The Second (The Immortal Prophecies: Book I)

Epilogue

Ecgberht could not contain his joy at the realization that Guenevere was alive after all this time he had waited for her. His soul could sense her as soon as she returned to Camelot, his magic infusing with that very aura inside to strengthen again his power.

The one glance he had managed to get from her as a child stayed with him to the date, and until he should meet that memory developed years later, his duty to her would remain as unbroken as the hope behind his eyes.

But the odd thing was he felt disturbance when he tried to reconnect with the princess, like a contradicting wave of power battling over his for control. And more puzzling was the oblivious nature in which she regarded both forces, turning her cheek from him for the source of the other power. Yet, Ecgberht couldn't find the courage to face the claw of the Eagle, at least for now, and decided to discover the fibers that made up such power to ravel Guenevere in its grasp.

He felt Lincoln was a danger to her, given that same sensation he felt in one of his rescues to her Highness, and until he could put his foot on it, he would have to be of protective use otherwise. Like the glow of his sapphire gem in the ring of his finger that alarmed him of her being in current danger. Attentive, he focused on getting through to her, shutting his eyes in order to see what she did.

The fear hit him first, like a blade slicing his body in two, but when he saw the direction that it was angled at, it all boiled into a fierce anger that was the size of the beast within him. It growled protectively, and he sent his spirit to take charge of Lincoln to stop causing her this pain. Unable to hear their conversation, he stood before the princess with all bravery, facing his opponent, ready to use his abilities to force him away. But the weird thing to him was that Lincoln wasn't attacking, and his intentions to Ecgberht weren't what he thought they were. Judging by the mark on his enemy's skin, it looked like Guenevere had already changed his motives, without Ecgberht. And what she felt didn't mirror what he was feeling towards Lincoln.

The invisible rope he held from her soul was released, and she fled from him like he was the plague, letting him feel the regret as she ran, sobs escaping her mouth. Ecgberht couldn't believe what he saw, nor could he believe that he had let her down--let this happen. Returning to his time, he regretted not having the chance to speak to her and tell her the unknown things she still had to learn about.

"There will be time for you to become who you are meant to be. And I will be here waiting for you again," he said, rubbing the sapphire that was the closest he was going to get to the princess.

***

The laugh--it was all a blur to him. As well as the gentle stroking of her hand on his cheek as he lay apon her silken skirt. Having her portrait here would most likely result in his beheading, at least he thought so, but seeing her face and mumbling her forbidden name was worth the clean death apon his head. As a sharp knock interrupted him, he slid the portrait back in place, compelling a concealing spell apon it as the servant entered. "Your father wishes to have a word with you." He sighed, striding down the hall to meet with him, wandering what task required of his talent, shoving his services elsewhere as he poised for the conversation he would have.

"You called, Father?" He asked of him, sitting behind his study.

"Yes, Fabian." Dimitri paused. "It seems we may have a slight predicament within our lovely family of sorts. Other than the missing prophecies, the Eagle's old fiends might have found a way back to him, and you know Morgana's schemes of despotism with her magic. The poor idiot also upset his partner somehow earlier in their visit and has her weeping for God. Pity."

The news didn't interest Fabian, quite the opposite, actually. He had enough meetings with every member he had encountered--my what fun that was, too--and having a clue at what his father was suggesting, he wasn't thrilled for more interactions with the details in mind. "And you want me to fix this...how?"

"I don't know, son, but go with them to ensure they acquire what we need, and keep them from ravishing at their pitiful emotions of guilt and hatred. If I could, I wouldn't need them, but it's not like I can hop into the glass and go for it myself, not after that spiteful witch used her magic on me." Morgana, right. It was her doing that made his father unable to succeed as the rightful Executive with his lack of ability. And having her son add fire to the wood by stealing his fate was the cork in the wine.

And it was Fabian's job as Dimitri's son to return the favor. "Supposing I agree, which of course I would, what plans do you have for me regarding his partner? She probably wants nothing to do with me for all we know." Just as I with her.

"Leverage. It was clear to me that she looks at me like dung, so I was hoping you could give her a few words of wisdom. That mind of hers has worth as good as the king's, and perhaps her advantage as part of the royal family could do us good."

Then he understood the altar importance of the girl everyone thought so highly of--she was their connection to the beginning. Shame he was off on an errand the day she passed by. "Right. You asked for them in day's time, correct?"

"My generous heart gave them however they needed. Planning to see the gem of the Pillars?" Father turned to his son, sounding proud at the quickness of his idealness.

"Of course. I've gotten quite bored at the study material you handed me--read more than a few times already. I do belive new material is required for further learning, Father."

"Excellent, my son. Now, if you would excuse me, I have plans to arrange." He slipped out of the room once his father's back turned to him, rushing back to the portrait he couldn't keep his eyes off.

Hauling out from behind his wardrobe, he observed much like his father had during his work as the Executive, but he didn't have the will to, softening at the color accurately captured in her eyes--his were a replica. For the remainder of the night, he lay on his bedroom floor, trying to understand why someone as magnetizing as she would somehow, in a puzzling life, end up repelling herself away from what she claimed was her only love.