Chiaroscuro sat in the darkest depths of the dungeon and gently touched his singed whiskers; the charred remains were hardly helpful for navigating the dark labyrinth of his home. Yet as he sat there gently stroking the little stubs of once glorious whiskers he could think only of the flame. The brilliant light which the dungeon guard had held with giddy sadism had been so beautiful and enamoring. It had illuminated the darkness and shown him crevices and lines in the dungeon guard's face that even his sophisticated sight had neglected to catch. This light had been painful, it had burned him and scorched him and yet it called to him softly like a mother to a babe.
"I must have it…"
So he set off, slinking away from his other rat brethren, through an intricate system of tunnels and forged holes. He ran up the long winding staircase, his escape from a darkened hole of a sanctuary, and stopped before the dungeon door. There beneath the door was a strange glow, so much more beautiful than the pale math flame. Chiaroscuro slipped beneath the door and stood in the sunlight, reveling in a world he had never known. The warmth of the light touched his face and he breathed the clean fresh scent of flowers and faint perfume. He walked slowly in it, the brilliant colors of this world were vibrant and alive, beckoning him to come and dance with their fancy patterns of soft, warm fibers. He walked on the carpet, a soft and cushioned surface, which encompassed his tired feet and beckoned him to sleep. He was tempted to lie right there and doze, but decided to walk further in the world. He had to experience everything.
As he ran through the hallways exploring the different scents and sights, he began to feel a new euphoric feeling. It was far more positive than any meager satisfaction of hunger soothed, it was an extension of him, a recreation of what he once was. "Could it be, this is happiness?" He had heard the jailed citizens speak of happiness, it was a thrilling feeling which filled them and gave them a sense of untouchable ease. Happiness, he realized, was merely being in the sunlight and able to see and experience the world freely.
He scampered up to windowsills and stared out at beautiful gardens with vibrant greens and soft alluring petals. Even the stone of the castle was warmed by the glorious sunlight and nothing smelled musty or dank. He cuddled in the curtains; the large velvet folds encompassed him in such extravagant luxury he couldn't get enough of their soft touch. Even the cats in the castle were fat and slow, and preferred long naps stretched out on a terrace to chasing a curious rat. He touched gleaming jewelry and stared at his scruffy reflection in gems, laughing as they twisted his shaped to a fluffed ball of fur. He even paused in the library and took in the sweet smell of aged text and ran his little paws across the thick leather bound volumes. "Ah, if only I could read…"
Suddenly he stopped; the seductive smell had reached his tiny nose and whispered small temptations into his ears. It was the scent of food, but a food like none that he had ever experienced. He could sense the delicate spices and the sweet aroma of flavor, and it led him as if through a dream through a hole in the wall and out through a gap in the ceiling. The golden chandelier illuminated the large dining hall with ease and Chiaroscuro's small paws slipped slightly on the slick surface as he inched his way closer to the entrancing scent of food.
The humans were dining elegantly on a long table, set with delicate linens and gleaming silverware. They sat up straight as if an invisible board were there to guide their spines and ate almost mechanically in silence. All spare for one young princess who snuck glances around the table and occasionally let out a soft giggle. Her eyes twinkled mischievously and her long golden hair slipped out of its elegant form in a few unruly wisps. He crept closer to her on the chandelier; she was as full of light and life as the sunlight and seemed eager to dance around the room in the same fashion. His accursed paws slipped again and he almost fell, a jerky save on a jewel prevented him from plummeting down to the gilded dinner below.
Her eyes suddenly fixated on him, the rushed movement catching her eye and she looked around the table to see if anyone else had noticed the lone rat clinging to a chandelier for dear life. He watched in horror and she pointed a slim porcelain finger at him and babbled excitedly at the other dinner guests. He tried desperately to pull himself up but felt his paws slipping further in his frenzied state. His last claw slipped from its grip and he fell for what seemed like an eternity to the dinner below. In a hot splash he landed in the queen's soup and the broth filled his mouth in temporary ecstasy. The aroma had been a mere phantom of the bold and compelling flavor which lay in the china bowl. He looked up at the queen, a dreamy smile in his face and chattered happily at her. "Your highness, this soup is fabulous! If I may say so, I am quite excited I ventured-"
She looked beyond horrified, a hand came rushing up and he covered his eyes expecting the worst. When no blow was struck and he found himself standing unharmed in the bowl of warm soup, he looked to the queen who clutched her chest and puffed excitedly. She struggled for words, then fell to the ground as still as the decorations around them. Chiaroscuro didn't need to creep closer to know she was dead, he recognized the limp stillness from many rats sorely afflicted by poison. He couldn't explain how, but he knew this was the end of his beautiful scamper in the sunlight. He looked to the princess, eyes narrowed; she was the one who ended it. She ruined everything…
They screamed at him and he ran as cutlery was thrown savagely by the enraged humans. "It was an accident, please forgive me! I meant no harm!" He pleaded his in squeaky voice as he ran far from their cruel words and sharp knives, he ran until his legs burned with exertion. He knew the safety and darkness of the dungeon was his only salvation and yet he abhorred it, the darkness knew no kindness, no color, nor warmth. Yet he retreated there anyway, scampering desperately away from his pursuers.
As he ran he tried to think desperately how a beautiful venture had become so toxically ruthless, how an innocent experience had marked him a murderer. Her face flashed in his mind, the twinkling blue eyes and soft golden curls. She had done this. She had pointed him out and screamed as he fell, her merciless declaration had cost him his freedom in the sun and the taste of new glorious foods. She had marked him a murder and ended his life just as it had begun such a beautiful journey.
"I swear upon the golden light, I will make you pay Princess… if it is the last thing I do, your light will darken as you forced mine to."
He returned to his brethren and stared upon them with disgust, they so reveled in darkness and misery they had no inkling of what glorious wonders were just beyond a wooden door. He was not one of them, he had grown and evolved from a singed rat to an enlightened creature that strove only towards the light… and yet was tragically deprived of it thus. He curled in a ball on his musty bed of tattered newspaper and cried himself softly to sleep. The pain in his heart twisted as a dagger being plunged deeper as he thought of all the beauty he would now have to live without. He was forced to live amongst rats who knew nothing of their shortcomings and he envied them for that, they could live so contentedly without the knowledge. He vowed to never tell them, "it is far better for me to suffer alone, than to inflict this agony on another."
The days which passed slowly after that, he could think only of the princess. Her long beautiful curls, azure eyes, and the sweet porcelain skin which had held all the brightness of his precious sun. He imagined her laid before him, bound with golden ropes, the same beautiful entwinements which had adorned the velvet drapes, her blue eyes dancing in fear. He would run his long fingers across her dress, the softest silk he would ever experience, and smile darkly as he stared deep into those traitorous eyes. Finally he would creep ever so softly up by her ear, brush the golden hair away from it and whisper softly into it as he gently stroked that porcelain skin.
"Go ahead and blame me for your mother's death, but the queen's fate rested in hands much larger than mine. Do you know whose hands they were?"
She would shake her head and he would delight in the frenzied scent of fear, Chiaroscuro laughed softly in the midst of his fantasy.
"It was you, princess. Had you simply kept my presence silent, your mother would be alive… What your father must think of you…"
Now she would fight it, fight that realization with the strength of her will. He wouldn't push the point he would wait, slipping back towards the darkness to watch his beautiful prize writhe in agony against his words. She'd struggle to get away, no longer from him, but from the engulfing guilt which was threatening to swallow her whole. Then gradually, she would stop, he body would cease its struggle and stillness eerily similar to her mother's would take over her body. This is when the guilt would convince her, help her to realize.
He nodded satisfied, the dark conjure of his desire consuming him. He pictured releasing her, gently loosening the binds so she could sit up, and she would stare at him. Her eyes, once filled with light, would be darkened with the horror of her action. She would move mechanically away from him and walk towards the door. It would be at the door she would pause and look back to him, those eyes filled with tears which would never dry.
In the darkness he laughed maniacally, this beautiful fantasy he coveted more than he could explain. "This will be your reality princess, I promise you that!"