AN: THANK YOU EVERYONE who reviewed or sent me messages. They have been cherished and I appreciate every single one. This has been a fun story and I'm thrilled to have taken the journey with such wonderful, lovely readers. Thank you for everything! I am humbled and honored by all your kind words.

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EPILOGUE

Twenty two years later...

"It's too tight."

"No it's not, stop tugging on it." Ella smacked her husband's hand for the umpteenth time. "You're going to make it askew."

"This is such a mistake."

"No it's not. Stop thinking like that!" Ella glared at her husband, which was difficult as he was so tall and she so short. Not to mention Ella's large belly between them.

"This is a terrible mistake. You mark my words. He's going to disappoint her and then I'll have to wipe all of them out for making my little girl cry."

"She's not a little girl anymore." Ella chastised. "She's an adult."

"She'll always be my little girl," Keldor sighed. He gazed at his wife in tired resignation. Though blessed by Keldor's magic, both were starting to show some age. Keldor had a few silver hairs along his temple, giving him a distinguished look of a man in his early thirties instead of mid-sixties.

Ella was beginning to show grey strands among her shining auburn. There were a few more lines around her mouth and at the corner of her eyes, but like her husband, she appeared younger than her true age. But the love between them had not diminished in the two decades they'd been married. Which was also evident in Ella's rounded belly that was carrying their eighth, (and final in Ella's insistence,) child.

"I know sweetheart," Ella said, looping her arms around her husband as far as she could. "But she's a big girl now. It's time to let go and let her have a life. Let her have a husband. A family of her own. Don't deny her love."

Keldor sighed in resignation, knowing his wife was right. He didn't like it, but his little girl was grown up, and ready to start a new chapter in her life. He was never one to deny her anything and the thought of her in heartache from being denied a family of her own was enough to sway him. Course she also rivaled him when it came to magic, and he had no doubt she could perform some powerful spells if provoked to such anger.

He was so proud.

"Okay, but my promise still stands. He hurts her and I kill them all. No hesitation. No mercy."

"Yes, my love,' Ella said, leaning forward to plant a kiss over her husband's heart. She knew he may act a softie when his children were concerned, but if they were threatened, he was still powerful and formidable. The land would see devastation as it hadn't witnessed since the dark ages.

"Daddy?" The call was soft and timid. Keldor immediately snapped to attention, finding his daughter standing in the threshold, her sparkling white gown flowing about her in rolling waves of billowing snow. She had her mothers flaming auburn hair and gentleness, but her father's grey-green eyes and tall stature. She also shared his bearing, always personifying the perfect lady of the court.

"Oh, sweetheart, you look beautiful," Ella gasped, rushing to her daughter to embrace her.

"Thanks, Momma."

Ella exchanged light kisses with her daughter, her face shining in tears. "My baby is all grown up." Sniffling, she touched her belly. "I'll alert everyone you are ready right after I go to the bathroom." She shuffled out the door with her husband and daughter smiling in her wake.

The quick delay gave Keldor a moment to gaze at the perfection that was his first born. He had been expecting a son but was quite surprised when a daughter screamed upon entry. "You look positively amazing, little princess."

"Thanks, daddy," she said, sniffing back tears. "Don't make me cry. It'll make me look ugly." She flicked her fingers, immediately correcting any flaw to her makeup. She was her father's daughter, and her magical ability was as prominent as he had foretold.

"That is something you could never be,' Keldor said, embracing his daughter tenderly. A tear slid down his cheek as the full magnitude hit him in the chest.

His little girl was getting married.

Elders, where did the time go? Only yesterday she was a tiny screaming bundle that kept her parents awake days on end. Now here she was. Her snowy white gown and glistening crown jewels making her every bit the princess she was born to be. Keldor had fashioned her dress out of diamonds and starlight. It was his best creation yet.

The music started in the distance. She held out her arm and asked softly, "Walk me down the aisle, daddy?"

"Anything you ask, princess," Keldor muttered. Schooling his features he straightened his back and proudly marched his daughter down the aisle. As he guessed, there were many gasps of awe and wonder as the bride made her way to the groom, who beamed more brilliantly than a thousand suns. He accepted his new bride and escorted her to the man who would bind them in matrimony.

Keldor took his place by his wife's side, their other six children flanked behind them. He watched in dumbstruck fear and elation as his daughter became a wife. The young man she chose may not have been his first choice, but there was no denying the love and devotion shining in the young man's eyes.

Love was a funny thing he realized. It had brought him to Ella and now his daughter to her new husband. Keldor clapped with the assemblage as the newlyweds exited the room, heading into the grand banquet hall for the celebratory feast. Looping his wife's arm in his own, he started to the door, and arrived at the exact same time as his new, distant in-laws.

Which also happened to be his half brother and his wife.

"Randor." Keldor said through pursed lips. The few times the two had been in contact, tensions were high but there were no harsh words, fights, or wicked magic performed.

Randor looked every bit his age, which had not been kind to him. His back was bent and glasses allowed him to see more clearly. His face was lined with wrinkles but they were mostly hid by the grey hair and full beard. Randor may have been born a few months after Keldor, but he did not have magical blood to slow the deterioration of time.

"I know we haven't always seen eye to eye," Randor started. Even his voice sounded aged and cracked. "But I'm willing to be cordial, if only for the sake of our families."

It was in that moment, when the aged patriarch spoke that everything became clear to Keldor. He had spent far too long resenting his half brother for the position he was given. But Keldor had a far better life. His own kingdom, now bigger than Randor's, was forged of his own making. A kingdom he would pass on his to his oldest son, who like all his children, shared his gift of magical blood.

"The past should remain where it is buried,' Keldor said, glancing down to his wife's swollen belly. "Let's focus on the future." The sounds of newlywed laughter filtered from the dining hall. "After all, our children will be inheriting our legacy, and I for one, would like to leave behind something they can cherish and be proud of, for their own children and grandchildren."

"Well spoken,' Randor nodded. His wife smiled, agreeing with the sentiment.

"Perhaps we should sit together," Marlena offered.

"Good,' Ella said, grabbing her husband and tugging him toward the banquet. "I'm starving."

"You're always starving," Keldor said good naturedly.

"Hey, I'm growing your heir in here," she patted her stomach. "That takes a lot of work and food!"

"I'm not complaining,' Keldor grinned, pinching his wife on her rounded bottom. "I love it when you're growing the next heir. So much more to play with."

"Oh, you're terrible!" Ella barked, scandalized. She didn't miss the saddened look on the other couple's faces. Vaguely she wondered if they had tried for more children but were unsuccessful. She could relate to such heartache.

Keldor swept his wife up into his arms, holding her as close as he could. He relished the bump of her belly and the heaviness of her breasts. It always excited him to see his wife pregnant. He kissed her lips, tenderly, passionately, before dotting kisses along her jaw, forehead and finally, to the tip of her nose. "My love."

The romantic moment was shattered by a ten year old's voice. "Gross dad. Not in public. People are going to puke."

Keldor raised a brow at his son, then nodded to the bride. "Go give your sister a kiss and well wishes." When his son started to whine and stamp his foot, Keldor raised his voice, "You heard me."

Pouting, the little prince went scampering off to his sister, who immediately rained kisses on him.

Randor's son approached, looking every bit the king. He had taken over his father's title when the King had fallen ill. Adam was a shadow of his former self, his own face now lined with coming age and the weight of his kingdom now pressing upon his lone shoulders.

Keldor heard word that Adam's Queen, Teela, had fallen ill shortly after delivering their son and had passed away. Adam had never entertained the idea of taking a new queen, but rumors drifted that he often sought solace in Castle Greyskull.

"Father. Mother." King Adam surveyed his parents with a critical eye. "Come, let me help you to your seats."

Keldor expected a lot of bile to rise in his throat at seeing his daughter's new father-in-law, but his usual hatred wasn't existent. He offered a respectful nod to the noble and escorted his wife to the table, where Randor and Marlena sat nearby. Adam scowled at the pair but didn't voice any objections.

"Condolences on the loss of your wife," Ella said sincerely.

Adam gave a quick jerk of his head in affirmation and took his leave without a word.

"He still mourns," Marlena said sadly, watching her son offer a half hearted congratulations to the groom. Like Keldor, Adam did not approve of the marriage.

Randor tried to speak but choked on his words, coughing and sputtering, gasping for breath. Marlena cried out, catching her husband before he fell out of his chair.

Keldor yelled for a healer but Adam was already rushing over. The other guests backed away, fearful of what may happen. It was no secret who Keldor once was. He may have been given a face again, but his misdeeds as Skeletor still haunted nightmares of those who witnessed his tyranny long ago.

"What have you done, you evil creature?" Adam spat angrily, looming over Keldor who remained crouched at Randor's side.

"He did nothing, Adam,' Marlena said, trying to temper her son's anger. Tears streamed down her face. Her lower lip trembled. She was barely holding on by a thread. "Your father has been ill. You know this."

Adam's son wrapped his arms around his father and held him tight, both for support and restraint. "It will be okay, Dad. I swear."

Adam struggled against his son, snarling at him. "You're only saying that you because you married that evil whore! But I know who he is. Who he truly is! What he is! That will never go away, no matter how much he changes his looks or tries to act civil!"

Keldor barely gained his feet, ready to avenge his daughter's honor, but much to his shock, her new husband performed the deed himself. The impact of heavy fist to face echoed in the room. Adam's head whipped around from the impact, blood erupting along his lip.

"That is my wife and you will show her respect, dad. I won't put up with your hatred toward her or her family."

The healer arrived, sidestepping a shocked Adam.

Knowing his daughter's honor was defended, Keldor knelt beside the healer, watching as the man waved a scanning device over the frail king. Several minutes passed, Keldor's eyes fixed on the readouts along the screen. Adam remained nearby, nursing his busted lip. His son stood in front of him, protecting anyone else from his father's wrath.

Keldor recognized several of the medical terms. His half-brother was sick. Very sick. Afflicted by an ancient disease that riddled the body and shut down organs, one at a time. Most languished under its decay for many years, finally succumbing to its hold when their bodies could no longer function properly. It was not a pleasant way to meet one's demise.

And judging by the readouts on the screen, Randor was halfway through the agonizing death wrought by the disease.

Randor wheezed, struggling for air in lungs that were slowly losing their ability to function.

"My Lord, you need rest," the healer said, tucking away his scanner. "I will summon a medical bed to transfer you to your quarters."

"Don't bother,' Keldor said, lifting his half brother up into his arms easily. "Lead the way."

The healer hurried out, Marlena following close behind. Adam broke free from his son's grip and marched behind his mother. Ella tottered along shortly after, her condition making it hard to keep up. She was worried she would be needed. Either to help tend to wounds, ease a widow's heart, or to soothe a son's heartache.

Keldor carried his brother down the long halls, his arms barely taxed by the weight. When did Randor become so thin? The long ceremonial robes he wore for the wedding hid how frail he had become. Keldor guessed his brother had lost nearly half his weight.

Keldor deposited the once proud and haughty king on his bed and turned to the healer. "It's the disease of the ancients, isn't it?"

The healer nodded. "I'm afraid so. He has been suffering for a couple of years. None of my treatments have worked. If anything, it has progressed even faster. It's extremely aggressive, destroying him."

Adam gained the room in time to hear the prognosis. He fell against the wall, stunned by the news spoken so loud, so definitively, that the reality hit him anew. He stared, helpless and scared at the man who raised him. He barely felt a comforting hand on his shoulder as his world started to spiral into chaos and despair all over again.

"I know a few spells," Keldor said to the healer, then turned to Randor, who was half conscious. "They have worked for many severe illnesses. However, I have never attempted them on someone with the ancient affliction. But if you wish it, I will try."

Randor blinked slowly, his lids heavy. His voice was raspy and thin. "You would do this? Save my life?"

Keldor sighed, running a hand through his hair and making it stand up on end. "You are family. We may not have enjoyed the conventional bond of family, but I would like a chance to try."

Randor offered a weak nod. He had been living on borrowed time. Already he could hear the low thudding of his heart in his ears. The beats were weakened and unevenly spaced. His time was coming to an end.

Keldor placed his hands on his brother's chest, and took a deep inhale. The healing spell he was about to attempt was complicated, but it had been a gift from the Elders when he read it all those years ago from the enchanted spellbook. Many lives had been saved due to its power. He only hoped it would work for this malady.

"Please." Adam's voice was small, hoarse. A tiny little boy potentially witnessing his father take his final breath. "Help him."

"I'll do everything I can," Keldor promised and started the long, complicated spell work. Some words were spoken softly, others with tumultuous thunder that shook the room. Keldor's hands worked complicated patterns as he commanded the feeble body to expel its toxic disease and heal itself.

Randor moaned, thrashing a little as bright yellow light engulfed him. With a scream he went rigid, the light flaring to brilliant red before going out. Randor lay motionless atop the bed.

The healer immediately employed his scanners. Keldor stepped back, his shoulders slumping in fatigue. The spellwork always took a lot out of him.

Adam trembled, staring at the inert form of his father. Ella's hand squeezed his shoulder, her arm circling around him and drawing him close for support. He trembled in her embrace, fearful to hear the declaration that haunted his darkest nights.

After a few minutes the healer spoke. "It worked." He turned a shocked expression to Keldor. "There are no signs of the disease on the scans."

"You... you are sure?" Marlena asked hesitantly. She didn't want to get her hopes up only to see them dashed upon jagged rock.

"I'll run some blood tests to confirm, but according to the scanner, there is no trace of the chemical make up of the disease."

Marlena clutched her chest and dropped to the bed, weeping in relief. Adam choked back a sob, too overcome with emotion to speak. He took comfort in the woman holding him upright and soothing his distress as if he were her own child.

Randor's eyes fluttered open, clear and unmarked by disease. "Keldor?"

"Yes, Randor?" Keldor asked, leaning over his half brother.

"I have a position available as my chief healer. Would you be interested?" Randor gave a weak smile. A lifetime of animosity evaporated as if it had never existed between them.

"Sorry dear brother, but I have my own kingdom to heal and protect." Though their rift was newly mended, Keldor couldn't help but add the jibe, "And my kingdom is bigger."

-THE END-