The Princess Returns Victorious  

Zander watched from a secluded vantage as Amara's royal fleet sailed from Pelian's harbour, dwindled, and vanished over the horizon. Exultation suffused him. The Hallow Skull was his at last. Soon its arcane secrets would be laid bare. None could challenge him now.

Aboard the flagship, Prince Velkan addressed the assembled soldiers, carrying his voice clearly across the water. "Brave warriors! Our duty on Pelian is done. Where discord reigned, now there is provision and peace. Praise warriors and workers alike!"

A rousing cheer went up at his words. Velkan let it continue a moment before raising his hands for attention again. "All played their vital part. But let us acknowledge Princess Amara, whose wisdom steered us aright!" He turned to gesture toward his sister. "Hail the Princess!"

"Hail!" The men's shouted acclamation echoed over the waves. But Amara looked distracted. Her smile was turning brittle as she raised a hand briefly in acknowledgement. Velkan's own grin faltered. He moved to inquire discreetly regarding her mood, but she waved him off.

"It is nothing, Velkan. Weariness only." At his doubtful look, she relented slightly. "In truth, a misplaced keepsake troubles me. But the present course is set." Her tone brooked no further discussion.

"Hmm…" Mystified, Velkan withdrew. His sister's thoughts oft followed unfathomable routes. Perchance her rogue companion knew better how to ease her strange humours.

Below in the ship's stern, Amara turned to stare back at the vanishing isle with troubling emotions roiling beneath her placid facade. The loss of the Hallow Skull gnawed at her relentlessly. Leaving without determining more felt akin to failure. But broader concerns now constrained her choices. She could only trust hidden purpose lay in this trial, however bitter its currents.

Rhys approached to stand beside her with a flinty face. "You show them the sunny sky, yet clouds linger." His blunt words held no judgment, only concern. "That trickster has wronged you and sees no justice."

Amara turned eyes burning with unshed tears upon him. "His guilt remains uncertain. I must believe patience will reveal our way." But conviction in her own arguments rang hollow.

Rhys's jaw tightened. "Sometimes wisdom lies not in gentle trust, but decisive action. Your kindness blinds you to the dark hearts of men." He studied the growing distance between ship and shore. "I should have pressed him...or planted a blade in his gullet."

Amara laid a hand on his sword arm. "Violence breeds only greater woe. And the greater share of blame lies with me for letting down my guard." Her shoulders slumped as her anger fades to weariness. "I pray only that the thief finds no evil use for it."

Rhys's ire softened at her change of tone. He drew her into a comforting rough embrace there at the rail, heedless of watching eyes. "If any can chart the right course, it is you, Amara. My faith does not waver."

She clung to him wordlessly, drawing on his strength. Doubt still ached deep within, but she must master it. Her people needed their princess steadfast and assured. Rhys's stalwart compassion would anchor her through these straits. She breathed deep of sea air, squared her shoulders, and turned resolute toward the horizon. What was lost remained so. But the future's page lay yet unwritten. Hope must keep sight of that truth.

The crossing to Cerulean passed swiftly aboard the war galleys. Too soon its white cliffs and familiar sprawling architecture came into view. Amara stood tall and still at the prow as the flotilla passed through the harbour mouth into bustling port waters. The bittersweet tide of memories near overwhelmed her as the flagship glided into its berth.

Lord Xanthus himself awaited on the busy quay, his hand upraised in formal welcome. But his smile showed genuine joy as Amara descended the gangplank alone, a herald of her return. "Well met, daughter!" He moved to embrace her heedless of attendant courtiers' whispers. "Word came of your triumph on Pelian. You have grown wise indeed!"

Amara returned his familial clasp, blinking sudden tears away. "The homecoming brings much joy, father." Xanthus's evident pride helped smooth lingering regrets. She had won her place here anew. That certainty must calm deeper misgivings.

Trumpets blared announce as they crossed sun-dappled courtyards toward the throne room. Amara suppressed reflexive anxiety at the imposing fane. Her role here was changed - no more an interloper but a leader who had proved her worth. She lifted her head proudly as all bowed before her, then ascended the dais to kneel gracefully at her father's feet.

Xanthus raised her up and bade her sit beside him before addressing the murmuring assembly. "Lords and ladies of Cerulean, long last we welcome home the daughter heaven granted me. Her deeds on Pelian will be recounted through the ages!"

Nobles bowed and applauded obligingly as Amara inclined her head in modest thanks. When formality concluded, Xanthus dismissed the court, clearly eager for private council with her. Arm in arm they adjourned to his solar overlooking the harbour. But Amara's dread only grew. How to explain her blundering failure?

Before she could begin, hurried footsteps heralded Elissa sweeping in to embrace her warmly. "Daughter, praise the goddess! You are restored to me also." Her keen eyes searched Amara's. "You seem worn thin, child. Pelian's burdens were heavy indeed?"

Amara managed a tense smile. "Well enough for now, mother. The challenges sharpened me, though at cost." She steeled herself. "But I fear the proving is not yet behind me."

Xanthus frowned thoughtfully as she haltingly told of gaining the Hallow Skull in secrecy and subsequently losing it to unknown hands. His weathered features grew grim, but Amara was surprised to feel her mother take her hand comfortingly.

"You blame yourself overmuch, dear heart. Power sought too hastily often betrays those who grasp it." Elissa smiled sadly. "Even wise souls can yet err." Amara heard the echo of shared experiences in her mother's gentle tone. It heartened her sorely.

But Xanthus remained solemn. "Be that as it may, a fell relic in the wind bodes ill, whatever the cause." He rose to pace, brow creased anxiously. "All our hopes teeter in the balance. Darker forces than ever gather beyond the horizon."

Amara's own dread redoubled at his ominous words. "What tidings, father?" She exchanged an uneasy glance with Elissa. Xanthus's frown only deepened. When finally he spoke, his voice was grave.

"Word came this morn of a strange fleet sighted navigating beyond the Misty Isles, making way hither under tattered sails. They fly no known banner. Ominous rumours spread." He shook his head vexedly. "In my bones, I feel doom's approach. But the course is unclear."

Amara rose swiftly to join his side with resolve crystallizing from fear's mire. "Then I shall help determine our own course before tides overtake us." She clasped his broad hand. "Bitterness and doubt bring only paralysis. Together we will face the trials ahead."

Eyes shining with pain and pride Xanthus covered her hand with his own. "You are a true queen already, Amara. But even thrones cannot hold back midnight forever." His tone softened. "Rest now from burdens, if only a little while."

Amara managed a small smile. "Gladly, father. And we shall talk more on the morrow." She pressed his hand before turning to follow her mother out. One breath at a time, they would pace each challenge in its turn. Faith kept sight steady on that simple hope.

***

Back in familiar boyhood chambers, Zander secured the door and reverently placed the satchel containing the Hallow Skull upon a reading table under bright lanterns. The humble trappings of his rented lodgings mattered not at all now. The means of unlocking passion's gate lay within his grasp!

With trembling hands, he opened the sack and withdrew the lacquered reliquary box. Arcane glyphs shone across its inlaid surface. The true amulet of souls. Destiny balanced upon a blade's edge before him.

Hardly daring to breathe, Zander eased up the lid. Even shrouded in protective cloth, ruby radiance set his pulse hammering wildly. The Skull's power was quiescent for now, but roused it would consume mortal minds. He must proceed prudently.

Mouth dry, Zander peeled back the final cloth veil and gazed directly at his prize. The grinning Skull sat heavy in his palms, avid light pooling in its empty sockets. So small a thing to hold such fathomless promise and temptation! Zander fought the primal urges its energy kindled in his blood. He must remain disciplined.

Mastering himself, he carefully replaced the concealing shroud and sealed the vessel. There would be time and place enough to explore the Skull's secrets soon, with proper preparations made. Its unbridled force could shatter minds and souls if unleashed heedlessly. Patience was paramount.

A faint edge of regret tempered Zander's exultation as he locked the box away for now. Wise or not, he had dealt Amara grave loss. But the fateful die was cast. Conscience must not hamper his audacity. Too long had he savoured only knowledge's crumbs. The full loaf beckoned, worth any cost.

Tomorrow he must conclude business here and charter swift passage back to Solaris. Seclusion there would allow study of the treasure's revelations at leisure. None would know to seek him among that decadent Isle's myriad pleasures and secrets. Meanwhile, his Pelian trade partners saw only profit's horizon, ignorant of true powers now in motion. Let them congratulate this venture's gains! Their small dreams failed to grasp what he now commanded.

A plump merchant underling arrived the next day with ledgers for inspection ere Zander's departure. He feigned attentiveness while itching to be off, nodding blithely to accounts and bills of sale. The greasy fellow was effusive about exploiting new trade avenues once deemed forbidden or unprofitable. Zander concealed his impatience. Such grubbing concerns were beneath notice. Had not a king's ransom in knowledge already fallen into his lap?

Yet until anchored safely in his distant stronghold, mouths must be fed with lies. So he played the ambitious but earthbound financier, speaking shrewdly of warehouses and storehouses, ship schedules and tax law. All the tedious minutiae so vital to those unaware of higher spheres. Let them congratulate their cunning while he dallied no longer than essential.

When at last he was able to usher out the departing ink-stained functionary with oily thanks, Zander closed the door and loosed a shuddering breath. The stifling mask could finally fall away! Soon he would shake off this dust-speck isle forever and unlock the realms that called from beyond the stars. Nothing could prevent his ascension now!

Zander whirled with sudden foreboding, straining every sense. Nothing seemed amiss in the cluttered chamber...yet for an instant he had felt eyes watching him. All at once the walls seemed to crowd oppressively close. He must be away without delay!

Hastily gathering only essential items, Zander slipped out through servant ways into gathering twilight. Making straight for Pelian's seedy wharf side taverns, he secured discreet passage off-island aboard a shady merchant brigantine heading deeper south, no questions asked. More coins changed hands to ensure his nondescript effects were likewise embarked without examination. None must dream of the prize contained therein.

Soon Zander lounged atop swaying rigging, watching the isle's torchlit hills recede into night. Exhilaration banished fear's excess as the Hallow Skull drew inevitably nearer to unlocking. What revelations awaited beyond veils of flesh and bone! All of history's sensual secrets would be laid bare. Unworthy souls might call it heresy, but he craved only wisdom in its highest form.

A rogue swell nearly unseated Zander from his perch. Cursing his wandering thoughts, he scrambled to maintain balance. There were years ahead yet to plumb the Skull's mysteries once secured in his stronghold. This voyage was but the first leg of a lifelong journey. He must keep his wits sharp and avoid fatal missteps.

Regaining the deck, he stared aft at Pelian now vanished wholly into black horizon. Strange that as those rugged cliffs faded, a hollow ache bloomed in his chest almost akin to...regret? Zander shook himself angrily. Such faint hearts would not deter him now! Conscience eroded resolve that must remain ironclad. Before destiny's tides, all souls must choose their course.

The stout brigantine bounded onward through moon-silvered swells. Zander clung to the rail taking salty air in great draughts, purging the staleness of stuffy ledgers from his lungs. At his feet lay the unmarked canvas sack containing the future's promise. All that mattered was the beckoning unseen horizon. Let his laughing rivals ply their petty trade! He now sailed courses far beyond their timid grasp.

A lone hooded figure stood watching pensively as the anonymous ship carrying far more than common goods slid over the night horizon. Only after its running lights dwindled to sparks did the watcher turn away into drifting banks of mist over the shadowed quays. A long voyage yet lay ahead...but Zander's dreaming course was now clear. All unfolded according to design. The traveller moved on slowly but inexorably, soon vanishing between the salt-encrusted warehouses. Much depended on steadfast faith when darker tides ran strong.