So exciting things this week! I hope that everyone enjoyed the Accidental Immortal. An immortal named Fin has been kicking around my brain for a while now. I only recently had a revelation of how he became that way.  I have a lot of plans for Fin. He will have his own series called inFINite. I also know a lot about Eleven that I am holding back for now.

In bigger news, the Princess' Path was finally updated with the fourth installment Power Play. In this we finally learn what Myriah has been up to all this time. A new character was also introduced. I added an new picture to the story (I didn't want to make you wait any longer).

The next story will be Powerless and then the final installment of the Princess' Path, A Journey's End.

As you all know, I don't like specifying ethnicity in my stories, but when I do art, I feel that I should state it better. Specifically for Caroline. I had a fair about of trouble painting Caroline the way I picture her. Caroline is half Caucasian, half Filipina. Her hair is lighter than black but not quite brown, it's lightened more from exposure to sunlight than anything else.

The end of Power Play will have lasting ramifications for the characters. I hope you liked the twist!

The fourth installment in the Princess' Path.

Note: This is a long one, so for the full story you really have to click read more.



Hans glared at the goblin. He did not enjoy dealing with these low caliber villains. They probably didn’t even have a plan, a motive, to abduct Caroline beyond the glamour of kidnapping a princess. The goblin cowered before Hans, his comrades lying at the prince’s feet.

“Where is she?” Hans asked coldly. The trembling goblin led Hans through a series of tunnels to the room where Caroline was being held. An hour and several unconscious goblins later, Hans was walking through the door of his house with Caroline hanging off his arm. Joan looked up from her work, which was spread out on the kitchen table.

“Back already?” Joan commented. “Guess it wasn’t Myriah then.”

“Just some smelly goblins, thank goodness.” Caroline declared dramatically. Her lip curled in disgust, either over the goblins or the thought of Myriah. Joan rolled her eyes.

Hans had tried to get his sister to be nicer to Caroline, but they just didn’t get along. Hans couldn’t really fault Caroline for it. She made a real effort with Joan. Once Caroline realized that Joan didn’t enjoy shopping or spas the way she did, Caroline had tried a dozen other activities with the younger girl, even skateboarding. Joan remained as dismissively irritated by Caroline as ever.

“Why would you even bring up Myriah?” Caroline asked Joan. The mere mention of the witch clearly distressed her more than being kidnapped by goblins. Joan shrugged.

“It’s been a while.” Joan looked back at her notes. “I just thought she was due.” Hans’ jaw tightened. Myriah was due to attack. She was far past due. They hadn’t heard from her since the incident at the party. Six months, by far the longest they’d gone without hearing from her since Myriah first began her vendetta.

“Well, maybe she’s dead.” Caroline suggested hopefully. Hans’ stomach twisted. The thought had occurred to him as well, while the weeks, then the months, wore on. Unlike Caroline, Hans was less than enthused. His fury at Myriah for her actions at the party had faded. Now he was desperate for her to return, with her broom, cauldron, and unconventional methods of… encouraging Caroline to use her gift.

Caroline sniffed and her nose crinkled. “Oh dear, Hans, do you mind if I borrow your shower? Goblins are not terribly hygienic, and what with them manhandling me…” Hans waved his hand.

“Help yourself.” Caroline smiled and kissed his cheek lightly before ascending the stairs.

“I see it doesn’t even occur to her that you won’t be able to shower until after she is done.” Joan scoffed once Caroline was out of sight.

Hans sighed. “Can’t you at least try to be civil, Joan?” Quiet resignation filled his voice. Joan snorted.

“Caroline hasn’t even tried to help anyone in weeks.” Joan was utterly scornful. “Whatever respect I might have had for her is fading fast.” Hans couldn’t exactly argue. He took a seat at the table and leaned back.

“She doesn’t do well without motivation.” He said, closing his eyes. There was a silence. Hans was starting to relax into it, barely.

“You’re worried about her, aren’t you?” Joan asked.

“I’m always worried about Caroline.” Hans replied without moving.

“Not her.” Joan shook her head. “Myriah.” That got Hans’ attention. He looked at his sister. Joan looked back at him with a piercing gaze that he rarely saw from her. It made Hans consider what he said next.

“Myriah makes Caroline… better.” Hans marshaled his thoughts. “She doesn’t just force Caroline to heal.” Hans recalled Myriah’s many monologues to Caroline. Monologues, disguised as villainous rambling, they were full of disparaging remarks about the princess. Things that Caroline wanted to prove wrong. “Myriah,” Hans struggled with his next words. “Makes Caroline want to heal.” Even after they left the hospital or warzone Myriah left Caroline in, Caroline carried Myriah’s cutting remarks with her. Things Hans was sure that Caroline remembered when people sought her help. Hans glanced at the door to the stairs Caroline had vanished through and inwardly sighed. “It’s something that only Myriah is capable of, and I don’t know what to do with out her.” Hans laughed hollowly. “It’s heard to believe, but Caroline’s worst enemy is also her greatest ally.”

Joan didn’t laugh. She just watched him. “Do you think Caroline is right? That Myriah is dead?” Hans’ insides twisted again, even more than before. Joan could not know how much Hans didn’t want that to be true.

“I hope not.” Hans’ desperation bled into his voice.

“Then what?” Joan demanded, tossing her notebook aside in frustration. “Where did she go? Why isn’t she here making Caroline a tolerable human being?!”

“I don’t know.” Hans put his head in his hands. “The only thing I can think of is that she realized that she went too far at the party and backed off because of it.” That or Caroline was right, but Hans didn’t even want to think about that.

“Does that mean we are hoping she goes bad again?” Joan asked. They both stopped and thought about that. Joan started to laugh. Hans slowly began to chuckle. They weren’t exactly sure why they were laughing. Maybe it was the ludicrousness of them hoping a bad guy turned good would go bad again. Or maybe it was the fact that they were talking about an enemy like a friend. Either way, it had become hilarious.

“What is wrong with us?” Joan gasped. Hans just shook his head and tried to stop laughing.

There was a knock at the door. Joan, her shoulders still shaking with laughter went to answer it. “What’s so funny?” The black haired beauty framed in the door way smiled at them quizzically.

“Oh, come in, Tiffany.” Joan waved her inside, still trying to get a handle on her laughter. Hans attempted to compose himself, but the occasional half laugh still found it’s way past his defenses every few seconds. Tiffany stepped inside with a gracious smile.

“Thank you.” She walked over to the table and rested her hands on the back of a chair. Tiffany had been Hans’ friend since elementary school. “I heard that Caroline was kidnapped again, so I thought I’d come over to see if I could help.” Tiffany smiled at Hans. “I take it from your demeanor she’s back home safe?”

“Safe and sound.” Hans nodded.

“Good.” Tiffany smiled. She reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. “I’m glad.” There had been a time that Hans and Tiffany might have become something more. Then Hans discovered his destiny as a prince… A prince always fell in love with his princess. Always.

Joan suddenly cursed, breaking the moment Tiffany had tried to initiate. “Hey, language!” Hans frowned at his little sister.

“Sorry.” Joan said distractedly, gathering her notebooks and pens in her arms hurriedly. “I forgot, I’m meeting a partner for a project! I am so freaking late!” Joan dashed up the stairs. Hans heard her sprint down the hall and crash through the door to her room.

“Careful!” Hans shouted.

“Sorry!”

Hans shook his head. Within thirty seconds Joan was darting out of the door with barely a goodbye. The front door slammed behind her, leaving Tiffany and Hans in the kitchen.

Hans’ thoughts turned back to Myriah; where she was, what she was doing, when Tiffany spoke quietly. “I wanted to thank you again.” Tiffany looked embarrassed. “For convincing Caroline to save her. I wasn’t sure if Caroline would heal a dog.” Tiffany’s dog was a thirteen year old lab, incredibly old for a lab. “Midnight seems so much better. I think Caroline might have healed more than her kidneys.”

“She might have.” Hans nodded. “I saw you walking Midnight last week. Her arthritis seems better.”

“She walked for four miles!” Tiffany said proudly, sitting in the chair she’d been leaning on. “It’s like she’s five years younger.” Hans smiled. He had a lot of great memories of that dog. It was good to know that she was doing better. “Tell me, has Caroline’s healing gotten stronger?” Hans blinked.

“You noticed it too?” He started to smile slowly. “It was hard to tell, since she hasn’t been…” Hans trailed off.

“Been healing as much.” Tiffany finished. She bit her lip and looked away. “Yeah…” Hans’ smile slipped away completely. If even Tiffany was bringing up the lack of healing, the others must be talking about it constantly when he wasn’t around. They sat there in silence for a moment. Tiffany looked at Hans and then away. When she did speak it was hesitant. “I have a question.” Hans looked back at her. He knew that voice. Tiffany wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to say it or if she even should. He put his hand on her’s and squeezed. She looked down at his hand. It was an invitation to say anything she wanted. “Do you love Caroline?” Tiffany’s voice was low and tentative. Hans blinked, startled. Tiffany couldn’t look at him.

“I… I’m her prince.” He said through a dry mouth.

“That’s not what I asked.” Tiffany pulled her hand away. Her dark eyes fastened on his face. “Do you love her?” Hans swallowed with difficulty. How could he answer that question? Tiffany continued to stare at him, then she released her breath.

“I thought so.” Tiffany looked away. “Hans, you need a better reason that ‘because you’re her prince’. You deserve better than that.”

“I do love Caroline.” Hans protested. He felt like he needed to defend the relationship. Tiffany looked back at him and he faltered. Now he couldn’t even defend Caroline? “Or, at least, I did…” Hans rubbed his face. “I love her sometimes.” Those times had become fewer and farther between as the weeks without Myriah wore on. The rest of the time… When exactly had his feelings for Caroline gone from love to duty?

When he looked up Tiffany was still watching him. “It’s complicated.” Hans said, his voice muffled by the hand on his mouth.

“Then let me make it simple.” Tiffany said in an uncharacteristic moment of bluntness. “Would you love Caroline if she weren’t a princess?” Hans froze, not just his body, his mind too. They sat there.

Tiffany finally shook herself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t…” She was much less sure of herself than she’d been a moment before. “I just…” Tiffany swallowed. “I just want you to be happy.” She looked away from him, biting her bottom lip. “And I don’t think you are right now.” She stood. “I’m sorry, I should go.” Hans stood up and hugged her.

“Thank you.” He said into her shoulder. Tiffany hugged him back. “Did Joan coach you?”

Tiffany half laughed into Hans’ chest. “Not exactly.” She was crying. Her voice was choked and Hans could feel a few tears through the cloth of his shirt. “We’ve talked about your relationship, but she didn’t know I was going to say anything.” Tiffany laughed again. “I didn’t even know I was going to say anything.”

Hans stepped back and smiled at her. “Well, thanks for not saying the really bad stuff Joan’s probably said about Caroline.”

“I do like Caroline. I wouldn’t repeat any of that.” Tiffany giggled through her tears. “I never knew Joan had such a dirty mouth.” Tiffany sniffed and wiped her eyes. When she returned her gaze to Hans it was uncertain. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything?”

“No. It’s alright. Thank you. It’s different coming from you.” Hans reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll think about what you said.” Tiffany still looked uncertain, but she smiled.

“That’s all I ask.” Tiffany glanced at her watch. “I’ve still got some time. Are you busy?” Hans’ eyes flicked to the stairs. Tiffany’s eyes followed his. “Oh, I see.” She smiled at him. “I really do like her.” Tiffany said again. “Sometimes she’s better than others.” Tiffany’s smile tightened almost indiscernibly. “If you can work it out. You should.” Tiffany picked up her bag. “I should go.” She walked to the door. “And Hans,” She looked back at him. “Whatever you decide,”

“You’ve got my back.” Hans nodded. Tiffany smiled one more time and walked out the door. Leaving Hans alone with his thoughts.



Caroline smiled at Hans as she walked down the stairs. Her hair was still wet and she was wearing some of the extra clothing that she kept at his house. “Feel better?” He asked.

“Much.” She answered. “But I am running late.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m going to go ahead. Will you text me later?”

“Sure.” Hans nodded. Caroline let her hand linger on his shoulder as she walked to the door. She began singing as soon as it closed behind her. Hans winced, but a fond smile unfurled on his lips just the same. Caroline couldn’t carry a tune to save her life. It was odd that that was one of the things he found endearing about her. Hans latched on to it. Tiffany’s question had left him somewhat muddled and it was good to be reminded that there were things that made Hans care besides being a prince.

He listened to Caroline’s off pitch singing as she walked down the driveway. Suddenly he was out of his chair and out the door. Caroline’s voice had been cut off by her scream. Hans raced to the street. He saw Myriah pulling an unconscious Caroline into a black car with dark windows. She looked up, and they made eye contact. She smiled. Then wrenched Caroline the rest of the way into the back seat and slammed the door. The car sped a way. Hans chased after it, but there was no way for him to catch up.

Hans slowed, breathing heavily. Myriah kidnapped Caroline… Hans smiled. He couldn’t help himself. Myriah was back.

The trouble with befriending an omnipotent being, Fin reflected as he neared his third or fourth millennia, was that they weren’t really aware of what they were doing sometimes. He wasn’t omnipotent, but he knew better than most that having even a good relationship with such beings presented certain difficulties. Take his situation: he’d never wanted to be immortal. His condition was by no means intentional. It had taken Fin several centuries to accept that conclusion. If it had been on purpose, Fin could be furious as he watched friends be born, live, and die; only to have the cycle repeat. As nice as it would be to be angry, it was much better to accept that mistakes happen and, apparently, not even the omnipotent were perfect.

Fin had been a simple crewmember on an unimportant merchant ship, the Trade Winds. He was there out of a love for travel more than anything else. The Trade Winds took him off world, to planets he never could have dreamed of. The ship encountered some difficulties with a mischievous entity. That was actually severely downplaying the harrowing experience. The being that he came to know as Eleven had very little empathy for them back then. The ship survived because the crew had risen enough beyond Eleven’s expectations for her (or maybe him) to deem them “not boring”. She let them go for the next time she was bored.

Eleven reappeared several times after that. It was a strange evolution to witness; Eleven actually came to care about them. Not that she said that. It was her actions that spoke volumes. The most obvious was the time that she had been angry, truly furious. The ship was shielded from her rage. It was the only thing that was for farther than their sensors could reach. They managed to catch a trace of her energy signature and traveled through a dozen dead systems (ships floating around the planets like scum on water) before they found her. The captain convinced her to put things right. Fin hadn’t been part of that, but it did reveal what could happen if Eleven lost control of her emotions. It made Fin grateful that beings like Eleven were, for the most part, indifferent and bored.

Eleven wasn’t fully aware of what she did when she felt a strong emotion. It was a subconscious response, like a smile or a clenched fist. Most omnipotent individuals could be made aware of it, but they generally tried to just suppress it and ignore the consequence if their control slipped. Obviously, anger was a powerful emotion when expressed. Sadness was probably one of those bad ones that omnipotent beings should have a firm handle on too… No one talked about the need to control joy though.

Once, Fin made Eleven laugh. It had startled her far more than him. Fin didn’t know if she’d ever laughed before. If she had, it was many years before his species even evolved. Eleven smiled at him fondly afterward and said, in a moment of true happiness, “Never change, Fin.” It was a decade before he realized he wasn’t aging or scarring. It was centuries before he accepted he never would.

All because an omnipotent being had been happy and didn’t realize what she’d done.