fired back.

Piper wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue in response, prompting Phoebe to laugh.

"Alright," Phoebe said, steering them back on track. She gestured at the book in front of her, tapping its ancient pages with an eager hand. "Listen to this: 'A powerful witch who came to the craft late but learned to use it quickly.'" She paused, looking up at her sisters with growing excitement. "I'm telling you; this is Paige." She stabbed the passage for emphasis.

Piper frowned; skepticism evident in her furrowed brow. "What are you getting at?" she asked impatiently.

Phoebe sighed, clearly trying to contain her own growing excitement. "Don't you think it's a huge coincidence that Paige's fairytale just happens to be in the Book of Shadows?" She arched a brow, her voice thick with meaning. "And that this Prince just happens to show up in the 21st century, head over heels in love with her?"

Piper's frown deepened, her mind working through the implications. "Okay, connect the dots, will you?" she prompted, her patience thinning.

Phoebe inhaled deeply, glancing between her sisters as she spoke, her voice measured but filled with certainty. "What if it's not a fairytale?" she asked slowly. "What if it's a memory? Paige's memory," she clarified, lowering her voice as if saying it too loudly would make it even more real. "From a past life."

Piper suppressed a chuckle, crossing her arms as she gave Phoebe an amused look. "Now you're reaching," she said, her tone dripping with skepticism.

Prue, however, shook her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. "No. No, I don't think so," she disagreed confidently, and both her sisters turned to her with surprise. She leaned forward, resting her hands on the table as she elaborated. "Phoebe's past life came back to haunt her," she pointed out with a knowing glance in Phoebe's direction. "Why not Paige's?" she asked, arching a brow as the weight of the idea settled over them.

Piper hesitated for a moment, then relented with a sigh, her doubt beginning to waver.

"Think about it," Phoebe continued, her voice tinged with excitement as she tapped the page in front of her. "What if Paige was the Evil Enchantress, once upon a time?" she smirked smugly, clearly enjoying the revelation.

Piper narrowed her eyes and cast a glance down at the Book of Shadows, scanning the passage before speaking up. "But the Enchantress' power was to conjure the elements," she pointed out, her voice carrying a tone of satisfaction at having found a flaw in the theory. "Paige can't do that." She folded her arms, feeling justified, and Phoebe nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Yes, but…" Prue interjected, her eyes fixed on the aged page before her, deep in thought. "Your powers change and evolve as you grow. They can also be determined by certain life choices that you make," she added with conviction. Then she hesitated for a moment before looking up toward their grandmother. "Right?"

Grams, who had been listening attentively, nodded and smiled with pride. "Exactly right," she confirmed.

Prue grinned triumphantly, then shot a smug look at her two sisters. Piper and Phoebe groaned in unison, rolling their eyes.

Piper shook her head and muttered under her breath, "Over-achiever."

Prue, without missing a beat, smacked Piper's arm lightly in response.

Their playful banter was short-lived. A sudden, powerful whoosh filled the attic, followed by a deep hum of energy. Behind their mother, the air warped and twisted as a large, swirling portal materialized, its pulsating glow illuminating the room with an eerie, flickering light.

Patty gasped, instinctively stepping closer to her daughters, her hands raised slightly in caution.

Piper bit her lip, her gaze fixed on the ominous vortex. "This doesn't look good," she stated uneasily as she and her sisters instinctively moved around the Book of Shadows, bracing for whatever—or whoever—was about to come through.

A gust of icy wind blasted through the attic as a dark figure emerged from the portal. The Evil Enchantress stepped forward, her flowing robes billowing with supernatural force as she raised her hands. Without hesitation, she unleashed a powerful gust of wind that struck the five women with brutal force, sending them crashing to the ground.

Prue gritted her teeth as she pushed herself up, her head whipping toward Paige's empty spot. "Oh! Paige!" she barked, as if somehow calling her name would summon her sister to clean up the mess.

The Enchantress's piercing gaze swept over them, her expression unreadable but full of menace. "Where is the Prince?" she demanded coldly, her voice laced with authority and impatience.

Still sprawled on the floor, Phoebe turned to Piper, dusting herself off. "Still think I'm reaching?" she asked wryly as she reached down and hauled Piper to her feet.

Piper groaned, her eyes flashing with frustration. "I don't believe this!" she cried in anger.

The Enchantress's expression darkened as she lifted her left hand, fingers curling gracefully before releasing a searing bolt of fire straight toward them. The flames shot across the attic like a streak of lightning, forcing them to dive behind an old armchair and an overturned table for cover.

"Oh dear!" Prue muttered breathlessly, scrambling to her feet as she pulled Grams up beside her. She didn't waste a second before ushering both her mother and grandmother behind the same large piece of furniture shielding her sisters.

The Enchantress didn't hesitate. With another flick of her wrist, she sent another blazing attack their way. The flames roared past them, licking at the edges of the room as the five women bolted for the door.

"GO!" Prue shouted, leading the charge as they raced out of the attic, their footsteps pounding against the wooden floorboards.

Behind them, the Enchantress remained, her expression serene yet deadly, watching them flee as if she had all the time in the world.

Halliwell Manor

"Crap!" Phoebe muttered, waving her hands over the smoldering remains of yet another small fire left behind in the Enchantress' destructive wake. The acrid scent of burnt wood and fabric filled the air, mingling with the lingering tang of magic. With a frustrated sigh, she stomped out an ember with the tip of her boot and turned just in time to hear Piper charging into the kitchen.

"I GOT IT!" Piper yelled, lugging a fire extinguisher as she sprinted toward a chair engulfed in flickering flames. With a swift motion, she aimed the nozzle and blasted the fire into submission, the hiss of foam filling the room. The last of the embers sputtered out, leaving behind a charred mess. Piper exhaled sharply, dropping the extinguisher with a thud. "Living room is clear," she announced, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Phoebe nodded, surveying the damage around her. "So is the kitchen," she added, kicking aside a scorched book as she turned toward the door. Just then, Prue strode in, her expression set with frustration, her cell phone clutched in a white-knuckled grip.

"Any luck?" Phoebe asked hopefully.

Prue lifted her phone and waved it slightly before snapping it shut. "Buffy's dealing with a demon issue of her own, so she can't help us," she said with a clipped tone, clearly annoyed.

Phoebe sighed, her brows knitting together. "Why do you think she left so suddenly?" she asked, referencing the Enchantress. "Did trashing our house become too boring for her?"

Piper rolled her eyes. "She probably realized we don't have the Prince," she answered, then let out an exasperated groan. "Great! It's not like we're having enough problems with Paige. Now we have to deal with her past life too?" She threw her hands up in frustration, then rubbed her temples as if fighting off an impending headache.

Before anyone could respond, shimmering orbs filled the room, and Leo materialized in their midst, his face tense with urgency. "Okay, I found out about the Prince," he announced without preamble. Then his eyes darted around, taking in the scorched furniture, the overturned chairs, and the lingering scent of burnt fabric. His expression darkened. "What… the hell happened here?"

Prue let out a weary sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Paige's past life almost killed us," she informed him, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

Leo's brows furrowed. "What?"

"Yeah." Prue nodded, rubbing her forehead. "Paige—the Evil Enchantress. Same soul, different lifetimes."

Leo shifted his gaze to Piper and Phoebe, silently asking for confirmation. They both nodded.

Piper crossed her arms. "She came through some magical portal looking for Prince Carjack." She waved a hand vaguely in the air, still incredulous.

Leo's expression darkened further; his usual calm shaken. "Okay, well, you have to stop her. You can't let her find him," he said, the urgency in his voice unmistakable. "According to the Elders, if she conceives his heir, dark magic will rule his kingdom forever."

The sisters gawked at him.

"History will be rewritten. Your future—"

"Will be screwed!" Piper cut in, waving her arms. "The world will plunge into darkness. Yada, yada, yada!"

Phoebe shot her a glare. "Uh… okay, that's not helping," she snapped, unimpressed.

Prue groaned, rubbing her temples. "I am so not getting married today," she muttered, her voice flat with resignation.

Phoebe whirled on her. "Don't say that. That is not helping. Do not say that," she scolded, her eyes flashing with concern.

Leo hesitated for a beat before Phoebe turned back to him, biting her lip. "So, if we vanquish past Paige, don't we risk vanquishing our Paige too?" she asked, her voice quieter now, heavy with the weight of what that would mean.

Leo's face grew grim. "Possibly," he admitted.

A tense silence settled over them before Prue squared her shoulders, determination hardening her features. "Well then, fine," she said decisively. "We won't vanquish her. We'll bind her powers and send her back in time, hopefully a virgin." A sly smile curved her lips as she nodded to herself, satisfied with the plan.

Piper let out a chuckle, shaking her head. "Okay, let's get some candles. We have a potion to concoct."

Sunnydale Family Home

Lily stood in the small, stark room, feeling a strange sense of unease settle over her. The space was bare, the walls painted in a dull, neutral color that felt more sterile than welcoming. A couch sat against one wall, accompanied by a few hard-backed chairs, arranged in a loose circle. The atmosphere was cold and uninviting, a stark contrast to the warmth she was used to. The front door, though solid and sturdy, was the only direct connection to the outside world. Through the curtained windows, no light could peek in, leaving the room cloaked in an unnatural stillness. The curtains, heavy and thick, prevented any glimpse of the city beyond, and the silence was deafening, pressing in from all sides.

As she adjusted the uncomfortable shift dress she was wearing, Lily felt more exposed than she had anticipated. The fabric, simple and unadorned, clung awkwardly to her form, doing little to hide the discomfort that churned inside her. She tugged at the sleeves, wishing she could slip back into her familiar clothes, but she knew better than to question the situation. It was all part of something bigger, something she didn't yet fully understand.

Ken, ever the presence of calm certainty in the room, gave her a warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His gaze swept over her with a touch of approval. "Well, don't you look nice," he remarked, his voice smooth but with an underlying edge of control that Lily couldn't quite place.

Lily shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the fabric of the dress again. "I guess…" Her voice trailed off, the discomfort in her tone reflecting the unease she felt inside.

Ken seemed unfazed by her hesitance. "Well, you don't want to wear your own outfit for the cleansing. It'll get soaked." He gestured to the back of the room, his hand directing her toward a door that seemed to lead further into the unknown.

A strange shiver ran down Lily's spine as she followed Ken's lead, her mind racing with questions she didn't know how to ask. "A cleansing is like a baptism, right?" she ventured, hoping to make sense of whatever ritual she was about to endure.

Ken chuckled softly; the sound devoid of any real warmth. "Not quite the same," he replied, offering no further explanation. The ambiguity in his response only deepened Lily's growing suspicion, but she said nothing. Instead, she allowed him to lead her, one step at a time.

As they moved closer to the door, Lily's thoughts turned to Rickie. The thought of him gave her a small measure of comfort, though a knot of worry remained in the pit of her stomach. "And will I see Rickie after?" she asked, the urgency in her voice betraying her desire for reassurance.

Ken's expression softened, just slightly, as he met her gaze. "Of course. He's waiting for you. He's very excited." His words, though meant to comfort, carried an unsettling edge, as if Rickie's excitement were something she should be wary of rather than pleased by. Lily couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking into something much bigger than she had anticipated. Yet, the promise of seeing Rickie again pushed her forward.

Ken's eyes, though kind, held something unreadable beneath their surface, and as he opened the door.

South Bay Social Services

The dim office was bathed in the cold glow of fluorescent lights, casting elongated shadows along the walls. The Evil Enchantress stood amidst the silence, her fingers delicately brushing over the discarded pendant at her feet. She lifted it slowly, her lips curling into a smirk as she traced the intricate design with the tip of her nail.

"What lures you to this time, my Prince?" she mused aloud, her voice dripping with curiosity as she turned the pendant over in her palm. The metal was still warm from his touch. "Who beckons thee?"

The sharp click of a door opening broke her thoughts.

"Paige?"

The Enchantress stiffened at the unfamiliar voice. Her grip on the pendant tightened slightly as she turned her head toward the approaching man.

Mr. Cowan stepped out of his office, briefcase in hand, his brow furrowed in mild confusion as he spotted her standing alone in the hallway. "What are you still doing here so late?" he asked, glancing around the otherwise empty office space. "I thought you left already."

The Enchantress straightened slowly, tilting her head as she observed him. There was no recognition in her gaze, only vague interest, like a cat watching a mouse that had yet to decide if it should run.

"What name did you call me?" she asked, her voice smooth but detached, as though she were merely entertaining a passing curiosity.

Mr. Cowan frowned. "Don't tell me you're in the fair too?" He gestured vaguely at her elaborate gown, assuming it was part of a costume. "Look, just don't forget to lock up."

When she failed to respond, he shrugged and turned back toward the exit, his footsteps echoing in the stillness before the door swung shut behind him.

Left alone once more, the Enchantress let out a slow breath and resumed her quiet exploration of the office, her movements fluid and unhurried. She ran her fingers along desks, trailed them over the tops of chairs, and observed the unfamiliar artifacts of the modern world with a detached sort of amusement.

Eventually, her gaze landed on a picture board hanging on the far wall. She stepped toward it, the golden candlelight from a nearby lamp catching in her dark eyes as she studied the images pinned in neat rows. There were many faces, frozen in laughter and casual poses, but only one captured her interest.

A single photograph.

Two young women stood side by side, smiling at the camera, their expressions warm and familiar. Beneath the image, the caption read: "Paige and Eilish."

The Enchantress cocked her head, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. She reached out, her nails scraping lightly against the glossy surface of the photograph before she tore it from the board.

Holding it up, she examined Paige's face with predatory curiosity, then whispered, almost to herself—

"Looking forward to meeting you… Paige."

Her fingers tightened, crumpling the edges of the picture as a wicked gleam flashed in her eyes.

Paige's Apartment

"I still can't believe that you exist, that you're actually here," Paige gushed, her voice carrying the breathless wonder of a child seeing magic for the first time. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling almost embarrassed by the sheer giddiness in her tone.

The Prince moved forward with quiet grace, lowering himself into a crouch before her, his eyes searching hers with a depth that made her breath hitch. His presence was steady, unwavering, like something eternal.

"I always wanted to save you from the Evil Enchantress," Paige continued, her voice soft as she turned fully to face him. "So you could live happily ever after." A small, shy smile graced her lips, a mixture of nostalgia and self-consciousness coloring her words.

The Prince's expression remained sincere, unshaken by the absurdity of it all. "Be with me, and I shall," he vowed, his voice a deep, earnest whisper. "Come with me. Live in my castle as my Princess."

Paige blinked, caught between the dreamlike romance of his words and the sheer absurdity of what he was suggesting. She let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. "What is it with everyone wanting me to move in with them?" she asked, only half-joking, half-exasperated.

The Prince, seemingly undeterred, rose to his feet, his confidence unshaken. "I can give you all the riches you desire." He gestured broadly, as if the very walls around them were nothing more than a temporary prison. "I can take you away from all this."

Paige let out a soft laugh, but it lacked humor. "As tempting as that is, I know it's just the spell talking," she admitted, her voice tinged with regret.

The Prince tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. "But isn't that what true love is?" he countered smoothly. "Falling under someone's spell?" He took the seat beside her, his gaze never leaving hers. "Just tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you. I swear."

Paige hesitated, her hands curling into her lap as emotions flickered across her face—longing, doubt, frustration. "Can you make me as good as my sisters need me to be?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The Prince shifted slightly, caught off guard by the weight of her words. Before he could respond, Paige let out a small, forced laugh and held up a hand. "Never mind. You wouldn't understand," she dismissed quickly, though the vulnerability in her eyes betrayed her attempt to brush it off. A sigh escaped her lips, the moment pressing in around them.

The Prince, however, wasn't willing to let it go so easily. His expression hardened with determination. "Try me," he said simply, his voice steady.

They gazed at each other, the room growing heavy with unspoken words, unacknowledged desires. The air between them crackled with an undeniable pull, something ancient and familiar. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned in—

And then—

"Hey!"

Piper's sharp cry rang through the apartment as a burst of icy magic filled the space.

Paige barely had time to register what was happening before the Prince froze in place, his lips mere inches from hers, his expression locked in mid-motion.

She gasped, instinctively jumping back, her heartbeat slamming against her ribs. Her eyes darted toward the sudden intruders—Prue, Piper, Phoebe, and Leo, all standing there with determined expressions, potion bottles clutched in hand.

The initial shock wore off, quickly replaced by simmering frustration. Paige let out a deep, exasperated sigh, running a hand through her hair as she turned to face them fully.

"What is going on with this barging-in thing?" she demanded, her voice laced with irritation. "This is getting ridiculous!"

Piper had the decency to look sheepish as she lowered her hand, glancing at the frozen prince. "Sorry," she offered, though there was little regret in her tone. "Thought he was attacking you."

"And we didn't barge," Prue corrected smugly, arms crossed as she met Paige's glare with a smirk. "We orbed."

Paige rolled her eyes, clearly unamused. "Oh, well, that makes all the difference," she deadpanned, her voice dripping with sarcasm before turning her attention back to Piper. "He was kissing me," she emphasized, gesturing toward the still-frozen Prince with frustration. "It's called kissing." Her tone took on a condescending edge, her patience already worn thin. "And what are you doing here anyway?" she demanded, hands now on her hips. "I told you I'd call if I needed to."

Leo, ever the voice of reason, took a small step forward. "Well, something's come up," he said, his voice laced with an ominous note. "Something you're not gonna like."

Paige scoffed, throwing up her hands. "Something worse than this?" she challenged, motioning dramatically to the frozen Prince and the whirlwind of chaos surrounding them.

Phoebe, her expression serious, wasted no time getting to the point. "The Evil Enchantress is here," she announced grimly.

Paige blinked. "What?" she breathed, her stomach dropping as her eyes darted between her sisters.

"She nearly killed us trying to get to him," Phoebe continued, nodding toward the Prince as if that should explain everything.

Prue's lips pressed into a tight line as she muttered darkly, "Trashed the house too."

Paige's legs gave out beneath her as she dropped onto the couch, shaking her head in disbelief. "Oh my god," she whispered, hands gripping the armrest for stability.

Piper exhaled, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Actually, that's not the worst part," she admitted, her voice cautious.

Paige barely had time to process that before Piper pressed on. "Remember how we were wondering how she cast a spell on him, but he fell for you?" she asked, her tone almost too casual, as if trying to soften the impending blow.

Paige hesitated, still trying to make sense of everything. "Yeah?" she replied slowly, nodding.

Piper winced slightly before Prue took over, her voice gentler now. "Well… that's because you're her," she said carefully.

Paige frowned. "What?"

Prue sighed, rubbing her temple before correcting herself, "I mean, she's you." She cringed at her own wording.

Phoebe tried to jump in, her hands moving as if she could physically smooth over the confusion. "Well, uh…" she trailed off, looking helplessly at Piper.

Piper gave an awkward smile and bit her lip before turning to Leo, "Yeah, help."

Leo, ever the pragmatic one, took a step closer. "Look," he began patiently, "what she means is that you were the Evil Enchantress in one of your past lives." He explained it as gently as possible, but there was no way to sugarcoat it. "So when you read the spell in the Book of Shadows, he came."

Paige's breath hitched as she stared at him, her mind racing. "You're saying…" she started, voice trailing off.

"And that's also why you remember the fairytale so well," Piper added, stepping closer alongside Prue and Phoebe. "It's because you've actually lived it once before."

Paige stared, unblinking, as the weight of the revelation settled over her. A slow, forced smile stretched across her lips, her voice overly chipper as she clapped her hands together. "Okay, I can deal with this. Yeah." The false cheer in her tone was almost convincing—almost. She gave a weak chuckle, shaking her head slightly. "No wonder I related to her the most," she muttered under her breath, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her sleeves.

But then, as if the thought had just truly struck her, her eyes widened, and she snapped her head up, looking at her sisters sharply. "Does this mean I'm evil?" she asked, the fear creeping into her voice like an uninvited guest.

Without hesitation, all three sisters answered in perfect unison.

"Yes."

Paige's face fell instantly, her stomach twisting. Her hands, which had been fidgeting nervously, stilled. Her breath caught, the room suddenly feeling smaller.

"No," Prue corrected herself quickly, shaking her head, her voice firm but laced with a hint of guilt.

"No," Phoebe added, flashing a reassuring smile.

"No," Piper emphasized, as if saying it with enough conviction would erase the damage already done.

Prue stepped forward, her tone gentler now. "No, not you—just your past self," she clarified. "You've grown and evolved… like Phoebe." She smirked playfully, throwing a sideways glance at their middle sister.

Phoebe gasped dramatically, her mouth dropping open. "Hey!" she yelped before smacking Prue's arm.

"Ow! Hey, watch it there, missy!" Prue scolded, rubbing her arm, though her amusement was evident.

Phoebe huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at her.

Piper, ever the peacemaker, chuckled before taking over. "We all have," she said warmly, her eyes meeting Paige's. "That's what we do."

Paige exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly.

"Right," Prue said, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. She held up a small glass vial of shimmering purple liquid, letting it catch the light as she gave it a little wave. "So, the plan is to bind the Enchantress' power with this little potion."

Phoebe, Piper, and Leo each held up identical vials.

Paige studied them for a moment before nodding with newfound determination. "I'll do it." Her voice was steady now, firm with resolve. She stood up, reached out, and took the vial from Prue's hand without hesitation.

Prue opened her mouth to say something, but Paige cut her off before she could get a single word out.

"No," Paige interrupted, already heading for the door. "I mean by myself."

Her sisters froze, exchanging worried glances.

Paige kept moving, her back to them as she continued, "I put you guys in danger." Shame flickered across her face, though she kept her chin high. "I'll get you out of it. It's my story. I have to end it once and for all." She paused at the doorway, finally turning to look at Prue. A small smile tugged at her lips, bittersweet but sincere. "Besides..." she added softly, "...you have a wedding to get ready for."

Prue inhaled sharply, caught between gratitude and worry.

Leo, ever the practical one, furrowed his brow. "But you don't know how to find the Enchantress," he pointed out, his frown deepening.

Paige met his gaze, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Well, she's after the Prince, right?" she said, lifting her chin. "I'll just backtrack and surprise her."

"No," Prue shook her head, her expression hardening with worry, "It's too dangerous." The words were heavy, as if the weight of the situation were pressing down on her shoulders. She couldn't bear the thought of her youngest sister walking into something that could break her, something they might not be able to undo.

"Prue," Paige sighed, her voice carrying a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. She didn't want to fight, but the pull of what she had to do was too strong. Paige stood firm, her posture a mixture of defiance and vulnerability, unwilling to back down even though she could see the concern in her sisters' eyes.

Phoebe, sensing the need for a softer approach, spoke up, her tone much gentler, "There's no reason for you to do this alone." She stepped forward, offering her support in a way that only she could—gently yet firmly. "It's not just your story anymore. You've got sisters now," she reminded Paige with a small smile, her eyes filled with understanding.

"But…" Piper's voice broke through the moment, her eyes soft with empathy, "…if you want to do this yourself? Then do it."

"I do," Paige answered, her voice a little shaky but firm. The vulnerability in her tone was clear, but there was also something else—gratitude. She was grateful for their understanding, even though she was making a decision that they weren't fully comfortable with.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, we'll be here... with the Prince." Piper's words were a reassurance, a soft promise that no matter what happened, they would be there, waiting. It was clear that even in her quiet hesitation, Piper knew her sister needed to do this alone, to face her destiny and whatever it held.

Paige smiled, the warmth of her sisters' words giving her the strength she needed to continue on the path she had set for herself. She turned away, her eyes meeting the door in front of her as she prepared to leave. Without another word, she walked toward it, her steps slow but determined, each one heavier than the last, as if the weight of her decision grew with each movement.

The door barely had time to close behind her before Prue erupted, her voice sharp with disbelief. "What the hell are you doing?" The question hung in the air, desperate and full of fear. She couldn't understand why they'd let Paige go, why they hadn't stopped her before it was too late.

"Why'd you let her go?" Phoebe's voice was quieter, laced with confusion. She looked between her sisters, searching for answers, but the situation was one they hadn't fully worked through themselves.

Piper exhaled slowly, the weight of the decision settling deeper in her chest. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze soft but resolute. "Because it's time we realized we can't make her do something she doesn't want to do."

Phoebe nodded, a small, understanding smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She had always been the optimist, and Piper's wisdom gave her a sense of calm. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was the one that felt right for Paige, for all of them.

Prue, however, wasn't ready to let go of the fear gnawing at her insides. Her brow creased with worry as she stared at the closed door, her hands planted firmly on her hips. The sharp edge of concern in her voice was impossible to ignore. "You'll wish you never said that if the Evil Bitch kills her," she muttered, the words dripping with concern, the reality of what Paige was walking into suddenly crashing down on her. Every worst-case scenario flooded her mind, and she couldn't shake the vision of losing her sister.