I've not posted anything for a long time, mainly due to being very busy, but also lacking inspiration. I've had this knocking around for a while, and hope to get it moving based on some feedback.

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Prologue

O, fair maiden, why do you hate me so, for taking you from your peasant home? Have I not provided you with all you could desire? How else must I make you love me? Upon a whim I take possession of sunlight, moon dust and the very stars that fall from the sky – but you, and your love have no price.

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The pages of her storybooks were well-thumbed; signs of a much-loved, memorised tome belonging to a child now full grown. In her little village nestled in the foothills of the Nibel mountains, people told a lot of stories to fill the empty days and nights; tales, fables, anecdotes—allegorical, mostly; a horror-tinged tale to hasten the children to their beds, or to deter them from wandering alone in the woods or too far from the sight of their mothers.

Her grandmother's stories were always fantastical and far-fetched, and she pertained to find no amusement or wisdom from them, obstinate a child as she was that no harm could come to her from any witch of ghoul that existed solely within the pages of her story books. Her grandfather would warn her that there was always truth to be found in the old tales.

"Especially the old ones, Young Tifa," He chastised her one day, when she had displayed an avid stubbornness. "They don't last so long without good reason. There's got to be some explanation for those wood choppers who wandered too far into the Northern Forests, and never came back…"

This was the sad tale of a handsome but selfish Prince who had once loved a beautiful maiden a long time ago. Her hair was the colour of gold, her skin as pale as the morning. The prince fell in love with her when she strayed near his castle, picking flowers and singing sweet mountain songs. Knowing no other way to make her his own, he stole her away into the night.

A maiden she was, but also an enchantress of terrible power. For his greed, his selfishness and his malice, she cursed him; never again would a woman look upon him without terrible fear, for she bound him to the body of a monster for all of eternity.

His rage was great yet his struggle fruitless. His castle and all those within it were cursed with him, bound to serve him for all of time.

And who could not comprehend his rage?—Never again would he love and be able to be loved in return.

For who could learn to love a beast?