+++

They thought they were prepared for it.

Logan had never been really loved by their so-called allies, even less since their parents died and he took their place on the throne –he’s young and quick-witted, well-versed in the arts of politics and diplomacy.

They couldn’t fool him with treaties and complicated negotiations, they’d learned that soon enough –Roman has had more than once the satisfaction to see that realization dawn on their faces, standing proudly at his brother’s side while barely being able to keep himself from giving them the smuggest smile he can muster.

So yeah, both Logan and Roman have always been very much aware of the fact that most representatives from the neighboring kingdoms aren’t very fond of them. Still, never in a million years could they have predicted it would all come to this.

Roman stares blankly at the ruined blue robe in the guard’s hands, eyes fixed on the dark patches covering the all-too-familiar golden ornaments –that’s Logan’s coat, he would recognize it anywhere, their family’s crest almost impossible to recognize under all the dried blood that’s Logan’s blood those bastards killed his brother-

“My prince,” comes a voice from his side, the captain of the royal guard stepping forward with a gaze as hard as steel and his mouth set into a thin line, “this means war.”

Silence falls in the room, heavy and charged as the prince takes a deep breath and straightens his back. When Roman opens his eyes again, they’re blazing red, a familiar fire burning inside him as his magic rumbles angrily in his soul.

“Then war they’ll have.”

+++

When Roman marches into war, there isn’t a single ounce of doubt or regret in his mind –those bastards have taken his brother away from him, and he’s dead set on making them pay for it dearly, no matter what it will take.

At that moment, he’s more than ready to sacrifice his own kingdom if it means Logan’s murderers will burn down with it. Who cares if he survives it all? At least his brother’s death will be avenged.

Sadly, that’s not what happens.

Their enemy is strong and organized, having meticulously planned for this since the very beginning –Roman’s kingdom has always had a remarkable military force, but with so little time to prepare compared to their opponents, it’s no wonder it goes as bad as it does.

The battle lasts barely a month, the opposing army quickly piercing their defense and pushing them more and more into retreat. It’s not long before they get completely overwhelmed, crushed and defeated.

Roman never admits defeat, not completely –even as his army is decimated right in front of his eyes, even as his kingdom is set ablaze and he’s forced to kneel in front of those he once called allies.

“You will pay for this,” he seethes even as his face is pressed in the mud, magic boiling helplessly in his blood even as the enchanted restraints he has been put in keep it at bay.

“Oh, little prince,” they smile, drunk in their victory as Roman’s home burns to ashes around them, "we'd like to see you try."

Roman roars in anger, kicking and struggling and biting even as two guards haul him to his feet and start dragging him towards his own castle.

"Lock him in one of the towers,", one of the leaders says, waving them away.

"After all, what's a prince without his castle?"

+++

Our story should end here.

It should end with Roman sitting in the sealed tower, left alone to rot away in the place he once called his home.

It should end with Roman trapped forever in the dark, left with the knowledge that his kingdom is in shambles and his brother's death will never be avenged.

That's the end fates had designed for him, this cruel destiny written in the stars from the very moment of his birth, and yet.

And yet.

An uninvited guest knocks at the door.

+++

If you were to ask Roman what he remembers from that fateful night, he would tell you it was dark and stormy outside -and he would be right.

Let's picture it together -thunder and lightning flashing outside, rain pouring from the sky as a lonely prince stares blankly at the ceiling of his cell, wondering when the end will finally come.

Then, a knock comes through the silence, startling him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Roman's first thought goes to the guards tasked with shoving food into the cell -never enough to really satisfy him or leave him at top strength, but just enough to keep him alive and healthy enough to not risk starvation or dehydration.

(He's also pretty sure they periodically slip in some sort of magic suppressant, his powers feeling weak and dormant in his blood, but Roman has figured that would happen the moment they removed the enchanted restraints from his wrists -if that hadn't been the case he would have already blown up the entire tower.)

Then, he frowns and throws a confused look at the tiny excuse of a window hovering several feet over his head -yup, still nighttime, the absolute darkness punctuated by sudden sparks of lightning as the storm outside keeps raging on. And since the sun hasn't risen just yet and he gets food only once when the night comes -which he remembers happening just a few hours prior- Roman's pretty sure that's not a strangely considerate guard, knocking to make their presence known.

So, that begs the question: who is it?

As another knock resounds in the otherwise silent cell, Roman cautiously stands up and quietly shuffles towards the closed door, hoping to somehow gain more clues about whoever is on the other side.

His hand hovers just a few inches from the door, a strange feeling pooling in his stomach as Roman suddenly finds himself hesitating -it's like a pull in his gut, a sense of uneasiness he finds eerily familiar, like a puzzle piece he knows is missing, but can't identify.

The resounding click of a lock coming undone jerks Roman out of his thoughts, sending him staggering backward as the door swings open and a cloaked figure calmly shuffles in.

"Hello, Your Highness," a voice draws from under the cloak, the figure hunching forward in what Roman can only assume is meant to be a bow.

"Who are you?" He asks, standing tall -or as tall as he can, his weakened legs barely holding up his weight as he warily looks at the stranger.

"Oh, I'm nothing but a lonely man seeking cover from the unforgiving weather," the figure hums, "I do hope my presence here is not unwelcome?"

"... No," Roman says after a moment of consideration -there's something about this man, a sensation Roman cannot name but that still makes all of the hair on his body stand up, goosebumps covering his arms as a little voice in the back of his mind warns him to be cautious, "just unexpected. May I ask who do I have the pleasure to talk to?"

"People call me Dee," the man answers "it is a pleasure to meet you, my Prince."

"Oh, please, stop with the formalities," Roman huffs, looking away as he nods to his cell, "as you can see, I am anything but a prince right now."

"And why would that be? You're standing in your castle, and your kingdom and subjects are still out there-"

"Yes, suffering and dying for a war I brought us all in!" Roman exclaims, anger coursing through his veins as he takes one threatening step forward. "And at what cost? We were defeated, utterly annihilated, and now my kingdom is burning under my own eyes and there's nothing I can do to stop it. So no, I am not a prince, because I'm the farthest I can be from deserving that title right now."

The stranger lets out a noncommittal hum, tilting his head to the side as he watches Roman pace angrily around the cell.

Then, he smirks, small, pointed fangs glinting in the dark of the room.

"Who says there is no way for you to change all of this?"

Roman freezes on the spot, his posture tensing as his mind registers the stranger's words.

"Please," he finally answers, shaking his head as a bitter chuckle escapes his lips, "how could that even be possible? I have no army, no friends, no magic. Let's face it-" he turns once again towards Dee, opening his arms as he gestures to his cell- "my fate has been written: to rot alone in this sealed tower -scorned, despised, hated, destined to be forgotten in the sands of time while those who destroyed my home feast and bask in my family's death."

"No destiny is set in stone, Your Highness," Dee counters, smirk never once leaving his lips, "least of all yours. You have a connection, prince Roman, and that connection is the cause of your misfortune."

Roman blinks, confused. "A… connection? To what?"

"Not to what," Dee hums, a hand reaching out from under the cloak as yellow sparks suddenly fill the space just beside him, "to whom."

That's the moment Roman's mind screeches to a halt, the last few minutes playing in his head as the uneasy, cautionary feeling that has been nagging him since the moment the door had opened finally, finally falls into place. Because those sparks are eerily familiar, dancing and falling through the air as a dusty old mirror stands tall at Dee's side, glass glinting in the dark as Roman takes a wary step backward -he's one-hundred percent sure that mirror wasn't there until a few seconds ago, so the only possible explanation is-

"You're a magic user," Roman whispers, eyes wide as his gaze travels back and forth from the mirror to Dee.

"That I am, my prince," the man grins, "did you not realize? You have magic yourself, after all."

"My magic has been severely weakened in order to keep me here -you'll find that it is quite arduous to sense the magic around you when you can just barely feel your own."

"I suppose that makes sense," Dee concedes with a tilt of his head, before gesturing to the mirror, "but let us not dwell on unimportant matters-" he says, beckoning him closer- "do you not want to know the reason of your misfortune?"

Still unsure, Roman warily steps forward until he's standing right in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with confusion evident in his eyes.

Grinning, Dee leans forward and whispers something, the ancient language of the druids of old rolling effortlessly on his tongue as the air around them suddenly feels charged -like something ancient and incredibly, incredibly powerful is slowly awakening in that lonely tower surrounded by the fires of destruction. It's a foreign feeling, so far away from the sense of security Roman is used to when in presence of magic -and he knows, he knows that should render him far warier about Dee and whatever he's trying to show him, there's a voice in the back of his head that sounds a lot like Logan yelling at him how he should step away immediately, this isn't normal, you don't know what is happening-

And yet.

And yet.

Roman doesn't look away. He keeps standing there, as if trapped in a trance, as the mirror's surface starts glowing, lighting up the room for a few seconds and making Roman close his eyes on instinct when the light just becomes too much to look at.

When he opens his eyes again, Roman can't help the surprised gasp tumbling out of his mouth, gaze transfixed on the mirror's reflection as he tries to properly register what he's seeing.

From the surface of the mirror, a young boy lets out a delighted laugh, his blonde hair reflecting sunlight Roman can't see as pure happiness dances in his eyes -blue like the sky on a sunny day, Roman distantly notes, glinting with joy from behind a pair of big, round glasses.

"Who… is that?" Roman asks, not quite able to conceal the way his voice has almost turned breathy in his stupor.

"In the world through the mirror, everything is set in reverse," Dee reveals, "this boy's fate is deeply intertwined with yours -his happiness is your sadness, his luck is your misery, his kingdom's peace?" The magician looks at Roman, smirking widely as he watches the realization of his words' meaning dawn on him, "your kingdom's destruction."

Roman takes a step back, face pale as realization gives the place to horror. "That can't be true."

"And yet, it is," Dee says, shrugging, "fate chose to give him a happy, fulfilling life and carelessly throw you aside. Such a pity, isn't it?"

"That's-" Roman's breath is quick now, heart hammering in his chest doubt and fear swirl and clash in his mind- "that's not fair!"

"It isn't, isn't it?" Dee agrees, "you could have been great, given the chance to prove your worth. And yet, fate preferred that boy over you -it took away your brother, your kingdom, your happiness, just to give that fortunate boy a destiny that should've been yours. What a shame, really."

Roman clenches his fists, taking in a few deep breaths -he wants to scream and cry and curse at the universe, Dee's words echoing in his head over and over as rage rushes through his veins. But he can't let himself go just yet, not as long as the mysterious magician is standing in front of him and watching his every move.

"Why are you telling me all this?" He asks instead, voice surprisingly steady as a storm rages inside him -he can distantly feel his magic react to his emotions, thrumming deep inside him as it pushes and slams against whatever is keeping his powers locked away.

"As I said, no destiny is set in stone," Dee answers with a grin, "that happiness was yours, and it is only right that I help you get it back, is it not?"

Roman frowns, keeping his expression schooled even as he can feel a spark of hope make its way into his chest. "And how would you do that?"

"Just say the word, my prince, and everything your heart yearns for will be finally yours."

Deafening silence falls in the dark cell, the air charged with a million possibilities as Roman finds himself with his heart's greatest desire standing right in front of him.

He looks at the boy's blue eyes, his smile shining like a thousand suns, and feels something inside himself harden into stone, nodding his head towards Dee.

The magician lets out a boisterous laugh, yellow sparks dancing all around him as the mirror's reflection darkened and disappeared.

"Your wish is my command, Your Highness!" He exclaims, magic whooshing around Roman as his own seems to react to it -he can almost feel the familiar tingling sensation traveling up to his fingertips, warmth flowing through his soul as yellow magic fills his vision.

"The scales of destiny have been replaced!" Dee announces as Roman feels his consciousness start to fade.

"So forget everything, my prince-" a fanged grin, green scales shining in the light as Dee's cloak falls away- "and rejoice."

A single, yellow eye meets Roman's gaze.