10This is dedicated to Yara, a good friend of mine and who reanimated my love for W.I.T.C.H. Check her deviantart page (YarArts2), she is an amazing artist and her W.I.T.C.H fan-comic, "Hidden Truths" is fantastic!
This follows the comic events (which differ from the cartoon in some details).
Elegies Under the Moon
Nights in Meridian tended to be quiet. Not out of peace and dreams, but of the exhaustion and resignation of those struggling to stay alive under a tyrant's reign.
They felt quite pleasing for Phobos.
Ever since he was a child, he had found the night to be a sanctuary, the time when few people were awake offering peace while soothing the mind of those who sought its embrace. It had remained as such through years and when that particular trait those late hours had been gifted with was felt, it brought forth a liveliness in his blood that his foes would describe as a "wicked joy". Not an unappropriated definition.
Looking out of one window, not towards the dark sky and its white and lilac stars, but at people's homes, he focused and felt it, as if their emotions were strong enough to mate with the air, leaving it pregnant with crushed hopes and despair.
Such a rich taste.
Of course, there were still some who dared to whisper of resistance, of revolution, but those were scattered sounds with no real substance as support. Fragments that still hold on to life when there was no life left, only enhancing people's longing for days when fighting, with the belief (however feeble) of seeing a better sunrise, was still possible.
Those days were long gone.
A fitting punishment. Phobos was no stranger to bearing a dark scar inside that devoured every shred of hope, every small dream, as a creature of fables that fed from still-developing fetuses.
That they were to be tormented by it made him smile.
Poetic justice, one might call it. Few would care to remember ages past, let alone the young boy he had once been, but so it was. The scorned child had risen above them. The prince cast aside was now the one to rule the land. Those who had whispered about him, thinking him too naïve to understand or too caught up in their wishes that the Queen would give birth to a right heir, now shivered under his command. Oh, the day they had needed to bow down to him, realizing their lives were in his hands… And later, when their efforts to take him down had failed…
Yes, precious memories.
The second instance had one more special quality, however. Not, as one would suspect, because he had disbanded those who opposed him and enforced his domination, which turned the hate that fueled so many into a state of brokenness that left no space for dreams… No. It had been a victory in more ways than power or political, and involving something more personal…
Phobos kept walking down the hallway, towards a certain chamber.
Her chamber.
The (former) Guardian of Earth.
Cornelia.
People at times can look around themselves and wonder how a particular event happened, the nature of the path that took them to a certain circumstance. The tone may vary in the specter, from joy to curiosity to despair... Yet, more than often, the starting point cannot be determined, lost in a blurred chain of sounds and images and thoughts that have lost most of their meaning or are not recognized. It's common in life and Phobos had learnt this at an early age, when he came to realize how people of Meridian truly regarded him, what they saw him as.
It hadn't been so much in the beginning of his life, but as he grew and the Queen's body refused to bear another child, one acceptable for the crown, they began to fear that Phobos, like a curse or a bad omen, would turn out to be the only one the Queen would ever conceive… It was no different from a disease, hiding itself and only revealing itself through the damage, making itself known when the body is too broken.
In a similar way, he couldn't say precisely when that girl had, unknowing and unwilling, found a space for herself inside Phobos' mind and heart.
He could remember the first time he had seen her, truly seen her, of course. That mere glimpse through his Whisperers back when they had allowed themselves to be captured in their rescue of the Fire Guardian could barely be counted… It had been nothing, done more out of a natural inquisitiveness of seeing the ones chosen as Kandrakar's Guardians, as well as passing a death sentence that they most likely hadn't understood in its fullest at the time.
In some cases, there was a sort of whim of knowing his enemies' faces, the features that accompanied their names. The rebel commoners could be left for his soldiers to crush, with he exception of a few that revealed themselves to be more skilled; and the Guardians were in a higher level still.
Phobos was no idiot. Completely ignoring one's foes, no matter the despise felt or how pathetic they appear, is to set foot in the path of defeat and he was not without some understanding of Kandrakar's powers, either. So, he had observed the Guardians as soon as their identities were discovered, which had been approximately at the same time his sister was found.
Magic truly attracted more magic. That Elyon had been friends with three of them for years couldn't be mere coincidence…
True, Phobos hadn't known much more about them than Cedric did and it was better if his general sought information by himself. To bring those girls up in a conversation with his sister, recalling the time they had spent together, was too risky no matter how skilled in manipulation Cedric could be or how valuable the info Elyon could provide, even without realizing it, in her reminiscence.
The harm it could do outweighed the benefit.
The way the heart stops when one learns their lives were built on lies, that they aren't who they thought themselves to be and the reflection in the mirror is false, leaves the mind in a state propitious for molding for those of skilled tongues. And as such, Elyon was told a tragic tale of a baby stolen, of a brother left in despair without his only family, struggling to fit a role not meant for him while praying he might see his beloved little sister once more…
Thrown in a world she hadn't ever dreamt that could really exist, learning her parents were not her parents and had stolen her "out of bitterness", that her "friends" were soldiers of "those who would seek destroying her people", Elyon's entire being had been left to chaos and pain. Her past was lie, her present uncertain and her future didn't exist… Anyone in this position needed someone to trust, someone who could say things would be alright.
Everything was more painful when you felt alone.
Elyon had wanted to talk to her "parents" first.
Cedric had faked sorrow. She wanted those who had stolen her? Those whose words had been lies? People had suffered, her brother had spent years plagued by sleepless nights… Cedric had no idea Elyon could have such cruelty in her heart.
It had silenced her plea time enough for him to turn her attention to other subjects.
In the night Cedric had first faced some of the Guardians, he had told Elyon he only meant to speak to them, explain the situation calmly in an attempt to make understand how there was no need to follow orders that would bring pain to their "dear friend". Elyon had actually placed all her faith in the Guardians of Air and Water and the Keeper of the Heart, even if she didn't know the latter that well.
That their powers had responded to danger so quickly had been unexpected and yet, had also worked in Phobos' favor when they accidentally set fire on the building, which could be twisted into evidence that supported Cedric's tale of rejection and an attempt on his life, guiding Elyon to the belief that her friends had turned their backs on her merely because she was not from Earth…
Elyon had been left with no one to trust.
With no place to go.
And when pain is too great, people can be driven to bitterness to cope. Such flame had been fed with care, as Phobos needed to keep it alive until it burned her mind as a truth.
Talking of days of innocence and happiness would only remind her of how close she had been with those girls and jeopardize everything in a way or another. Elyon was to be kept isolated, her focus on her older brother as a savior figure and Cedric as her only friend.
But Elyon was not quite as naïve as it seemed at first.
When the Guardian of Fire had been captured, Phobos had wanted to kill her at once. Elyon had opposed, speaking of how Taranee could be turned to their side… If Phobos was less perceptive, he might have believed this to be her only intention… Underneath her words, he knew, there were remains of care, a refusal to kill and a hold to morals. The only thing he wasn't sure of was whether Elyon was aware of it herself or if it was hidden among the ball of barbed wire that her emotions had become.
Whichever was, in the end she was not quite as compliant as he would have liked.
How bothersome.
As displeasing as it was, Phobos still needed to avoid conflicts with his sister to feed her image of him as a good man, so he gracefully allowed the girl to live while warning Cedric to keep an eye on her and Elyon's interactions. It was his luck that the two hadn't been close enough for either to try actually talking about all that had transpired... And apparently, the Guardian in question believed Elyon a traitor as much as Elyon believed her and the others to be. It was not sufficient, though, for him to dismiss Elyon's initiative.
And there had been another occasion, this time, stronger.
When the Keeper of the Heart had placed herself in front of Cedric, protecting his life and then speaking to the rebels, Elyon had not been blind or deaf. And though the rebellion had already been painted to her as treason (which was hardly a lie in Phobos' opinion), it pierced her sense of justice and later she actually called Cedric out for trying to take Will's life, being quite indignant about it as well.
No matter how nourished her hatred had been, the pain underneath had survived as well as her previous demonstrated inclination for attempting to make things right without unnecessary violence (a nonsense Phobos had snorted at). Cedric had seen her desire to go to Meridian by herself as a natural need to feel free in her new world, a teenager's whim. Phobos had seen it for what it was: The first action of someone waking up from a long-induced dream.
The timing couldn't have been worse as the Guardian of the Earth had just come to Meridian with the intention of seeing his sister, an action he had not anticipated after everything Elyon had done against the Guardians…
Phobos had saw Cornelia Hale while she fought his guards along with the rebels.
And in that moment, Phobos knew two things about that girl…
One, her spirit was fierce. She had all the beauty of a rare songbird and the pride of a hawk that will claw out the eyes of those who dare to try caging it. Oh, the others were fighters as well, he had to admit such, but perhaps out of them, the Guardian of Earth was among those who had it in their souls. Not by need, but by nature.
Second... She would face Hell for Elyon's sake.
He had been aware of their bond, of course. On the night Cedric had been bringing Elyon to Meridian, he had noticed a photo, displaying the two of them together, placed at the side of a family photo; this in the living room and in Elyon's bedroom, which spoke of their closeness.
An irony not lost on Phobos, for when it came down to sibling bonds, the Guardian of Earth was everything he was not. In fact, for all the effects, she was Elyon's sister in everything but blood. The fact she had been willing to come to the Metamoor by herself just to see Elyon could not be ignored and it was this determination regarding the princess what prompted Phobos to decide the blonde to be the most dangerous of the bunch, second only to the Guardian of the Heart… For if the girl insisted on it, she might break the chains he was making around his sister.
And that was also why he had started to spend more time with Elyon.
Due to living on another environment and lack of teaching, Elyon's powers had remained in a hidden state from herself, as to not cause harm, coming forth to her senses in response to the turmoil that followed the revelation of her inheritance, then free to grow into her body slowly, as a muscle never exercised before… The potential was naked to Phobos and he waited the precise moment for taking them as his own.
So, the original plan was kept: To work on his sister on a side while dealing with the rebels and the Guardians on the other…
Cedric couldn't enter those girls' homes, as easy as it would have been otherwise to do so and slit their throats in their sleep, leaving nothing behind as evidence of the act safe for the bodies, which would in turn give birth to stories whispered in the street corners, of five friends mysteriously killed in the same manner in a single night… Although he considered himself above cheap assassinations (in most cases) and the Guardians were deserving of more… Fitting ends, there was something more: An ancient sort of magic was born from them and inherently involved their homes as a holy sanctuary; it would act at once either by warning them of intrusion or wounding Cedric and there was no need to test which would it be when spying from outside was not impossible.
With the moon and the sun carrying on their timeless dance, Phobos found himself growing more absorbed in reports about the Earth Guardian… Not so much of a surprise after his decision about her, only that it was not restricted to the measly info one would seek about a foe... And he had his sorcery at his disposition to help, though it couldn't be used with the frequency he would have liked due to the Wall… Cedric took notice of his Prince's behavior and just once dared to question why his attention was on her and not on the leader, promptly being shocked by the Whisperers. Phobos honestly thought that by now, the shapeshifter knew better than to speak out of turn… Even if the question was not without some merit.
But when he thought about the Guardians, somehow his mind ended up dedicating itself to her and the memories of how he had seen her were alive once more. The way the girl had fought, green energy of life around her… The cold blue flame of her eyes… Perhaps there was little wonder that her name could mean "strong willed". It was also, Phobos thought, appropriated in its refined sound. It suited her.
Once aroused, neither his curiosity nor his interest faded easily.
And so, the Prince learnt more about the girl of blue eyes. About her life. About her family. Pieces of her personality were denounced to him through her actions in the reports he heard and the moments his spells found passage in the Wall. Once, he had seen her with her friends, snow surrounding them in contrast to the grey of the buildings. The Earth Guardian spoke in favor of Elyon, pointing their meeting in Meridian and her belief in her friend, not budging even when the others walked away, not wanting to address the subject, leaving her alone with the Guardian of the Heart, who could only promise to think about what had been said.
At times, disguising his intentions as an attempt of comfort and a wish to help his sister to adapt, Phobos risked… Allowing… His conversations with Elyon to turn towards her friend even if just for a short while and never saying much himself. After that damned encounter of the two, the chances that honey-wrapped lies would be as effective as before in turning her against the Guardians were low, so Phobos decided it was safer to let matter drop, going so far as agreeing to leave them be if such was his dear sister's wish.
It wasn't as if her involvement in his plans to get rid of those pests was necessary, either way…
He considered the Earth Guardian an interesting creature... Thoughts about her came to mind even when not related to the subject of battles or schemes against her group… On one occasion, Phobos had been walking in his garden (on one of the few times when his plans or similar affairs retroceded to the back of his brain) and then, suddenly, he found himself musing about her… It had occurred to him, then, that the Blessing of Earth suited her as well as a second skin. He wondered what she would think of some of the flora of Meridian. It was a natural train of thought, of course… And it appeared to be a shared appreciation between them… After all, the barrier of his castle was made of cursed black roses and the enchantment he had created (ones of the abilities Phobos was most proud of) to bring his Whisperers into existence involved the use of a special flower…
Phobos had always had an appreciation for beauty.
But her… There was more to her than mere pretty features…
Initially, it had been easy to regard his interest as caution with a foe. It was also the most logical reason, so there was no reason to dwell on the matter or to doubt the roots might be unrelated to hostility…
Until Cedric had told him of a flower he had seen in her room. The detail had called the snake's attention because of its aura; a translucid plant whose pale bluish hue moved slowly inside its form with a life of its own, soft crystal and liquid moonstone.
The Guardian… Cornelia… Kept it hidden from her family, but often held it close when she was alone or in hours deep into the night when sleep refused its blessing, leaving the mind to be plagued by bad thoughts as it so often happens.
Phobos knew what that flower was, even if he hadn't seen it.
It had been born of a tear. Hers, most probably.
It was not a basic-knowledge feat.
He knew, therefore, who must have made it and given it to her.
And what it meant.
The idea of Cornelia in her room, wrapped in darkness and moonlight, holding a tear-made flower close to herself as if it was a hallowed secret, it's petals reflecting the light and caressing her face with it as she thought about the rebel leader… And the promise resting inside that gift… Of reunion and a bond between them…
Phobos had longed to rip it to shreds, along with his failed Whisperer.
Perhaps it had been then when he understood himself, a moment of clarity among a sea of fury that had no reason to exist in the context of battles. It hadn't been any sentimental insight, no "light shining in his darkness" nonsense as so many poets had a liking to describe it, it was more as a thought dedicated to something he knew but had never spared conscious attention to. It had caused bitterness, for it was utterly ludicrous, pathetic even, that he would… And for a Kandrakar's Guardian, of all people?! Well, it didn't matter, her fate would be no different than the rest of his enemies… She was just a lamb to slaughter, a foe to be killed, nothing else mattered. The most he would do would be granting her a painless death. Nothing more.
Or so Phobos had believed at first.
It was no use. He had been haunted all this time by the ghost of someone still alive and as much as he held on to hatred, when it was Cornelia the thoughts that followed whether he wanted or not had nothing to do with her death… And damn, it would have been so easier if this was simply lust, no different than a thirst for a particular drink, forgotten once sated…
Even so, Phobos was not one to deny himself.
No. He wanted many things in life, but from Cornelia, he wanted something else…
Phobos wanted her.
Not her powers or a pawn, but her.
It sounded impossible, of course. Even more because he knew enough of her to be aware that, no matter what method of approaching he chose, it would turn out to be a hopeless endeavor… However, so had sounded becoming the active monarch of Meridian. The capacity to get drunk in hopeless reveries had been lost to Phobos when he was a child, but he had always believed in making paths to achieve what he desired.
And Phobos had learned a long time ago that if he wanted something, he had to seize it himself.
And he had done exactly that.
A smile graced his features, one that tended to signify pain about to be delivered or being remembered, in this case, the day that had been meant to be Elyon's Coronation, a day all Meridian's people had considered the start of a new era. And so it had been, in a sense, just not as they had prayed for. The Guardians' initial plan of using a clone of his sister had worked, to his chagrin and the rebellion had broken out, as Phobos knew it would… You can only pull a thread so much until it snaps and he had been prepared with his new annihilators, having seen the day as an opportunity to get his sister's powers and crush the rebels.
Their so called "leader" had been there... A thrill had rushed in Phobos' blood when the brat had sought him out, wishing to engage in a battle, creature versus creator. Maybe Caleb had somehow inherited some of Phobos' taste for dealing with things with a certain style or maybe he was just too eager to play hero… Even fixated on not allowing Elyon to escape, from the coronation stand the prince had seen the brief moment when Caleb and Cornelia had greeted each other and the smiles exchanged, what was revealed in their eyes and it had been as if the softness in their voices rose above the chaos that was being born all around…
His whole being had burned then.
Arresting Caleb would have been most enjoyable, caging him in the darkness and leaving him there to nightmares and madness… However, alive he would still inspire others to stand in defiance and dead he would be a martyr, forever a symbol of hope…
Very well.
Alive Caleb would remain, but no longer able to reach to anyone else and inspiring only pity.
While turning the Whisperer back to what he had once been, there was an extra care in making sure to keep his conscience alive, and along with the waves of power that twisted Caleb's body, Phobos had whispered a single sentence… One that only the other could hear and that would haunt him for eternity.
And eternity he would have.
Despite the pleasure that always followed those acts, it had been stained by Cornelia crying out Caleb's name and rushing to where he now remained as a flower. His anger fueled and the idea of taking her along right then crossed his mind, but Phobos had to deal with the Crown of Light and plan his next step quickly, so such would be disadvantageous. Plus, in his mercy, he could spare her some final moments with the one she had so foolishly chosen to love.
"Did you beg her to stay, Caleb? Aware as you had become in your last moments that she meant for me exactly what she meant for you and more, did you cry in silence for her to stay behind?" The thought made Phobos chuckle. Caleb hadn't understood until that point that creations could never stand taller than their creators.
As for what had followed… Well, there was more to winning wars than mere killing. So, he had sent the Guardians away to fight Cedric, having already warned him that if Cornelia suffered even one of his claws, he would regret it greatly… And proceeded to a one-on-one duel with Elyon. After all, wasn't it the most fitting for the situation?
"And if I was to fall, it would be with my head held high" And as Phobos had told her, had he dealt with her right away, they wouldn't be in need of such formalities now. "But I confess, I was expecting more…"
As powerful as Elyon was, she was untrained whereas he had more combat knowledge and no shame about using tricks. After all, what mattered in the end was not if you had won fairly or not, only that you had won… And even then, during a duel, his sister hadn't wanted to kill him despite what everything he had done, which Phobos considered pure naiveté of her part…
"Quite annoying" The groan was to himself and no louder than a breeze. Whatever Elyon's intentions had been, whatever notion of tampering justice with mercy or sibling care had moved her, the action had not endeared her in his eyes, quite the opposite and he had decided to cease the game by hitting her head with a rock. A most boring and undignified end, but if his sister was going to act the part…
And to think she would have won, had she just trained her powers when alone or, more likely, been more ruthless…
Oh, well.
With her unconscious, it had been easy to force the Crown of Light on her. It had been their deal after all, and Phobos had never said she had to be awaken. And it was her luck, as well, for the pain otherwise would have been far too much.
The surge of power had been tremendous… And it belonged to him and him alone. Even now, Phobos felt it as if he had just received it: It lived inside his blood, bond to his body as his own natural magic, forever fresh, forever strong. How he had longed for that! How whole he had felt! It went beyond his wildest dreams!
With his new powers, he was a match to the Heart itself. Cedric had been unable to get rid of those girls, which should no longer surprise him, and within moments of battle, Phobos had them caged, deaf to their demands to know what he had done to Elyon as he debated with himself how to better deal with them…
It was a… Complication, of course. For as much as he desired to spill Elyon's blood and take his time breaking the other Guardians in every possible sense, it would hinder his long-term plans regarding Cornelia. And there were enough thorns in his path as it was…
So, he solved it in his own way, deciding to send them back to Earth while divulgating nothing to the populace. Let them think whatever they wanted… Like Caleb, Elyon could become stronger with martyrdom and cries of revenge for the Queen would echo throughout the land, but with a disappearance, insecurity would find its birth among the people and slowly, Elyon would fade as a dream… Within years, she would be no more real than a myth.
He frowned slightly. Well… True, some time ago a couple of remaining rebels had attempted to sneak into the castle, most likely moved by the belief that the Queen was still alive and in chains, but they hadn't been able to pass the Black Roses (no one ever was) and had lacked the organization once seen, demonstrating how the rebels were hardly a shadow of what they had been in the past. The weeks those two had lasted before succumbing to the torture had been enjoyable, though.
With his dear sister and the other Guardians, Phobos had made himself clear: If they were to ever set foot in his domain again, he would kill Cornelia. However, if they stayed away, she would remain alive and would be well treated as a… "Ward" of sorts. Just another pretty term for "hostage", they understood. Elyon had at once snarled in refusal to leave her friend at his mercy and the Water Guardian had been the first of the rest to break free from shock, screaming curses at him.
Couldn't they understand?
They had lost.
Not that he had minded having an excuse to make it clear to all of them how much their power levels differed now.
"Oh, would you prefer risking her life? What marvelous friends you are!" In his smile, there had been the (fake) promise to send them Cornelia's severed members should they ever entertain the idea of a "rescue". Not that any of them would ever be able of entering Meridian again, not after the precautions Phobos had taken… But it was always good to leave a mental bridle, in case sentimentalism got in the way of rational thinking. This time, he was not the one caged, but was rather caging the other world out.
"Yet, I allowed them to live, against what would be in my best interests. Only later you understood how it was a gift for you…"
And in the end, not even the Oracle could do anything for Cornelia's sake.
Though Phobos doubted he would anyway.
"You know you're easily replaceable, dear." He had told her once, while she stared ice daggers at him. "Why would Kandrakar bother? Have they ever interfered to offer you help? Or to anyone else, for that matter?" She had just ignored him, as if deeming his words unworthy of a reply.
It didn't change the fact that Phobos was right.
Knowing about the variety of power to be found, he also knew quite a bit about Guardian's powers and was willing to bet the girl's childhood had been punctured by small events that denounced its presence. Perhaps a flower coming back to life on her desire, objects shivering due to a strong emotion or stranger events that had felt too natural, until the blindness of humans to magic had tainted her senses as she grew, and that power fell dormant, not entirely unlikely Elyon's. But it was still there. Magic was energy, manifesting itself under several shapes and the elements of nature could bond with humans from time to time, maybe blessing them with some particular talent or, in cases such as hers, more than just that… Kandrakar merely opened the ways of the blood, allowing it to run free and their bodies to host all they were meant to.
The Congregation had some rituals of calling some of those powers back, a complicated process that usually demanded contact with said person and was not failsafe. All of this came down to just one thing: Even if the Oracle was to strip Cornelia of her position as a Guardian now, that force would never leave. It was part of what made her as much as her heart or her mind.
Her friends, who could be trying to come up with an idea, any idea, that might help them to take Cornelia back, would doubtlessly be against it, but the time would come when the Oracle would have no choice but to replace her, as Phobos predicted.
Cornelia's agreement to stay (though the term was an exaggeration) had been made on the condition that Phobos swore to leave all of her friends in peace… Still at first, she had clearly not trusted him to follow with it anyway, only later coming to understand that it hadn't been due to coincidence or her powers that he had chosen her to be the one to stay.
How shocked the girl had been when, finally alone with her after the nasty business of the rebellion had also been dealt with, Phobos had revealed his actual intentions towards her and being responded with disbelief, as Cornelia openly stated that he made no sense and it could only be another one of his lies, a poor attempt at manipulation… A stubborn reaction, but no less comprehensible. Days had passed until she could no longer elude the understanding, and the acceptance that followed, that there was no deceit and though usually in charge of her emotions, her mask of despise had cracked enough for him to glimpse the fear underneath. It had bothered him, but he tried to brush it aside…
After all, as Phobos would always tell his beloved, they had time. And time could change many things…
"Only if by making me hate you more by the day" Was her usual reply when he said so, trying to ignore his snicker and his lips brushing against her face with a gentleness one wouldn't associate with him.
He could wait.
The doors to her room were snow-white, adorned with blue and silver veins, the latter repeated on the silver that encrusted their frames of marble. His knocking was more to warn her of his presence than anything else, though with little need as the girl was by now used to his visits at this hour, but Phobos was still a gentleman.
This was not the same room Elyon had used, of course, as Phobos was sure Cornelia would have known somehow and it would have displeased them both, though for different reasons. This one was across his own chambers, a place no one else got close to (not for Phobos fearing an assassination attempt, of the likes he knew had crossed Cornelia's mind, as the spell-wards and the sleepless Whisperers guarding the doors prevented such). He had overseen the preparations himself, keeping in mind what he knew she favored after learning of many of her hobbies and tastes.
Her accommodations were the epitome of elegance in a flawless combination of white and light blue and no one could take it for less than it was: A Queen's chambers.
Cornelia's reception was a cold stare from the couch chair she was sitting on, a book resting on her lap, the firelight in the nightstand at her side half-illuminating the room, playing with the shadows while not diminishing the effect of the moonlight that entered through the windows. Phobos was not a designer, but had done great with the room if he said so himself; it truly belonged to her and some details resembled those of her Earthly one (to help her feel more at home).
"Good evening, my Queen" The same shiver of always ran her spine, out of hate at being called such by him.
"Do not call me that" She groaned holding a sigh. Phobos lifted an eyebrow in amusement at the reply she always gave, taking note of the undertones and how her back remained resting against the chair.
"My dear, I am the King. So, it follows that you're the Queen" He waited to see (and evaluate her disposition a little more through it) if this would be one of the times she would snap that Elyon was and always would be the Queen as she often did, or something along those lines in her usual display of undying loyalty. Not tonight. Cornelia sighed, rolling her eyes as if in annoyance, placing the book on the nightstand and turning the flame-like light out, though she was not about to go to bed yet. It made little difference, the moonlight was strong and its beams gave a pale quality to what they touched, not allowing the chamber to be in total darkness.
"You appear to be tired…" It was more a statement than a supposition, as he was educated in the subtlest signs of her mood as a husband who has been married for ages. And her weariness was not consequence of a long day or its activities. It was more of a soul-related feeling.
"It does get strenuous, I know. Perhaps then we can make some progress tonight…"
Cornelia stood up when he approached, walking to the balcony beyond the glass-doors to give her attention and mind to the night. Phobos took a moment to appreciate her figure kissed by the moonlight, not worried that she might throw herself off the balcony, for the hedge of small flowers that surrounded it would sense her desire and hold her back due to his spell.
Cornelia was aware of that as well.
She wouldn't ever escape him.
Before joining her, Phobos glanced at the book. She had started studying Meridian writing and the library also had some books that Cedric, by his orders, had brought from Earth when he still worked in a bookstore (after all, Phobos had chosen that place to be used for a reason more than just convenience). While many were mind-numbing, there had been some he had found pleasing.
"At which chapter you are?" He offered as a conversation-starter. Phobos was careful to give Cornelia time to herself, but along with their always-shared meals, he would spend hours with her every day and come by her room for a visit before retiring. With little to no choice in this matter and perhaps out of weariness or needing at least a moment of normalcy, there were occasions when Cornelia would give in. They talked about many subjects, including their readings, no matter their nature.
"And how we both enjoy it. You cannot deny it, no matter how much it bothers you…" It was in the shine he could tease out of her when telling of some play, which she might respond by telling one of her home. Afterwards, Cornelia tended to become cold as if in shame, but was unable to erase the moment or how she had appreciated it.
This, however, was not one of those occasions.
Cornelia said nothing.
"Isn't it a pity to waste such a beautiful night?" He asked at her side, carrying on unperturbed when she offered no reply. "I've always found it quite peaceful." She said nothing to it either, and except for a brief tension on her face, there was no reaction.
"Unless you spend it with thoughts of sorrow…" Cornelia looked at him for a second before turning her gaze away. That had touched her, whether she had been reminiscing the past or sending her thoughts to unknown faces. He leaned to her, just enough so his voice could brush against her hair. "Then it becomes too long, does it not?"
His words were from experience.
"Why you insist in drowning in unnecessary misery is beyond me. It doesn't have to be so…" It truly didn't and she was way past the point of misconceptions about his intentions. This truth was what made her face turn to him.
"And what? Close my eyes?" Disdain dripped from her hiss. "Will myself blind to reality?" And her gaze went back to the horizon, this time in a show of stubbornness. Although her view didn't face the city, it was as if she was seeing the houses right now.
"Oh, yes, that particular point... It is one of the most troublesome." Still, he merely cocked his head briefly, a gesture of dismissal not different from a shrug, with no regrets or apologies to offer for his actions.
"Many do so, right in your planet. And you know it" Not that either of them felt up for a debate on the subject and he was merely teasing her out of a silent treatment before heading to the intended field. Cornelia nodded. She was not ignorant to nature… And people could be the same everywhere, even those who were not humans.
"Many, not all. Certainly not me. And certainly not my friends." The emphasis on the last phrase was meant as a blade and carried more than just one meaning. Even here, even after everything, she refused to think of herself as anything less than a Guardian and her values, like her faith in her friends, did never waver.
"I could dissect your argument in this matter… But not today. It's not what this night is about and, as a conversation topic, your "friends" can be so dull" Standing behind her, his hands caressed her bare shoulders before slithering down to rest on her stomach, his arms nestling her body against his as the white and teal sleeves of his robes fell in front of her. With the proximity, he felt her warmth as much as she felt his.
Her muscles hardened deliberately and she leaned her head and shoulders a little forward, but not enough to place much distance between them and no other movement was made, to which the man smiled to himself, enjoying being able to hold her like this with the girl not breaking away at once.
"But aren't you refusing part of reality as it is?"
"No, I'm perfectly aware of it." Her whisper could be taken as uncaring, but it held the meaning that she was refusing him. Phobos nuzzled the top of her head, which barely reached his neck, taking in her scent as he briefly pulled her closer, in the way one would do when trying to help a lover to relax after a tiring day.
Rare were the times Cornelia allowed physical contact to last for so long. Indeed, keeping her defenses up all the time, trying to fight when there was no way to fight, could get old on her system.
"But it can make you more willing to listen, truly listen"
"I'm not so sure of it…" His low whisper played in her ear when he lowered his head, his tone as light as if they were discussing some banality of no real importance. "Is this out of some misguided idea of sharing the woes of others? Surely you don't believe this can make any difference?"
"It's more like a sense of right and wrong. Of justice." Some sarcasm came to her, as if she expected those to be foreign concepts for him. He chuckled, his chest trembling against her back and an almost imperceptible shiver ran over her skin… It could have been either out of discomfort or of a repressed wish to snuggle in his embrace.
"Still, some other woman might have been stupid enough to try using your position, but not you" Indeed, it pleased him how Cornelia never tried to sway him or make use of seduction as a weapon, such being too much against her principles and too close of hypocrisy for her own taste. "And you also know better than this. I wonder if you ever realize how much we know each other…"
Not that Cornelia merely ignored how he ruled or was ever shy in her opinions, confronting him frequently, especially when it came to her knowledge something he had decided or done to the people, be it recent or not. Whereas others had learnt to never question him (and those who had regretted it until today), she faced no consequences for her defiance… Not that Phobos changed his decisions, though. And his explanations (which were never given to anyone else) did not please her either.
"Because you know they have base in truth. They are meant as small teachings. You're still too resistant to allow yourself to be taught in a more direct way… You have power, but little understanding of its other aspects."
But oh, how he adored that fierceness of hers. He couldn't help but to imagine how it would be to touch her, to take her to the peak of pleasure, her nightingale voice screaming his name over and over.
"Soon, soon… You just need some time more, my love." And how rewarding it would be for both of them. "You won't be able to reject me forever, as much as you want to…"
"Those are relative, my dear and at the mercy of perspective"
He didn't need to look at her face to know she was rolling her eyes.
"I fail to see how it can be "relative" what you did and what you do" No need to enlighten her in that matter, so Phobos let it slide. He would do so slowly and someday approach the subject in more directly, but not today… Justice, by itself, was like a tale and when brought to real life, it was cheap to buy and played with.
"One does what one must. It's the nature of the world. Most go on with pretty words, but no actual care… It's too much trouble." To this, Cornelia shrugged as to say it didn't influence her own views in the slightest, while unable of calling it a lie. "Would others do this for you in return?" Those she defended might be as eager to weep for her behavior as they would be to sacrifice her to him if it meant a better chance at life. Had she stopped to think about it? He didn't allow her to voice how it didn't matter to her.
"If you wish to deny yourself happiness because others are suffering, then you would be just as miserable on Earth. This self-sacrifice of yours has no reason to exist. So why would you choose to feel like this?" He understood well that this wasn't quite what motivated her mood, but it was not the point being truly addressed. Cornelia groaned and made an attempt to get free, but Phobos wouldn't allow it this time, his grip tightening without causing hurt.
"On contrary, I think I have a plethora of reasons!" Her teeth were clenched. Very well, it was enough pushing then. No need to provoke her into a confrontational state, so Phobos merely sighed.
"Don't we all?" They remained still, looking at each other until Phobos nuzzled her briefly, whispering. "All you're doing is cheapening yourself as a hawk who believes itself a canary" She could fly higher, and yet, preferred to cage herself in blind limitations. In some aspects, she could be as innocent as Elyon had been. Cornelia stared at him and seemed about to answer something more… But decided to not extend the conversation.
"My choice, then." Was her only reply with a shrug, breaking the eye contact and holding a sigh. Phobos' hands caressed her arms in a way meant for comfort, trying to ease her once more. She was young, after all. He would have time to teach her and his words would remain inside her, keeping her company even when she was alone.
"Yes. You're already marked. And you know it"
Cornelia's muscles remained still for a moment more and she offered no extra argument, as if by now hoping that Phobos would be satisfied with this visit and leave her be. However, Phobos took the chance of her considering the conversation over to kiss the spot where shoulder and neck united, seeing when she bit her lower lip instinctively.
He could give promises of pleasure with the most otherwise innocent of touches.
The promise of a man's touch, not a simple boy who could give her nothing.
"And am I so terrible? Has my company never been pleasant?" The answer was in the moments when Cornelia had been too tired to keep the constant hold on despise and then, her heart had been touched against her will. There had been instances when Phobos had made her laugh, had captivated her attention during their conversations and once, Cornelia hadn't been able to push him away when Phobos, upon finding her weeping, had taken the girl in his arms and proceeded to soothe her.
He could make her feel loved. He could make her happy.
"This" Her voice sounded involved in ice. "Doesn't matter"
"Little liar." He smiled against her flesh "It does. And that's why it frightens you so"
"Oh, doesn't it?"
"No"
"No need to push it" Phobos reminded himself. "Not when we both know the truth"
"What is truly your mind this night, my dear?" His whisper caressed her skin, touching her nerves and invoking a response she didn't wish to feel, be in her body or her heart.
Cornelia kept her head held high while turning her attention back to him, all of her stiffening up once more in rejection, the moonlight giving her blonde hair a silvery veil and complimenting the blue of her eyes.
"My freedom"
He didn't even flinch.
"Your freedom lies with me. You know this" It would be an unpardonable presumption if taken literally and not as how he would be the one to teach her to fly, reaching further than what Kandrakar had determined for her. His lips moved against her ear before leaving a kiss on a particular spot of her neck, in a touch so light that it could have been of a feather, as his red goatee brushed against her skin and his hand lifted her chin as to get a better access. Phobos had to refrain his wish to leave a love bite, a mark.
He was a very possessive man, after all.
"This is what you're denying yourself. You can use words as a shield, but they are useless against what you feel. What I make you feel" And Phobos knew this wasn't just a body reaction, out of her control. He could see it her eyes. "Yes. I've told you, love, time can change so many things… No matter how much we wish for otherwise"
The kiss was one more burn under her skin; it would keep her company that night with the essence of what she was denying herself. The battles were over and he had won. Why care what others would think, when the chance to be happy was right there?
"And you know I'll also give you whatever you may desire. And so much more"
"Stop it" She growled, doing a good work at suppressing a moan. Phobos complied, as he always did. "And get the hell away from me!"
Phobos didn't hide his displeasure when she rebelled against his hold, releasing her.
Moonlight pouring over them, wrapped by the darkness, they stared at each other.
Cornelia stood in defiance. Her pale skin accentuated by the pearly dark green of her gown, sleeveless and plain despite her wardrobe having the richest clothes, from fabrics that were like silk or velvet to others that could have been made of the essence of dew or morning mist and equally diverse in models and colors. Phobos didn't spare luxuries with her, but Cornelia would always show preference for the simplest dresses the seamstress made, which the prince knew to be a way to express refusal of his gifts.
Her jewels also remained in boxes, though Phobos knew she had been tempted to wear them and been unable to not examine them. Perhaps Cornelia didn't know, but he was very much aware that she had given some to the seamstress and to others who had access outside the castle, maybe wanting the jewels to go to those who could try using them to buy food. It was such a silly gesture that he had been exasperated (not to mention insulted), but in the end, had decided it harmless enough to be ignored.
Nevertheless, she had chosen to keep some of them, even if she didn't seem to recognize it as a choice.
In the end, even with the simplest dress she had, for all effects, Cornelia could easily pass by as a born-princess of Meridian, born to be his consort. Born to be his as he was hers, as unaware of it as she was (or maybe just rejecting the latter with all her might, for accepting it was the first step to accept the former).
The idea of the Guardian of Earth, the Daughter of Nature and Sister of Life being consort of the God of Fear, the Son of Darkness and Brother of Death was at the same time, entertaining and fitting.
Even if, for now, it was still an ongoing battle between the two of them.
All the better for him and all the worse for her, actually. Both knew that her resistance made the hunt all the more enjoyable and when she gave in, he would get what he wanted. There was no victory for her...
He had won.
"I'll never stop fighting you" Cornelia snarled between her teeth with the coldness of an unceasing blizzard: Constant and everlasting. Phobos couldn't help but to smile at her, with no mask to hide his emotions.
"And I'll never let you go" It was more than a reply, it was reality made into words.
He approached her, gently holding her face before the girl could make a move, his finger caressing her skin. Cornelia glared at him, both tired and angered as his eyes touched her facial lines, then her eyes.
"You would be a great model for an angel painting" He knew how some human painters tended to represent the heavenly beings with golden hair and blue eyes. Cornelia would definitely look the part.
He kissed her lips. A brief taste.
Leaning to her, Phobos whispered a single sentence.
"But even angels fall"
He released the girl, deciding to leave her with those thoughts and his touch still alive in her flesh.
Yes, Cornelia would eventually fall. And Phobos would be there to catch her.
And the Heavens would weep.
Second chapter will come soon and it will focus on Cornelia's side of the narrative.
Thanks everyone for reading it! I hope you'll leave a review telling me what you thought of it.
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