It was almost noon in the city of London. At Whitehall Palace King Charles II entered his large and spacious throne room. Which was lit up by the natural sunlight shining through a large window above his throne. The sound of his footsteps echoed throughout the room as he approached the throne.

As he sat down on his throne which had two plush scarlet cushions on it he adjusted the cuffs on his jet black coat. Carefully he pulled the sleeves of his coat down a bit more. Then he adjusted the end of the ruffled sleeves of his white shirt.

As he started to adjust the small white lace collar. He noticed Francis Smith who was wearing a dark blue waistcoat, brown coat, black breeches, and black shoes with white stockings enter the room. Francis Smith stopped in front of the King and politely bowed.

Charles calmly rested his hands on the wooden armrests of his throne feeling the hardness and the smoothness of the wood.

The King's eyes changed from their natural dark brown to a bright calming turquoise. Which reflected the peace that he was feeling on the inside.

"Anything to report about my kingdom Mr. Smith?" King Charles asked.

Francis silently stared at the King. Charles started sensing the nervousness and slight fear inside Francis slowly building up as if it was about to explode out of him like a cannonball being fired from a cannon.

"Is there a problem Mr Smith?" he asked.

"Dark magic users are saying that they sensed the return of Oliver Cromwell Your Majesty," he replied trying to appear calm.

"That's impossible Mr Smith. Oliver Cromwell is dead," he said with confidence.

King Charles thought to himself. "Although I feel like something needs to be done about that man's supporters. The ones who signed the death warrant of my father. They need to be made an example of. They will pay for going against the monarchy. A treasonous act."

The King's eyes suddenly changed to a deep crimson. This sparked more fear in Francis and he immediately backed up further away from the King.

"Mr. Smith I need you to do something for me," he said sternly.

"What is it, Your Majesty?" he asked nervously.

"I need you to give orders to my guards to tell them to arrest the ones who signed my father's death warrant," he replied while tightly gripping his hands on the armrests of the throne. "I will also need you to get some executioners. I also need you to tell someone to make an example of the Puritan's former leader."

Francis Smith stood there silently frozen with shock. He gazed directly into the King's fiery eyes noticing the rage burning in them. Unsure of how to respond he stayed silent. A few minutes had passed.

"But Your Majesty you cannot possibly want someone to dig up a body in a holy place. It's sacred ground," he said his voice shaking slightly.

"We need to show that such acts against the monarchy will not be tolerated. Even if it means disturbing sacred ground. Now follow my commands, Mr. Smith," he replied sharply.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said attempting to recollect himself.

Francis bowed again before nervously exiting the room. His footsteps echoed as he walked down the long hallway. Charles closed his eyes trying to calm his fiery rage. Suddenly he heard a quiet flapping in front of him which caused him to open his eyes.

Looking down slightly he noticed Prince James in his raven form staring at him. The Prince then flew up to the large golden chandelier and carefully landed on it which caused it to sway slightly.

The King closed his eyes once again trying to quell the fury inside himself.

"Charles I don't think trying to hide your true emotions is good for you. Don't you remember what happened when father tried to do that?" James said with slight worry.

Charles ignored James' warning and continued trying to calm himself.

"Charles you can't bottle your emotions up!" he said anxiously. "Don't you know what would happen to your powers if you continue doing this!?"

"James I will be fi-"

"No, you will not be fine!" he replied anxiously. "

The King opened his eyes which were still crimson like a blazing fire. Then he stood up and gazed up at Prince James who was looking down at him. His brother's sky blue eyes anxiously gazed into the fire burning in his own.

James gracefully flew down the sound of his wings flapping echoed through the room. Upon landing, James transformed back into his human form.

Brushing down his light gray shirt with long ruffled sleeves and his black breeches James then gazed at his brother.

Upon noticing that his brother's eyes had now changed to maroon. James cautiously approached his brother.

Charles loosened his grip on the wooden armrests and laid his hands flat onto the armrests. Allowing his tensed muscles to slowly relax.

The King took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Feeling his racing heartbeat slow down.

"I apologize for snapping at you Charles," he said while putting his hands behind his back and gazing down at the floor.

"No I apologize for not listening to you," he replied with a tinge of guilt in his voice. "I forgot what could happen to me if I were to lose control. These powers are a curse I wish that I-"

"Charles don't say that."

"-never had these powers in the first place."

Charles' eyes changed to a deep blue and he sighed. He felt tears welling up in his eyes but he held them back allowing him to keep his regal demeanor. Although his eyes did betray his true feelings.

On the inside Charles felt like he was be swallowed by vast ocean of despair. He knew that his father wouldn't want him to see his powers as a curse.

James looked up and noticed that Charles' eyes were blue and he was almost on the brink of tears.

The Prince went to approach Charles. But Charles signaled him to stop. Wiping away the tears that had formed in his eyes the King rose from his throne.

The King exited the throne room his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

The Prince went to follow his brother. But he hesitated and knew that his brother needed time to himself.

Prince James thought to himself with worry. "My poor brother your powers aren't a curse. I know that you sometimes don't like revealing your true feelings. But in a way it's a blessing that we know how your feeling."

Prince James then walked off down the opposite hallway feeling increasingly worried about his brother.

***

A soft knock could be heard outside Oliver's room. Oliver who was still peacefully sleeping ignored the noise. There was a brief pause before there was a louder knock on the door.

Oliver slowly opened his eyes allowing them to adjust to the bright afternoon sunlight shining through the window.

"Who's there?" Oliver asked feeling slightly groggy.

"It's me father," Richard replied. "May I come in?"

"Yes come in Richard," he said calmly.

Richard opened the door which quietly creaked as he opened it. Upon closing the door behind himself Richard went to stand at the bottom of his fathers bed.

Oliver gazed at Richard and noticed the hint of concern in his sons eyes.

"Father are you alright?" he asked with concern.

"I'm fine my son," he replied. "Although I don't know how I'm going to get my powers back to their normal state."

"Surely there is a way to do that," he said feeling even more concerned.

"There is but it's complicated," he replied with a sigh. "I'm going to have to look for something in my study that might help me."

Oliver got out of bed. But once he put his full weight on his sprained ankle pain rushed through him like a lightning bolt. This caused him to quietly whimper and stumble backwards onto the bed.

Richard wandered over to his father and sat down beside him. Then he gently placed his hand on his fathers shoulder.

"Should I get you whatever you need from your study?" he asked trying to hide his concern.

"No besides I can get it myself," he said while concealing his pain. "I can manage Richard. You just look after Henry make sure he is alright."

"Yes father," he replied as he got up off the bed.

Richard wandered over to the door and opened it. Then he exited the room his footsteps could be heard down the hall as he walked on the creaky floorboards.

Oliver slowly got up and started limping out of the room and down the hall to his study.

Upon reaching his study he opened the door which creaked as he pushed open.

Entering the study he noticed that the desk in front of the window had a few old documents on them. Oliver then glanced over at the large bookshelf in the corner which was completely full of books. Then he glanced over at the fireplace on the opposite end of the room which looked like it hadn't been used in a while.

Walking over to his desk he sat down and started looking at the old documents and letters.

Grabbing one of the letters the paper felt rough in his hand. The paper was also really discolored due to age.

Carefully reading the neat cursive handwriting on the paper. Oliver eventually stopped reading as he noticed a familiar name at the bottom of the letter.

Oliver thought to himself with curiosity. "Fairfax. I wonder what happened to him. He was loyal to me. Yet he hasn't come to find me. Has he not sensed my return?"

He sighed to himself and placed the letter back on his desk.

Oliver thought to himself. "I'll figure that out later. Possibly ask Richard about Fairfax. For now I need to get my powers back to their normal state. At least find a way to."

Oliver got up from his desk and wandered over to the bookshelf. Gazing at the many books he started pulling many of them off the shelf.

A few minutes had passed and he finally found what he had been looking for.

Grabbing the large black book with multiple mysterious purple symbols on the cover off the shelf. It felt hard and heavy as a rock in his hands. Carrying the book over to his desk he placed it down with a loud thud. The book being placed on the desk caused some of the small piles of papers to almost collapse.

Sitting down at his desk he opened the book up and began flicking through the multiple musty pages.

Eventually he reached a familiar chapter in the book which said "The Well of Darkness."

***

Oliver is standing outside watching a nearby storm. Forks of lightning light up the darkening sky in the distance and thunder loudly rumbles as if it was an earthquake.

He suddenly hears footsteps rustling in the grass behind him. Turning around he notices his father walking over to him. Oliver then goes back to watching the storm.

Oliver's father stands beside him and gently places his hand on Oliver's shoulder.

"You have always had an interest in these storms," Olivers father says with a smile.

"They remind me that nature is beautiful yet destructive," Oliver replies. "Much like my powers that I can barely control."

"Oliver my boy. You have only had your powers for a year. This power takes time to control," he says calmly.

Oliver glances over at his father with curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

"Is it possible for us to lose our powers?" he asks.

"No but using too much magic can take it's toll. Some people even suppress their powers as they are afraid of using them," he replies.

"Is there a way for my powers to become stronger?" he asks.

Oliver's father looks at Oliver with concern in his eyes. He then looks back at the storm and both of them are quiet for a few minutes with only the occasional rumbling of the thunder in the distance.

"There is two ways. One is to just to practice and allow them to get stronger that way," he says.

"What's the other way?" he asks with curiosity.

"The other way is to journey to The Well of Darkness and gain more power there," he replies with concern. "Although that place is dangerous and should only be used as a last resort."

Oliver thinks to himself with curiosity. "Why would it be so dangerous there? Is there something there that guards it? How would someone even get there?"

"Do you know why it's dangerous to go there?" he asks.

"I've only heard rumors about it being dangerous to go there. But not many people know what is there exactly," he replies. "But all I know is whatever is there it can kill whoever goes there."

"How does someone get there?" he asks.

"Oliver you know that I won't allow you to-"

"I don't want to be seen as someone who will never control their powers."

Oliver's eyes start faintly glowing a deep purple and Olivers father sighs and puts his hand in his pocket. Then he pulls out a black compass with purple symbols on it. He hands it to Oliver who looks at it.

The compass feels heavy and smooth in Olivers hand. Oliver gently opens it and notices the needle has a faint purple glow to it. It's also pointing north east. Closing the compass he puts it in his pocket and looks at his father.

"If you ever wish on going there following the direction of the compass," he warns. "But please only go there if you really need to. Don't use it in a greedy way. Greed is not good Oliver."

***

Oliver suddenly heard footsteps creaking on the floorboards behind him.

"Who is it?" Oliver asked.

"It's me father," Henry replied quietly. "I just wanted to come apologize for you know trying to kill you."

"No, no I should be apologizing. I was the one who angered you," he said feeling slightly awkward.

Henry entered the room and walked over to his fathers desk. Gently placing his hand on his fathers shoulder he studied the book. But before he could read further Oliver closed the book and gazed at Henry with awkwardness and a small amount of sadness in his eyes.

Oliver grabbed the book and went to get up. He whimpered as he forced himself to stand up straight. Then started to limp over to the bookshelf. Henry stood there feeling concerned and slightly guilty for what he did.

Tears began to stream down Henrys face and he started to quietly sob. Upon hearing Henrys faint sobs Oliver turned around and glanced over at Henry with concern.

Placing the book back on the shelf Oliver wandered over to Henry. Then he embraced his son and allowed him to cry on him.

"I hurt you father," he said through sobs. "I also could have killed you."

"It's alright my boy," he replied while gently rubbing Henrys back. "I'll be alright just need to make a splint for this ankle."

Oliver let go of Henry who wiped his tears away and took a deep breath. Henry put his hands behind his back and started awkwardly fidgeting with them. Looking down at the floor Henry wanted to leave the room. But he had something to tell his father.

"Father do you forgive me for what I did?" he asked feeling slightly anxious.

"Of course I forgive you Henry," he replied while placing his hand on Henrys shoulder. "The truth is I understand how you feel. Because at one point I wasn't able to control my own powers."

Henry glanced up at his father with a look of curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

"What were you reading father?" he asked.

"Just a book about dark magic," he explained. "Nothing that you need to worry about."

"But why didn't you allow me to see what you were reading?" he questioned. "Is something going on father?"

"My powers aren't working the way they normally would," he replied. "So I was searching for a way that I could possibly fix them."

Oliver thought to himself feeling slightly nervous. "I can't allow Henry or Richard know where I'm going. It probably won't be safe for them at all."

Henry continued gazing at his father for a while as he didn't know what to say.

The room was almost completely silent. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of the two men calmly breathing.

Upon realizing that he won't get anymore information from his father Henry exited the room. Shutting the door behind him.

Oliver walked over to his desk and sat down at it and opened the top left draw.

Upon opening the draw he noticed the compass. Grabbing the compass he opened it up and noticed something bizarre about it.

The needle was glowing brighter and it was pointing in a different direction.

Oliver thought to himself out of slight confusion. "Why is it glowing like that? I also vaguely remember this thing pointing north east. Now it's pointing south. But why?"

***

A couple of hours have now passed and King Charles II was sitting on his throne. Gazing down the long entry hall of the throne room. His eyes glowing a serene turquoise.

Rapid footsteps suddenly echoed down the hallway. Francis Smith promptly entered the room with a look of fear in his eyes.

Francis nervously approached the King and slowly bowed at him.

The King sensed the fear swirling inside Francis Smith.

"Mr Smith is something wrong?" he asked.

"The men who were going to dig up the tomb of the former Lord Protector–"

"Yes did they make an example of him?"

Francis took a deep breath trying to calm his nerves.

"They said that they didn't find a body. All they found was blood covering this plaque and a dagger," he said feeling anxious.

"How did they not find a body? Was there not any remains of him?" he asked trying to stay calm.

"Nothing was in the tomb Your Majesty. It was empty," he replied.

"It's true. There was nothing in the tomb Your Majesty," a voice across the room said.

The King gazed over to his right and saw a familiar man with long, curly dark brown hair, brown eyes a neatly trimmed mustache and goatee standing in the hallway. The man was wearing a plain black waistcoat, black breeches and black boots.

The King gestured for the man to come closer and the man gladly obeyed the King.

The man politely bowed. The King suddenly noticed a small cut on the mans left cheek and he gazed at the man with concern.

"Lord Fairfax. What happened?" he asked with concern.

"Supporters of the former Lord Protector trying to kill me," he replied. "They see me as a traitor. All of them. They want me dead Your Majesty."

"I see. Now is it true that there was nothing in the tomb?" he asked.

"Yes I witnessed the men digging up the tomb," he replied. "I came here to tell you. But it seems Mr Smith here beat me to it."

The King sighed as frustration started to boil inside him causing his eyes to change and glow a deep maroon.

"Did you notice anything else Fairfax?" he asked trying to hide his frustration.

"As someone who still has some dark magic. Albeit surpressed I sensed an incredible amount of dark magic in the blood on the plaque," he replied. "I have a feeling that blood belongs to Richard Cromwell."

"Why would his blood be there?" he asked.

"Some dark magic spells require a sacrifice. Mainly the blood of the user." he replied. "But it must have been a very powerful spell. I sensed faint traces of dark magic in the air near the tomb."

The King tightly gripped the armrests of his throne and his eyes switched to a bright indigo. He felt his heart thumping rapidly in his chest as if it were going to explode.

Thomas Fairfax and Francis Smith noticed the Kings pale complexion. They both gazed at him with concern. Francis put his hand behind his back and started fidgeting with them. Fairfax patiently waited for the King to say something. 

The King took a deep breath trying to calm himself. After taking a few deep breaths the King got up and started pacing.

Charles thought to himself out of anxiety. "Why would dark magic be used near the tomb of Oliver Cromwell? Specifically by his son? He can't be back. It's not possible."

"Your Majesty I have sensed an incredibly powerful dark magic presence recently," he stated.

"Do you know who it is?" he asked his voice trembling slightly.

"No but it seems incredibly familiar," he replied. "It could possibly be Oliver Cromwell. But I'm unable to tell Your Majesty."

The King stopped pacing and he gazed at both of the men. Taking a deep breath he then sat back down on his throne.

"Gentlemen I need some time to think." he said.

"I shall go continue with something else Your Majesty." Francis replied as he politely bowed.

Francis Smith then walked down the hallway. Still feeling incredibly concerned about The King along with the whole situation involving Oliver Cromwell.

"Do you want me to do anything Your Majesty?" Fairfax asked.

"Could you perhaps find out if Oliver Cromwell has truly returned," he replied. "I just need answers Fairfax."

"I understand that Your Majesty," he said. "I shall go do that. I know a few dark magic users who support the monarchy."

Fairfax politely bowed and walked down the long hall of the throne room. Upon reaching the large wooden doors the two guards opened the door for Fairfax allowing him to exit the palace.

The guards then closed the doors the sound of the doors creaking shut filled the throne room.

The Kings eye flickered to a bright violet as he started to slowly calm down. The color started to return to his face and his pulse started to slow down to a normal pace.

Charles thought to himself feeling less anxious. "Oliver Cromwell can't be back. But I can't be too sure. I must wait until Fairfax gets some information. Then I shall know what to do if Oliver Cromwell has returned."