You gaze intently at Jane, who is the individual that has just acquired the wand. She appears to be grappling with the weight of the exquisite wand, her knuckles turning white as she desperately holds onto it. Her voice is tremulous with determination as she declares, "If you refuse to grant me beauty, then I shall find the means to achieve it on my own!"

As you lock eyes with Mal and the others across the taut rope that separates you, you notice them begin to approach cautiously. Jane, sensing their advancement, retreats a few steps away from them, her eyes darting nervously between you and the newcomers. You take deliberate strides towards her, your towering figure casting a shadow that seems to loom over her small frame. Extending your hand, you speak in a calm yet firm tone, "Jane, please, give me the staff."

Her eyes widen and she stammers, "I...I..." Clearly overwhelmed, she casts a frantic glance around the room, searching for an escape or perhaps a sign of what to do next. Tears glisten in her eyes as she whispers, "This is not the method to persuade your mother to act, and you are already imbued with enough beauty, Jane."

Moving closer to her, you offer a gentle reassurance, "Jane, you need not believe you are lacking in any way. You possess an inner beauty that cannot be matched by any sorcery or charm.

" Please, trust me, this is not the path you wish to tread down."

Her body quivers in response to your words, and she seems to be on the brink of relinquishing the wand. Meanwhile, Etyer's canine companion steps forward, its mouth opening to snatch the wand away from her trembling grasp. As the wand is claimed by the animal, a surge of energy pulses through the room, resonating with the staff's power. A dazzling bolt of lightning slices through the air, emanating from the tip of the wand and searing through one of the cathedral's magnificent stained glass windows. The sound of shattering glass fills the air as the lightning bolt obliterates the pane, sending shards cascading to the floor below. The magic barrier surrounding the Isle of the Lost, once thought to be impervious, flickers and falters before the sheer might of the discharged power.

"Erendil!" Mal's shout echoes through the chamber as he rushes to your side, attempting to seize the wand from the dog's jaws. You manage to pull yourself up and stumble towards them, feeling the electricity of the magic surging through your veins like a wild current. Ben quickly moves to intercept Mal, his voice urgent. "Mal, give me the wand," he insists.

Mal, however, is adamant, her grip on the staff unyielding. "Stand back!" she commands Ben, brandishing the wand with a fiery resolve. She seems to have taken charge of the situation, her eyes flashing with a newfound intensity.

Audrey, having emerged from the chaos, takes this moment to chide Ben with a smug expression. "I told you so!" she exclaims, watching as the events unfold before her.Ignoring Audrey's remark, Ben continues his plea, "Mal, it's okay—please, let me have the wand. It's not safe for you to handle it like this!"

But Mal is unwavering, her eyes narrowed and her stance protective as she stands before you. "Ben, I said stand back!" she repeats more forcefully, the wand's power seeming to bolster her confidence.

As Ben hesitates, considering his next move, you struggle to regain your footing, drawing in deep, ragged breaths. The magic within the wand has taken its toll on you, and your body feels as though it's been struck by the very lightning that now crackles around the room. Mal's attention remains focused on you, a fierce determination etched upon her features. "Don't touch him," she warns Ben, her voice laced with a hint of anger. "He's coming with us, whether he likes it or not!"

Her words hang in the air, a stark declaration of her intentions. The tension between the group is palpable, each member caught in the web of fate that the wand has spun around them. The fate of the Isle of the Lost and the balance of power now rests heavily on the decisions made within these hallowed halls.

As your head gently tilts backward, your gaze shifts to meet the collective eyes of your closest companions, the young men who were destined to stand by your side as you claimed the throne. With a profound sense of resignation, you push yourself up from the ground, drawing their astonished stares. The words that escape your lips resonate through the sudden silence, as if echoing through the annals of an unwritten destiny. "She's right," the person before you, whom you had considered an ally, admits in a tone that is a poignant mix of regret and acceptance. The atmosphere is thick with the shock of this revelation, and the circle of friends around you gasps in unison, their eyes widening in a blend of disbelief and confusion.

Ben, your dearest friend, whose heart is visibly heavy with emotion, regards you with a melancholic expression that mirrors the gravity of the situation. "Erendil," he says, his voice quivering with a mix of pain and incredulity, "What do you mean by that?" His question hangs in the air, a silent plea for an explanation that might somehow alter the path you've chosen.

You approach him with a measured gait, each step filled with the weight of your decision.

 Reaching out, you take his hand firmly in yours, feeling the warmth of his skin and the pulse of his lifeblood beneath your fingertips. This physical connection serves as a stark reminder of the bond you've shared and the future that could have been. "Ben," you begin, your voice laced with a solemnity that speaks volumes of the depth of your feelings, "I am fully aware of the promise we made to each other, to rule side by side and conquer the realms as equals. But the path of fate has twisted in ways none of us could have foreseen."

Your eyes, filled with the sorrow of a thousand unspoken goodbyes, lock onto his. "The children of the villain," you continue, "they are not just any children. They are a part of me, a responsibility that I cannot, and will not, shirk. They are as much mine as any crown or title could ever be."

With a gentle touch that belies the strength of your resolve, you stroke Ben's cheek, feeling the roughness of his beard against your palm. The intimacy of the gesture underscores the depth of your friendship and the bittersweet nature of your parting. "In another realm," you murmur, your smile tinged with the sadness of lost possibilities, "perhaps our destinies would have intertwined as we had always dreamed. But in this world, my place is with them."

The words hang in the air, a soft whisper that seems to carry the weight of the world. The group surrounding you remains frozen, their breaths held as if afraid to disturb the delicate balance of emotions that now define the space between you. You linger for a moment, allowing Ben to absorb the gravity of your confession. Then, with a final squeeze of his hand, you release him, symbolically letting go of the dreams you once shared. "I am their protector," you declare, your voice steady despite the ache in your heart, "and I must see this through."

The sadness in Ben's eyes is palpable, a testament to the love and loyalty that has united you both. Yet, there is also a flicker of understanding, a spark that acknowledges the unyielding force of duty and the ties that bind you to these orphaned souls. He nods, the barest of movements, but one that speaks volumes of his acceptance.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the trials ahead. The fate of the villain's children is now yours to bear, and you are resolved to do so with all the courage and compassion that lies within you. As you turn to face the daunting horizon, you carry with you the warmth of Ben's touch and the silent support of your friends, who, though they may not fully comprehend your choice, stand as a testament to the unbreakable bonds that have been forged through shared trials and tribulations.

The journey ahead is fraught with peril and uncertainty, but as you gaze into the distance, you know that you are not alone. The whispers of destiny may have changed, but the essence of who you are remains steadfast. The king you were meant to be is now the guardian of those who have

Following the intense conversation, you feel the weight of the situation and decide to address the fairy godmother and the former queen of Auradon with genuine remorse, bowing your head as you express, "Your Highnesses, I sincerely and profoundly apologize for any distress or confusion my actions may have caused." The words flow from your heart, and you can see the fairy godmother's expression soften ever so slightly, understanding the depth of your regret. The former queen nods, her gaze filled with a mix of disappointment and compassion.

Gathering your composure, you then look back up at the fairy godmother and continue, "Perhaps in the future, there will be an opportunity for us to reconcile and for me to prove my loyalty to Auradon once more." Your voice is gentle, yet firm, leaving no doubt that you are earnest in your intent to make amends. The fairy godmother regards you thoughtfully, her eyes reflecting a hint of hope amidst the concern.

With the tension momentarily lifted, you shift your focus to Mal and her companions, who are watching you with a variety of emotions playing across their faces. They are a tableau of feelings: Mal's curiosity, Evie's empathy, Jay's wariness, and Carlos's anticipation. The white-haired boy, whose friendship you have come to cherish, steps forward tentatively and inquires, "Does this mean you are now choosing to stand by our side? That you won't be displeased if we carry on with our lives in this realm?"

Your smile is warm and reassuring as you reply to Carlos, "My dear friend, there is no need for you to worry. I hold no resentment towards your decision to remain here. In fact, I am relieved to see that you have found happiness and belonging in Auradon."

As the words leave your lips, you notice your mother standing at the edge of the grand hall, her eyes locked onto yours. She returns your smile with one of her own, filled with love and understanding. Your father, the mighty King of the Isle of the Lost, stands beside her, his robust form a pillar of strength. He emits a deep, resonating rumble that seems to permeate the very air around you and echo through the cathedral's hallowed halls, a silent declaration of his endorsement that causes the stones beneath your feet to quiver.

In that instant, the unspoken bond between you and your parents is palpable. Their support is unwavering, and you are filled with a sense of peace and belonging that is unshakeable. It is clear that no matter the realm or the path you walk, they will stand by you, offering guidance and love. The realization of their unconditional backing serves as a beacon of reassurance, reinforcing your resolve to navigate the complexities of your dual heritage and find your place in this ever-evolving world.