At long last, the story is complete! This took... gosh, almost an entire year?! Man, time flies when you're having fun, and I hope you all had fun during this ride! This is a story I've wanted to write for years, and I'm so happy that I managed to bring it to life. Thanks to everyone who helped see this fanfic dream come true!

Big thanks to my pal widdlez, who years ago encouraged and fed this idea!

To my amazing editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted, who not only helped make this story legible, but created new ways I could twist and turn these chapters to make my story better than I could have imagined on my own!

Thanks to all the fanartists who created such fantastic images of my story! Thanks to all the great people leaving comments on my work, please know that each one encouraged me to keep moving forward!

And lastly, thank YOU, every single one of you, for reading this! Stories are made to be shared, and if I made even one person happy with this, then I'm pleased as punch! And please take Scheherazade's words to heart - if you hear a story inside you, share it! They deserve to be heard! Our world is full of tough times, and we need stories to shine a way through the darkness. Keep writing, keep drawing, and like old Walt used to say, Keep Moving Forward!

One minute earlier, Panchito asked, "You guys hear something?" though he hated to interrupt the group study session. Mickey's arm was still mighty sore, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from planning a way out and saving Minnie. Scheherazade was helping draw blueprints of the palace on the stone floor with Jose's umbrella, and Goofy was trying to pick out points where they could ambush their enemies. Daisy was trying to think of wishes the Phantom Prince could use, so Donald could come up with ways to counter them.

Mickey was about to reply that no, he hadn't heard anything, when he felt a hard pull on his scar. He winced, rubbing it with his fingers. Al noticed the gesture. "They must be using her wishes. Are you all right, son?"

"No, no, it's not like that." Mickey wasn't sure what this was. It did hurt, but it wasn't the exhausting waves of agony he was used to. "I dunno, it's like... my heart hurts." After a bit, he then glanced up. "Wait, now I do hear something." At first, he thought it sounded like a low-pitched hum. One by one, the rest of the prisoners began to hear it, and lifted their heads, curious. Horace grabbed the magic carpet and wore it over his head like a makeshift shield, because he found that in his long troublesome life, low-pitched hums never led to anything remotely pleasant.

The hum became greater and louder, and then the entire cell began to rattle and shake, the force becoming so great that the bars of their cells began to pop off. This would have been a cause for celebration, except they would soon find they didn't need to exit that way – in the next second, the entire ceiling was ripped off by an almighty hurricane of colors, throwing the debris into the distance. Now they could all hear the thunderous destruction that had demolished the palace, and was now slamming into the earthy walls above and below, determined to reach the surface and rain death there as well.

"I'm gunna go out on a limb here," Clarabelle offered as she joined the slack-jawed staring of her crew, "that the Phantom Prince didn't wish for this."

"Everybody out!" Mickey commanded, not wanting to waste the opportunity, as bizarre as it was. They climbed on each other's shoulders to reach ground level, where they saw annihilation taking on a hundred different forms. Waves of boiling hot ocean water crashed into the decaying buildings, fire-breathing dragons clawed at one another for dominance over nothing, plants that had scales like snakes slithered in the dirt and spat out acidic venom – everywhere they turned, a new obstacle was breathed into life, each as terrifying and nonsensical as the last. In the very middle of the chaos was a swirling tornado, this one glowing a shocking pink, and as Mickey looked at it, what was actually in the middle of the winds became clearer.

When Minnie had been transferred to Mickey, and then to the Phantom, a light had taken on a female form with a commanding voice – but now that form was screaming without a voice at all, and faintly Mickey wondered if that had been what Minnie looked like once upon a time. "What did they do to her?!" he shouted, hand clutched to his chest in horror.

"Her?" Goofy repeated, before making the obvious connection. "You're sayin' Minnie's doin' all this? But how? Why?"

"Questions later," Donald quacked as a leviathan made out of stone lurched over them, not even seeing the ants he was about to squish, "survival now!"

With everyone in universal agreement on that, they raced forward, trying to head towards the pink tornado, struggling to dodge every deadly hurdle that came their way. If Mickey could just get his hands on the lamp – but how was he to find it in all this insanity? Where were Pete and the Phantom Prince? The palace itself was gone, the only surviving remnants a few golden pillars that were being held together by a spider as big as a shark. A nearby building met its final moments, crumbling into dust, but within that dust Mickey spotted a familiar glitter. "The lamp!"

He picked up speed, jumping over a few miniature volcanoes, but he wasn't the only one on the hunt. A heartless beast, this one the shape of a 2-ton-macaw, slammed into Mickey's chest, sending him flying backwards. Al caught his son, and as he set him back down, spotted and shouted, "The Phantom Prince!" The title rang in Mickey's ears like brass bells to his brain, and seeing his greatest enemy engulfed his heart in fire.

The villain was staggering near the lamp, clutching the remains of his chest – in the continuous blasts of carnage, he, Pete, and the lamp had gotten separated. "I've come this far," he snarled, taking labored breaths with every step, "And I won't let anyone stop me now! That fool of a servant set me back... I'm so close to having the kingdom I deserved!" He reached for the lamp, but it was now so scorching hot that it fell through his dissolving hands, and he screamed in pain as he thought he could no longer feel. "No! NO! I need more time! I JUST NEED MORE TIME!"

"What did you to Minnie?!" Mickey demanded, his heart beating hard in anger. The Phantom Prince had already enslaved Minnie to a life of despair, yet somehow he found a way to make it even worse. "All you've ever done is take from her! All you've ever done is hurt her!" Rage seeped through his veins, clenching his muscles, and with every passing second, his now infamous temper became darker. "You don't deserve anything but to be forgotten, you pathetic shade of a prince! I'M NOT GOING TO LET YOU HURT HER EVER AGAIN!" Even if he didn't have a sword, he'd find a way to make this wretched man pay for all his sins, for all he did to Mickey's parents, for all he did to his own family, for all the ruination he had brought upon the world. Mickey didn't want the Phantom to just die, but to suffer through it, to make him regret ever being born!

The Phantom Prince held out his arm, trying to force enough power back to restore his missing limbs. "Impudent fool... I still have enough magic to take you all out! And my wishes are still in-tact, none of you can harm me!" With a clear struggle, black ooze dribbled from his wrist, summoning more heartless beasts to fight the crew, even as doing so whittled away more of his life force. "My glory will be remembered forever!"

Without a moment to spare, the crew was swept into battle, ready to bash and smash their way through the monsters as they had now done many times before. But Mickey wasn't focused on them – his eyes stayed on the Prince. Mickey was about to take a step forward and give in to his blood-rage, but Donald's hand grabbed his shoulder firmly. "You need to go to Minnie," he said as seriousness as he had ever been in his damaged life. "Leave him to us. We might not know what's going on... but I know that you are the only one that can help her."

Mickey almost balked – this was his chance to take on his greatest enemy, the man who had started and ruined everything, the one he had been plotting revenge against since he first learned of the man's existence. He was owed vengeance. He was owed blood! The climactic battle between the hero and the villain of this epic tale! But when he looked back, and could see the bright shadow of Minnie wailing in a grief no one could fathom... he struggled, the need for vengeance and the need to save his lady love at war in his soul. It physically hurt to choose between them, multiple voices screaming in his head for the "right" choice. His eyes flew back and forth between the danger in front of him, and the suffering far away. The voices became quieter the more he stared at the distance, and the need for payback began to sound so... pointless in comparison.

This wasn't one of his mother's stories with a set structure of right and wrong. Minnie was in pain, and she needed help. It didn't matter who stopped the Phantom Prince, so long as he was stopped.

His head began to clear, and he clutched Donald's hand, squeezing it in gratitude. "I trust you."

Donald allowed himself a brief smile. "Get ready." He then pulled back, the beasts already starting to rampage forward, and everyone held out their respective weapons, Donald crossing his arms and willing electricity through his fingers. He couldn't use his powers against the Phantom Prince, per his wicked wishes, but there was more than one use for his abilities. It had taken the hand of his first friend to learn this, and here and now, he was going to repay the boy who had saved him. "GO!"

With that, he summoned the loudest thunder and the brightest lightning his body could produce, converging it in one spot, temporarily blinding and deafening the surprised Phantom, letting it crack from him to the sky, breaking a hole in the earthly crust above. It was the perfect distraction, allowing Mickey to run from the fight. It was up to him to save Minnie, him and him alone, him and Goofy - "Captain?!"

Goofy was keeping up the pace right alongside Mickey, as were his parents, pup, and carpet. "True love is sweet and all that," he admitted, "But it never hurts to have a few helping hands!"

"If you think we're going to let you out of our sight ever again," Al agreed, "you've got another thing coming! We're a family again, we're doing this together!"

"But..." Mickey chanced a glance behind him, worried for his friends and the battle he had left behind, with bits and pieces of him still urging him to return and finish what had been started, "hero mode" still alive and well.

"If you have faith in them," Scheherazade insisted, pushing Mickey forward, "Then have faith in all of us. None of us would have gotten this far because of one person. Believe in them, and believe in what we must do!"

Heroes in Scheherazade's stories always seemed to know what to do right away, without wavering or second-guessing. Faith wasn't something he could hold in his hand and grasp, it was something he just had to feel. He swallowed hard, steeling his nerve, and willed his legs to run faster, his eyes not to go back. "Then, please – help me set things right! Let's end Minnie's nightmare together!"

Donald planted his feet on the ground, continuing to let lightning crackle all around him, forcing it to stay as the beasts came at him, the monsters frying and dying as they ran into the gigantic bolts.

Horace, Clarabelle, Panchito, Jose and Daisy jumped into the fray, each one ready and willing to end this themselves with everything they had, come hell or high water – both of which Minnie was incidentally providing. Donald stayed where he was, resolute in his will to make sure not a single creature would go after Mickey. He would be the last stand, the final barrier, for once grateful for the cursed power that ran in his blood.

"You want to be remembered, your highness? Then get ready for a fight you won't ever forget!"

Minnie was time-traveling in her memories, back and forth, then and now, to when her horror and grief first destroyed the land all around her.

What have I done?

Had she changed? Had any of it mattered? She was a weapon. A tool made to hurt others.

I never meant for any of this.

Back then, she thought she could fix things, she thought she could make sure she wouldn't harm another person. Was she wrong? Had it all been for naught?

There must be a way... there must be some way to prevent this from happening again.

I don't know if it'll work. But I have to try.

If anyone finds these, if anyone can find me, please... end his reign, and end this nightmare.

In order to make things right, she sacrificed the last thoughts she had of her home, of her life, of anyone who could've loved her even if it wasn't real. The kingdom was dead, but its prince lived, and one day he would rise again, one day she'd be used to harm others again. If she could lead people back to this place – if she could give them a way to find the kingdom – if she could find a way to be free of her curse – her powers had heard her plea, and a spell was made, a map was born.

This is all I can do, and I pray it will be enough. With the last of my memories, I give you form, I give you to the wind, so that someday this chapter will be closed. Find the pieces, find me, and give us peace.

Please... someone, anyone out there... help me...

The closer Mickey, his blood family and makeshift family got to Minnie, the harder it became to travel. It was if she was pushing away anyone who dared to get close, and the group was forced to reroute and try again several times, due to giant hungry locusts, hail made out of fireballs, earthquakes and snowstorms and many a mythological creature now warped to their most awful form. Al and Scheherazade continued to try and find a new, safer path for them attempt, and at last it seemed they had found one, when a bat that was the size of a house screeched so loudly they dropped to their knees, clutching their ears. Goofy managed to wiggle out his pistol to try and shoot it down, and for the moment they decided the carpet was the best way to get around, if only to avoid this newest onslaught. Everyone climbed on board, but mere moments after taking to the air, a harsh sandstorm flew into their faces, and Mickey winced, opening his eyes to try and see where they could go.

That's when he saw Pete.

Pete had gotten a big brunt of the disaster, his clothes both seared and sopping wet, burns across his belly and his fingers aching from frostbite. It had been a real fight to free himself from the earlier ice picks, and he wound up using a chunk of what was a palace wall as a place to hide. He was scared out of his mind, not knowing what to do, afraid to even take a step out from behind the jagged wall, lest something out of his worst nightmares come finish him. Mickey's sword laid at his feet, abandoned and forgotten, the once proud trophy still stained with Mickey's blood.

But as terrified as Pete was, pride was still a dangerous and deadly thing in his damaged soul. He saw the family he once served, the family he betrayed, and the need to prove himself returned stronger and fiercer than before. It was all he had left anymore, even if it was useless. Knowing that he'd thrown away his life and his power for nothing – he couldn't live with it. He stumbled out from the wall, sore and miserable – if he could defeat them, maybe he could still rule Rao, still have a meaning to his life. "I... I got you now!" He exhaled, not even sure what he was saying, but barking spittle at them, hardly a threat. "That throne is mine! Mine, you hear me?" He grabbed a large chunk of debris in his hands, and chucked it at the carpet – it missed. Pathetically so. But it was enough to hold Mickey's attention, and so Pete did it again, yelling, "I make one girl cry, and everything goes to rot?! That's not fair! I deserve to be king!"

Mickey only heard one thing, one very important thing, and without thinking further, jumped off the carpet - ignoring the frantic yells of his comrades, not caring how hard hit the ground, because pain was nothing compared to rage.

All the fury that Mickey had managed to swallow for Minnie's sake now came back in a deafening roar. The Phantom Prince was the master behind the scheme, but Pete had proven to be a very willing puppet, and he remembered what the Phantom had said – that Pete had "set him back". I made one girl cry and everything goes to rot? He did this? HE DID THIS? THIS WAS HIS FAULT?! The entire world was lost to Mickey, as he sprinted ahead, not hearing the calls from his parents who struggled to steer the carpet back to land or the frantic yipping of his dog. All Mickey heard was his fault his fault his fault HIS FAULT HIS FAULT HIS FAULT -

Pete didn't see the little guy coming, so he wasn't prepared when Mickey launched his full body-weight into Pete's stomach, knocking him over, sword in hand. "YOU DID THIS!" Mickey yelled, grabbing a fistful of Pete's robes and slamming his head to the ground, over and over. "TELL ME WHAT YOU DID TO MINNIE!"

Pete's head swam – when had the tiny troublemaker become so powerful? Nothing made sense anymore, and when his vision was cleared, he didn't recognize Mickey right away. He'd never seen the typically peaceful prince with such hatred in his eyes, teeth clenched together and a murderous tremble in his body. A new terror filled Pete, and he couldn't feel his arms, couldn't think to simply sit up and push Mickey off. "H-Hey, I didn't mean... I didn't think... she just went nuts! I was just trying to get her to do what we wanted-"

"WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?" With each word, Mickey pushed his sword closer to Pete's throat, threatening to slice the entire thing open, and right now Pete absolutely believed Mickey would.

"I t-t-told her I killed you!" Pete stammered, eyes on the blade, trying to assure himself that Mickey might not do it, might not hurt him, he'd always been a weakling, always relied on other people, but maybe they said the same things about Sultan Al before he had his first bride. "I thought – maybe, if she thought you were dead, she'd just shut up and do what we said! But the Phantom Prince said her tears are full of crazy magic! If I'd have known she was going to explode, I would've kept my trap shut, I swear it!"

"You... swear?" Mickey repeated the word slowly, not moving the sword. "You can look me in the eyes... and swear?" His fingers dug into Pete's chest, as if he could dig in and claw out the man's heart. "You lied to everyone! You tricked my parents and took them away from me! You put everyone's lives in danger just because you wanted to feel good about yourself! And now you told her I WAS DEAD?!"

Pete didn't think he could talk his way out of this, so he didn't say another word. He could try to beg, he could try to plead, but those fiery eyes of venom weren't in the mood to listen. He had his regrets, and it'd be pointless to say them now.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Mickey raised the sword, ready to claim what was rightfully his to take. "YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!" Someone had to pay, someone had to suffer, someone had to burn, and Pete didn't deserve any mercy. He took advantage of his parents' kindness and traded them over for a worthless title. If it wasn't for him, none of this would have happened. Mickey would have happily celebrated his birthday with his mother and father, and everyone would have been safe. He raised the sword higher, and higher, and then -

and then -

He stopped.

He saw his reflection in the blade. He saw the golden scar on his neck, given to him by someone who also lost themselves to anger and revenge.

For the first time in his life, Mickey actually saw himself, and not the Son of Scheherazade. The anger was still there, the anger would always be there, but it didn't have all encompassing control anymore. He wouldn't let it destroy his life, as it nearly destroyed his father's, and as it had ruined the grieving servant. It hurt to deny it, hurt to suppress the need to strike down those who had wronged him, but he wasn't alone anymore. His life meant more than despair and lashing out at those who caused it. The storm that rampaged all around them was proof of this, and proof that he could be someone better – because someone needed him.

Mickey's grip on the blade weakened, and then he let it fall to the ground with a quiet clatter. Pete had shut his eyes, waiting for a demise that didn't come. He waited a few seconds more before opening one eye, and saw that Mickey had climbed off his stomach, and was staring at the raging rainbow in the sky. Pete stared, unable to understand why, to his view, Mickey had gone from bloodthirsty to calm in a minute. Without thinking, he asked, "What about me?" and regretted it at once.

Mickey looked at him briefly, and then away. "You're not worth the time." His focus lay elsewhere, and he thought of Minnie – of the rule saying she couldn't cry. How unfair it had been, and how unfair it was now, that the most basic emotion and need of all living things was denied to her for centuries. It was one of the earliest things babes knew how to do, and perhaps the best way to let out one's sadness and frustrations. She'd been forced to bottle everything up, lest she hurt those around her.

The carpet finally landed, now that the mind it was linked to had settled, and the crowd on top rushed out – only to see that Pete was alive, and nothing had darkened Mickey's future. After a moment, a warm touch laid on Mickey's shoulder - his father, proud of his son for staying his hand. "If only I could have been strong as you, when I was faced with that anger." His soft voice lamented. Scheherazade nodded knowingly, and Mickey turned away, not wanting to get lost in the past, as humble as the words made him. Goofy said nothing – he felt he didn't need to. Mickey didn't need praise or acknowledgment, as the captain had always felt that doing good was its own reward. But then again a little proud pet between Mickey's ears wouldn't do much harm.

"Every time we get closer, we get pushed back. How are we supposed to get to her?" Scheherazade lifted her head, knowing that they needed to return to the matter at hand. Pete sat in the dirt, feeling well-deserved humiliation.

The young prince tried to think, wishing that he had come up with an idea sooner – and in that instant, he realized he had, albeit unintentionally.

"I know I can get to her. If all of you help me form a path, I know just what to do!"

So long as the Phantom Prince could stand, he would continue to send out his creatures of darkness, as they were now his last line of defense. His wishes remained in place, and the crew staggered every time they tried to go against it. Panchito raised his pistol, attempting to fire at the Phantom, but his hands locked and seized up, pain shooting through his fingers – had Jose not tackled him down in time, a surly heartless bull would have flattened him. Horace and Clarabelle could easily knock down any monsters that came their way, but the moment they tried to launch themselves at the actual enemy, they fell flat on their faces, cursing all the while. Donald was still in his defensive position, not directly attacking but making sure his electrified field allowed for no escapees. Without her Eye, Daisy was the most defenseless of all, even if she had been taught a few tricks of the sword by her betters. In fact, it was she who pointed this out.

"We can't keep this up forever!" Daisy huffed, sweat pouring down her face, and she could see exhaustion on everyone's faces as well. "We can't just wait for Mickey to save the day!"

"If you've got a solution, I'd love to hear it!" Clarabelle growled, trying to get back on her feet, her legs feeling wobbly. "With those wishes, I can't kick that smug grin off his face! All of our special abilities are gone! What do we have left?"

"You have no choice but to die!" the Phantom Prince commanded, confident in his victory. "The tales of Sinbad and his merry crew end today! I learned all about you pathetic pirates... you all have your strengths, but without them, you're nothing but a ship of fools!"

"Aw, shaddap!" Donald quacked at him, but it was all the insult he could muster. Even the mere idea of throwing a lightning strike in the Phantom's direction caused him incredible pain, so there was nothing else he could do. But Mickey was counting on them! "You heard those stories, but you didn't listen to a thing! We're way more than a chapter title and a turn of the page! It's not our powers that make us great... it's how we use them! You only used your magic to hurt people! Daisy found the pieces of the map we needed, Clarabelle and Horace used their brains to defeat the Imp, and it's thanks to Jose and Panchito we managed to stay alive in the Cave of Wants! And what can you do?"

The Phantom Prince's assured grin began to dissolve into a grimace of contempt. "You dare call me weak, after seeing all that I have created?"

Daisy winced. "Honey, please don't taunt the dangerous villain."

"Taunting what?" Donald retorted, never taking his eyes off the Phantom. "You don't do anything at all! You make everyone else do your dirty work for you! Pete, the Glooms, Minnie, and these ugly monsters! You're just a coward! That's why no one remembers you, because wimps aren't worth remembering!" He was very aware that he was throwing stones at a hornet's nest, but if they were going to do down, he was going to go down defiantly!

"HOW DARE YOU?!" the Phantom Prince roared, his entire shadowy body shaking with rage. He abandoned the lamp behind him, and began to enter the battle itself, black smoke fuming from his wrists. "If it is your wish to die so horribly... THEN YOU DON'T NEED A GENIE TO GRANT IT!" Horace and Clarabelle made another failed attempt to touch him, Daisy yelled Donald's name, and Donald still refused to budge, even as the Phantom lurched forward, arm out, ready to blast unspeakable dark magic at Donald's face -

"Donald!" Jose scrambled to grab his umbrella, even knowing it wouldn't work, but when he had fallen with Panchito, all of their weapons had scattered on the ground – and he unknowingly snatched up Panchito's pistol and didn't realize what was in his hand until he pulled the trigger. The bullet screamed into the air, blasting a small hole into the Phantom's left shoulder.

The Phantom staggered – not out of any deep physical pain, but more out of shock that he had been struck. No blood or bone showed out of the wound, but it didn't close back up either. Even the heartless monsters stood in place, their mind linked with their creator. Jose blinked at the smoking pistol in his hand, confused. "Not that I'm ungrateful for this assistance, but friend Panchito, was it not wished for your pistols not to fire?"

Donald looked through the empty hole in his enemy – and then grinned. "No... what he said was, Panchito can't aim at the Phantom. He never said Jose can't do it!"

A moment of wonderful clarity hit every member of the crew, but the clarity wasn't so wonderful for the Phantom. He took a step backwards, and then forward again, trying to reclaim his dignity. "It doesn't matter! You can't possibly defeat me, I won't allow it! Using another's strength doesn't make you strong!"

"Funny, from a guy with endless henchmen," Horace said with a newfound self-assurance, standing tall. "My kicks might not be as strong as my wife's, but they should be good enough! And in this world, good enough does plenty! Now back away from the bird!" Without another word of warning, Horace took to the ground and swept the Phantom's legs out from under him with his own, which snapped the heartless monsters back to attention. The battle was back on - but it wasn't the same.

Panchito kicked up Jose's umbrella into his hands, and while he was inexperienced with the disguised flamethrower, he decided precise aim wasn't necessary. As the Phantom tried to get up, he was doused in intense flames, throwing off his concentration and not allowing him to give his commands to his monsters. Donald raised his hands, having enough strength for a few more bolts. "He wished I can't use my powers against him... but he didn't say I couldn't get rid of his nasty friends!" He clenched his hands, mentally commanding his lightning to take down each and every single heartless monster, striking them right in their ordained weak spot.

The Phantom's body began to dissolve further – he wasn't being given enough time to heal his wounds, and panic broke out on his face. They assumed it was panic, anyway – now even the details of his face were flickering in and out. "NO! No, I need more time! I'M SO CLOSE TO MY RULE! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!"

"Can and will!" Clarabelle countered, having studied her husband close enough to pull off a powerful sucker punch, sending the Phantom reeling and losing more of his body. "You think without our special skills we're not special? No wonder your daddy didn't want you to rule!"

With the Phantom down on the ground, Daisy flicked her pipe out of her hair, giving him a hard stab to his chest, doubting he had a heart but aiming toward one anyway. "You thought without my Eye I couldn't do anything? Your plan was doomed from the start!"

Every time the Phantom tried to get up, tried to cast a spell, tried to scream at their impudence, he was struck down by a foot, a fist, a pistol, flames and pipes, triumph and clamor. With each new attack, another part of him was lost, fading to ashes, fading to nothing, the sands of his time having finally run out. Horace eliminated his legs, Clarabelle his arms, Jose and Panchito took care of the chest, and Daisy tossed Panchito's second pistol into Donald's open hands.

"I WILL BE REMEMBERED!" the Phantom Prince howled, even as he was little more than a head and smoke, the last remnants of his sanity refusing to go down with any shreds of dignity. "I DESERVE TO BE REMEMBERED!"

Donald held the pistol down to the Phantom's forehead. "Phantom Prince... forget you!"

The bullet passed through smoke and ashes, and the Phantom Prince's consciousness was at last erased, leaving nothing behind, save for the golden cuffs bestowed upon him by the genie. Donald realized, oddly enough, that he didn't even know the name of the man whose life just ended. The only one who could've remembered was Minnie, but the man had erased his own daughter's memories to suit his own needs. The battle itself was amazing, yet in all due time, it would be forgotten too. After all, Goofy's crew would go on to many more adventures. This would be a footnote, if that.

As much as they all wanted to revel and cheer in their victory, the thunder far above them reminded everyone that the real danger had yet to be stopped. So long as Minnie kept crying, this would never end – as made evident by the sunlight now bursting through the earth, with every manner of vile creature starting to climb up into the open world. If she wasn't stopped, the whole planet would be subject to terrors of their worst imagining.

Daisy was the first to dare approach the lamp, but she first poked it with her pipe – which melted in seconds, and she yelped, frantically sidestepping. "Okaaay, so, this isn't exactly going to be easy. How do we get this back to Mickey without losing our fingers?"

Donald scratched his head – he was exhausted, having used up so much energy in the fight, but he still had enough to rub some brain cells together. His eyes fell upon the golden cuffs, and he raised an eyebrow, wondering why they were still there when the physical body was gone. Was it the Phantom Prince's design? Or...

"Well, I've never been known for my fashion sense before, why start now?"

"Everyone ready?"

To be fair, there wasn't much they could do to prepare themselves. It was this one chance or nothing at all. But Goofy smiled peacefully, fully assured that this would be fine. "Always, Mickey! We'll get the path as clear as possible for you, then you go head-on!"

Scheherazade turned Mickey around by the shoulders, worry clear. "Are you sure about this, my son? This is incredibly dangerous! She won't know you're there, she can still hurt you!"

Mickey squeezed his mother's hand. "I know it's risky... but I have to try. It's all we've got, and I made her a promise." He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Besides, you know stories better than anyone. Any goodbyes here, and that's as good as seeing me dead."

Al laughed, slapping a hard hand on Mickey's back. "My brilliant son, blessed with both heart and wit! I daresay the only thing he didn't get from me is my magnificent beard! But perhaps in due time..."

Goofy lightly cleared his throat to remind them that time was of the essence. Mickey chuckled sheepishly, before shaking his head and holding his hand out. "Carpet, to me!" Upon his command, the carpet flew to Mickey, but instead of taking a ride on it, he used both hands to cover himself with it as the world's softest shield. Before everything had come to ruin, Mickey had wished that the carpet wouldn't tear. As far as he knew, the wish still held. His family surrounded him, and Mickey spotted Pete staying in the same spot, dumbstruck still by all that had transpired. Even looking as ridiculous as this, Mickey still had more of a royal air about him than Pete ever would. Pete had thought domination and cruelty was the way to prove your superiority – but here, Mickey would prove belief and compassion would do a far better job.

The earth shook again, and with it came a new wave of troubles. Eagles with wings as long as a ship's sails with feathers sharper than knives began to descend upon them, followed by ice-cold winds and rats with scorpion tails, a dozen or so skittering towards them. "Let's go!" Mickey shouted, and the family ran forward, refusing to fall, refusing to fail.

An eagle swooped down, its talons ready to take, and Goofy met it with his blade, allowing Mickey to sprint ahead, bracing himself as the stinging winds blew at the carpet – but it wouldn't tear, not even a single strand. Pluto snarled at the oncoming vermin, grabbing one with his mouth and tossing it over his shoulder as Lady Scheherazade tore it in two with Mickey's sword. A second eagle tried to bite at Mickey's larger ears, when Al jumped upon its neck and held it tightly with his hands, trying to twist it away. Mickey thought he heard his father yell something encouraging, but couldn't be sure, and forced his feet ahead, even as he feared for his loved ones. But faith meant moving without looking, and he was so close! With each member of his odd family clearing the path for him, he couldn't let their efforts go to waste. As he strained past them one by one, he remembered his mother's words of belief, and didn't look back. He was on his own now.

It felt like endless time passed as he forced himself through wind, through heat and cold, through mud and water, through pain and fatigue. At times he felt it was like pressing against a wall, using his entire body to push ahead, and occasionally his ears would be nicked by a fanged toad, his foot tripping over a jagged rock, yet nothing would truly stop him. Not until he got to her, not until he kept his promise. The harder it became to walk, the closer he knew he was, stepping through the ruins of the palace, of what could have once been a loving home, through her past and into her future – and then he found her.

Minnie's eyes were open, but she wasn't seeing anything, her pupils blank as hot tears rolled endlessly down her face. Her body kept rapidly changing colors, matching the beautiful but devastating landscape around her, and every couple of seconds her body seemed to shift strangely, her fingers normal one second and then claw-like in the next, her petite mouth showing fangs but then perfectly still in that open scream – it was as if the magic in her body couldn't decide what to do with itself. She was breaking down, and no matter how loudly Mickey yelled, she couldn't hear him, and no matter how close he got, she couldn't see him. She was lost in her sadness, and there was no end in sight.

All right, now what? Mickey wasn't sure what to do, and a part of him had been hoping that just being near enough towards her would snap her out of this. Clearly that wouldn't be enough. If she couldn't hear him or see him, what would wake her out of her nightmare? He grunted, feeling another wave of pain through his body as her magic affected him as well. If this was one of his mother's famous tales, what would the conclusion be? What did brave heroes do when their damsels were in distress? What did noble princes do when their one true love was trapped under a spell?

… Oh.

It wasn't exactly the way he wanted to do for his first time, but this was hardly a time for beggars to be choosers. He was a little glad his parents weren't there to catch him doing it. Mickey straightened his back, and then advanced forward again. If he planned it right, he could do it in five seconds.

One, step forward.

Two, another step.

Three, throwing the carpet around Minnie.

Four, dragging her towards him.

Five... with both hands firmly on the carpet's fringes, he pulled Minnie in as tightly as he could, while his body still ached, closed his eyes tightly, and with a nervous breath, pressed his lips onto hers. If this didn't work, he was out of ideas, but at least he'd die with one of his own personal wishes fulfilled.

Mickey remembered the day he first saw her, the dazzling beauty on the stage, her smile sweet but her eyes full of defeat, of surrender, of a dying hope. Looking back, it was clear her beauty had won him over first, but there had always been a need to understand those sad eyes, to see warmth flicker in them again. Now it was clear that all this time she'd been waiting for him, and while he hadn't known it, he was waiting for her too. They couldn't begin to love themselves without finding that in one another, and only when they compared wounds could they begin to heal. Here she needed him most, and here he would stay, until his dying breath if need be, until she was set free of her past and of the darkness that followed her. Could she at least feel anymore?

The answer was yes. Yes she could. The natural color returned to her eyes instantly, wide and startled, and her mouth opened in shock, not that it stopped the kiss any. Mickey had to be sure about this, after all, so he mentally counted down sixty seconds, which was probably fifty-five seconds longer than necessary. True love's kiss could always use some extra help. Her mouth had felt warm, like she'd been sunbathing for far too long, but her body was cooling down, the tremors stopping, and while the magic all around them couldn't be stopped, she could. Her body felt so small pressed against his own, a tiny person capable of great things.

Mickey finally pulled back, eyes open, wearing a lopsided smile. "Hello."

Minnie – of normal colors and whose body was no longer shifting bizarrely – stared at him, stared at him in wonder and confusion and relief, before jumping straight into his arms to make sure this wasn't a dream. "MICKEY!" Her hands dug into him desperately, never wanting to let him go again, oblivious to what she had done just yet. "Oh, Mickey! Mickey, Mickey, Mickey! I – I thought – he said that he – Oh, Mickey!" She pressed her wet cheek to his, nuzzling him hard, wanting to hold all of him and see that every part of him was all right, saying his name over and over to reaffirm that he was here, he was alive, she was so happy she could cry -

She halted in horror, understanding what she unleashed. "No! Oh, no!" She rubbed her face raw, turning around as she witnessed the devastation she created. While she could no longer add to the chaos, she also couldn't stop what had already happened. "What have I done? I... I just... I thought you were dead, and I..."

Mickey pulled her back into the safe embrace of the carpet. "This is not your fault!" he said firmly, although he had mentally hoped that ceasing her tears would cure everything. "We'll find a way to stop this, we just need the lamp!"

"But I'm still under the Phantom Prince's control!" Minnie held out her wrists to show the proof, his ancient name on her cuffs – except his name wasn't there anymore. "Huh?" There was a different name there, and she was so stunned by what she saw that she couldn't say it, and pointed it out to Mickey.

It had Donald's name. Mickey balked, about to ask what was going on, when the earth rumbled again – he clutched Minnie to his chest, ready to protect her, but as it would turn out, he didn't need to. The whirlwind above him had stopped completely, and then started to turn backwards, going faster and faster, smaller and smaller, as it had first looked when it was created. Then it was gone completely, and soon all the other walking abominations were doing something similar – stopping, moving backwards, and then vanishing. The monsters, the weather, the earth, it all began to unwind and return to how things once were. The next change was just as surprising – the broken pieces of the palace began to rise up and stack on top of one another, returning the palace to its former glory. It all took place within a matter of minutes, and soon it was if the great self-made war had never happened, save for the large chunk of open sky above them all. On top of all that already happened, Mickey's body began to give, and Minnie was quick to help hold him up, her hands tight as she kept him standing

Mickey and Minnie stood in the palace hallway, now solid and whole once more, trying to wrap their heads around what just happened. Then came that familiar wave of pain and exhaustion through their bodies, as if –

Someone had just made a wish.

Mickey touched the scar on his neck, and Minnie raised her head to look at him. They didn't say anything, slowly comprehending – but they did laugh. It seemed as if it been years since they could laugh, and Mickey swung Minnie around in his arms, the two of them giggling and guffawing in the sweetest remedy. They were happy, happy to be together, happy that everything was mercifully over. Mickey dropped the carpet, and pressed his forehead to her own. "I'm going to keep my promise to you."

"Thank you," Minnie said, and bit down the urge to apologize for what she had done, and for believing that he had died. It was going to take time for her to accept certain things would be beyond her control, and this was a start. Oh, how she loved him.

Mickey took her hand and began to head for the palace doors, the carpet trailing behind him, and Mickey thought it might have been clapping with its tassels when he wasn't looking. Past the large golden doors, everyone was waiting for them, with triumphant faces all around, some even breaking in applause to see the prince and his fair maiden.

Pete stood off to the side, watching but also not looking, his role in life now lost and unsure.

Donald stepped out, holding the lamp in his hands – when Minnie's tears had subsided, it had become cool to the touch again. The golden cuffs were on his wrists, though putting them on had been costly, given the harsh burns on his skin - a sacrifice he would make a thousand times over, if given the choice. "I wished for the kingdom to return to the way it was an hour ago," Donald explained a little proudly. "Now, if you would do the honors...?"

Mickey smiled at his friend, and gave him a hug before taking the lamp into his hands. "You know, you could've wished for your powers to go away."

Donald hadn't actually thought of that, and he glanced up in thought before making a decision. "I don't think so. They're part of me, always have been, and there's nothing I should be ashamed about." Although he did regret not wishing he was taller.

Mickey chuckled quietly, and then rubbed the lamp once, twice, three times. As expected, the golden cuffs dissolved on Donald's wrists to return to Mickey's, and Minnie took Donald's hands, kissing his wrists in gratitude for his pain. He ruffled the top of her head, embarrassed. Once more, the pink form of a woman began to coalesce in the air above them, ready to recite the rules, but this time Mickey cut her off, holding the lamp high above his head.

"I wish Minnie was free of the lamp, and was a normal mortal like the rest of us!"

The thing that could have been Minnie many moons ago stood still, and there was something akin to a smile gracing her ghostly features. She and the Minnie of flesh closed their eyes, and a bright glow emitted from the two of them. The lamp shuddered, then began to crack once, crack twice, before finally exploding apart, each piece flying off before dissolving into gold dust, and then oblivion. The large woman gently placed her gigantic hands around Minnie's entire body, her head tilted back, the light growing brighter and brighter before bursting into millions of pink butterflies that scattered into the wind, their beautiful scaly wings creating many rainbows of colors as they were touched by the sunlight above.

Minnie herself appeared to be wrapped in a light cocoon, and as the last of the butterflies flitted away, it burst, revealing herself in a pink glowing gown, jewels bestowed in a twinkling tiara on her forehead, the very essence of an elegant princess, just as she had been so long ago. The cuffs were gone, and her chest breathed in and out slowly, finally able to breathe and live as a being of flesh was supposed to. Mickey's own cuffs were now long gone, and the scar on his neck was once more hidden by his black fur. The last of the light faded, and Minnie opened her eyes, revealing they were once upon a time, to no one's surprise anymore, pink.

Goofy was the first one to speak. "Did it work?"

"Did it-" Horace repeated, incredulous. "What was that big ol' light show about, captain?! Of course it worked!"

"You can't be absolutely sure about these things," Clarabelle countered. "Mickey, make a wish, just to be sure!"

Mickey faltered, surprised by the sudden command. "I, uh, well..."

"Wish for a million wishes!"

"Wish for a quicker way home!"

"Wish for a cheese sandwich!"

"Wish for the Nile!"

"I wish for the Nile!" Mickey chose quickly, mostly to make everyone stop that nonsense. He waited – and nothing happened. There was no pain in his body, no puff of smoke, no glow, nothing. "Hey, it worked! Minnie, it-"

Now that Minnie could make choices again, she chose to tackle Mickey down with the strongest kiss her little body could muster, and even if she hadn't put her entire weight into it, Mickey would have fallen over anyway in shock. She wasn't satisfied with just one, however, and she covered his face in delighted, ecstatic kisses, tears rolling down her face, tears she no longer had to fear. "I love you!" she cried out, ignoring the amused snickering from her friends, because for this small moment of time she was her real self at last. "I love you so, so, so much! I love you more than anything in the world! I want to be with you forever!" She was no longer bound by chains and guilt, no longer held back by anything at all. "I love you! I love you, Mickey!"

Mickey wondered if he was ever going to get a word in, not that he really minded. When he finally found some strength that Minnie's constant kisses hadn't knocked out of him, he sat up and held her, trying not to laugh in-between words. "I love you too, Minnie! Gosh, I've loved you since I first laid eyes on you! If you'll really have me... you can always be by my side." Although he had always hoped this day would come, he also felt he didn't have the words to express everything about her in his heart.

Then again, they now had a lifetime for him to find a way. Mickey would do all that he could to see her happy – but also to let her be sad, angry, and all other emotions that had been denied to her by her captive life. One day he would be sultan, and he would need a wise sultana at his side to help him through good and bad, and to aid him with his temper, his self-loathing, and to ensure a reign that would mean peace for all.

… Speaking of, he was kind of forgetting why they were here in the first place, wasn't he? He swallowed, then rose to his feet, hand holding Minnie's, as he faced his parents. After an awkward of clearing his throat, he declared, "Ma, Pa - " then, considering, corrected himself, "Mother, Father... this is Lady Minnie... I mean to take her with us back to the kingdom, and have her live with us as my intended." He held his breath, his cheeks red. Minnie was also blushing, but also had the sense of mind to keep her head low and curtsied.

Al and Scheherazade shared an amused look, and Mickey tried to plead with his eyes for them not to do anything embarrassing. Scheherazade stepped forwards, hands pressed together. "Lady Minnie, if you do wish to come with us, your life will not always be a paradise of jewels and riches. You will be educated on all matters of royal life, especially if some day you may take the throne. My husband's legacy may earn you scorn, and my own past may create some difficult hurdles for you to overcome. Do you think you can handle such a life?"

Minnie lifted her head, meeting Scheherazade's eyes, and she could see where Mickey had gotten much of his nobility from. Mickey opened his mouth to defend her, but a squeeze from Minnie's hand stopped him. "I..." There was a moment of hesitation, but she drew her chest up, "I will do all that I can to earn my place in this world. I don't expect any of it to be easy, but I will keep trying. Mickey has shown me that giving up won't help anyone. Even if I don't succeed... I must make the effort. I will make the effort." Then, with the confidence of the princess she once was, said boldly, "A true sultan cannot lead his people with misery in his heart, and I know only I can make him happy."

Scheherazade watched Minnie carefully, before getting on one knee to be eye-level with her, taking her hand with both of hers. "In that case... I give you my blessings, Lady Minnie." She affectionately kissed Minnie's brow. "May the life you live with us be a long and peaceful one."

Minnie bowed her head again, unable to stop smiling. "You honor me, Sultana Scheherazade."

Sultan Al then stepped forward, one arm on his back, his fingers stroking his thin beard. "Only one question remains... do you have any cute pet names for each other yet?"

Mickey's cool confidence broke. "PA! Don't you DARE!"

"Personally I've always been fond of 'key to my heart'..."

"PA! I'M BEGGING HERE!"

As Mickey hysterically implored his parents to stop offering stupid pet names – Minnie was rather fond of "sun on the brightest day" - Goofy turned on his heel, ready to walk back to the ship. "Well, another adventure wrapped up! And now that I kept my word to Lady Scheherazade, I can go back to my wife and hang up my sails for good."

"Hey, what about us?" Horace asked. "Me and Clarabelle still haven't found our master!"

"Nor have Jose and I nearly made enough money for our dreams!" Panchito added.

"And I haven't found my family..." Donald glanced around, deciding that wasn't wholly accurate. "At least, my blood family."

"I'm in no mood to retire from my fun and games just yet," Daisy finished, jabbing a thumb to the rejoined family, who only just realized what was going on. "Who's going to help them back home? What happens to Sinbad and his crew without Sinbad?"

Goofy cupped his chin, giving this serious thought. "Well... if'fn you ask me, the ship should never belong to one person for too long. It just needs a new captain, is all. One who will lead you through all the next adventures." He nodded once to himself, and then undid the bandanna around his head – before walking over to Donald, and quickly tying it around his head. "And I think Captain Donald works real nicely, huh?"

Donald's jaw dropped, his fingers slowly reaching up to touch the cloth around his head. "M-Me? Really?"

Goofy smiled, hands on his hips, pleased at the choice he made. "Really really, if you want the job! Shoot, I don't think anyone else could do it better. What say you all?"

Donald expected at least one person to raise an eyebrow or question this, but instead, Horace and Clarabelle saluted, shouting "Aye aye, Captain Donald!"

"Our brave caballero is now a brave captain!" Jose hugged Donald's left, while Panchito hugged the right, joining in with "I would follow you to the ends of the earth, amigo!"

Daisy tsked. "I would offer a victory kiss, but it looks like you're a little occupied."

"What are we waiting for?" Mickey clapped his hands together once. "C'mon, Captain, you've got a crew to lead!"

Donald felt his cheeks redden, but then adjusted the bandanna on his head so he could see better. "Uh, hm! I guess... I guess my first order is... let's get out of this dump and back to the ship!" This was met with a round of "huzzah"s, and he felt as if he would never be miserable again. He began to lead the crew – his crew – to the ship, which was difficult given how Jose and Panchito still refused to let him go, even as Daisy was trying to tug them off with an annoyed "HANDS OFF MY MAN ALREADY!"

Mickey's family lagged behind, with Scheherazade going last, her eyes meeting Pete's. When everyone else was far enough ahead so that they wouldn't hear, she asked, "What will you do now?"

Pete found that he could no longer look at her directly anymore. "I... I did the worst things imaginable to that kid, and he... let me go. Why?"

"Life rarely goes as it's expected, Pete. A story can be planned and thought out... but real life doesn't always have resolutions. Just because you want something... doesn't mean it will make you happy. I ask you again – what will you do now?"

Pete suspected that if he asked her, she would let him come home with them. He'd be punished, no doubt, but she would still give him that chance. He wanted to ask. But he didn't. He didn't feel it was right, and for once that was something he cared about. "I think I'll... find my own way out." Maybe he'd find a new life. Maybe he'd be a bad seed forever. He was scared. Pete hoped she wouldn't say anything else.

She did, and it hurt as badly as he knew it would. "Be well, Pete." And she left him.

Mickey had started to notice his mother wasn't among them, but when he turned back, there she was, her eyes sad but a smile on her face. He smiled back at her, and decided there was no shame in being called her son. He loved his mother, and his father, and everyone here, and he was going to let the world know it. He could no longer hear the scream of the servant who slashed his throat, and he no longer felt a need to touch the scar on his neck that had finally begun to heal.

"How about, 'my dazzling heart'?" Al offered, ruining things again.

But this time, Mickey dove into his newfound confidence. "We are not doing that again! I'm gunna be called Mickey, by everyone, plain and simple!" He then whistled for his carpet, grabbing Minnie by the wrist and hopping on – Pluto yipped merrily, jumping on board – and he commanded it to head up to the sky, up where Minnie's powers had torn open the earth – it was technically not part of the underground kingdom, so it remained open. But in time the earth would crumble and it would be lost once more, fading into the past like a healed scar. He could hear his father's loud laughter and his friends teasing him for miles.

Up on the surface world once more, Pluto laid down in the laps of his master and mistress, and Mickey kissed Minnie. "I'm going to make all your wishes come true."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "Mickey... I'm glad you were born."

And, at last, at long last, so was Mickey.

Ah, this is where "happily ever after" comes, is that what you're thinking? That implies the story has an ending. However, I suggest that no story really ends, not so long as it's in your heart. The truth is, we all have an All-Seeing Eye, deep within ourselves. If you find it, you can find endless stories in other worlds, so long as you have the strength and courage to share them. Perhaps Mickey and Minnie ruled their kingdom for years with love and prosperity. Perhaps Pete redeemed himself in a far-off land with his own set of adventures. Perhaps Donald found his family, or found solace in the ones that took him in. You're imagining it now, aren't you? Every story lives on inside of you.

If this story gave you happiness, no matter how brief, then I am proud to have shared it.

My role ends here, but if you see me again, I would be honored. May my stories help you find your own, and may you find your own serenity in your existence, as my son did, once upon a time.