Once upon a time...
Hidden in a beautiful castle in the very heart of France lived a young and handsome prince named Erik. Although he had anything his selfish young heart desired, he was never content. He taxed the villages surrounding his castle immensely to fill his domain with the most beautiful objects, to host lavish parties and invite the most beautiful people.
It was at a party like this when his life turned around.
He sat on his golden throne in his expensive dark blue robes, drinking red wine from his golden goblet. At his feet danced many pretty women clad all in white, smiling radiant smiles at him. On the small stage to his right stood a woman in a extremely poofy golden dress, her shiny red hair falling over her shoulder in giant tresses. The woman's name was Carlotta Guidicelli and she was a famous opera singer, invited to the party to sing while her husband, Ubaldo Piangi, accompanied her on a piano with the rest of the castle orchestra sitting behind them. If Erik were to describe the woman's voice, it would be overly-dramatic with a extremely thick Italian accent, but people seemed to like her, so he said no word.
As the next song came on, the prince gracefully stood up from his majestic throne, the glances of all the ladies immediately on him. As he waded his way through the dancing women, he sometimes grabbed one of the girls by the hand or the waist, spun her around and discarded her afterwards, moving onto the next dancer, who caught his sight. In his trail remained heartbroken women, yearning for just another dance with the prince.
As the song came to it's grand finish, a bright lightning bolt struck down from the sky and desperate knocking sounded from the glass door behind the prince's throne. Without anybody opening it, the door flew open, the cold wind from the outside making all candles in the bright ballroom to lose their light. A hunched-over figure in a dark cloak slowly crept in, stopping a few meters away from the prince, the hood drawn over the intruder's face.
The prince ushered one of his servants to hand him a candlestick andcautiously came a few steps closer. In front of Erik kneeled an old wrinkly woman in dirty and tattered clothes. She was covered in filth and her thick, but worn down woolen cloak was wet from the raging storm outside.
"Please, my lord, could you not find me someplace to wait through the storm? You could just give me a place in the stables and some old piece of bread and some water. I won't need much." The old woman begged, extending one of her skeletal hands towards Erik. In her hand, she was holding a beautiful blood red rose. The flower was in full bloom, small droplets of water resting on the petals.
Prince Erik took the rose from her, studying the flower. After a moment, he smiled a sarcastic grin, which lead to a mocking laughter erupting from his lips. "A rose? You expect me to give you shelter for a simple flower? To an old and hideous hag like you?" He mocked the beggar and threw the flower onto the cold marble floor. "Go to someone other's door."
"But, prince Erik, I advise you not judge by appearances. True beauty is found within. Would you not turn me away if I were a gorgeous young maiden, like all those girls behind you?"
"Get out of my sight!" The prince bellowed, his icy blue eyes flaring wildly with anger.
"Very well..." the woman said, bending down for the rose she brought. Soft golden light started to shine from under her hood and soon, the before dark room was once again lit up. But not by the candles. The light erupted from the woman's features, which turned from old and filthy to young and clean, her entire being dripping with magic power.
All the people started to run away from the gorgeous enchantress, who now stood before them, leaving the young prince and his servants alone. At that moment, Erik realized his mistake. He fell onto his knees in front of the sorceress.
"Please, miss, forgive me for being so rude." The prince tried to apologize to her. "You can wait through the storm in the castle's finest room and I will give you what ever you would want..."
"It is too late for apologizing, dear prince." The sorceress said, slowly circling around him, the train of her glowing robes surrounding him and her pale green eyes piercing right through him. "I have seen with my own eyes and heard with my own ears that there is no love in your heart whatsoever. Therefore, you will be punished for your actions."
The enchantress leaned closer to him and kissed the prince's forehead. One would expect a kiss from a beautiful woman to be soft and comforting, but her kiss burned and made pain surge all through Erik's body.
He clutched the right half of his face with his hands, feeling his entire face shifting. He looked at the enchantress from behind his fingers. "From this day forward, you shall wear your ugly soul on your face, dear prince. Your servants shall become mere objects, so that you won't have a human being to take comfort from. No one will remember you, them or this place. Your castle shall be surrounded by winter, reminding you of the coldness of your heart."
"I shall give you three gifts, prince Erik. Take great care of each of them." The enchantress fashioned three objects out of thin air. "The first is a magical book. If you lay your hand over one of the pages and think of a place, where you would like to escape to, you will be there in your mind. The second is a mirror. If you look into it and say someone's name, it will show them to you. And last, a rose." The sorceress took the rose she was holding and put it in a glass case, where it became suspended in mid air and it it's petals retracted back to a young bud. "This rose will measure your time. When the last petal of this rose falls, you will stay like this forever. However, this spell binding you and your servants to this place can be broken. You just have to find someone, who you would love and they would love you in return."
With those words, the enchantress vanished in a burst of light. Erik sat stunned on the ground for a few more moments, before daring to look into the mirror the sorceress gifted him. However, when his eyes caught sight of his reflection, he gave out a a yelp of horror. He no longer looked like a handsome young prince, rather a gruesome monster.
The right side of his face was completely twisted, the deformity continuing all the way to the back of his head. His hands were bony and had scars going from his fingertips all the way up his arm and to the rest of his body. His before muscular and lightly tanned form became skeletal and pale, showing off all his scars all the more.
Soon, he started to rip apart all of the portraits, that he was in, trying to forget about the past. Most of his time, he started to spend in the West Wing, where his chambers were situated. There he kept his magical rose.
As days, months and soon years started to pass, he just watched the rose slowly blooming. He fell into despair and soon enough lost all hope of ever being happy.
For who could ever learn to love a monster?
