Author's note: So now both of our highly interesting protagonists have begun a bit more of a comraderie, but not quite. The Beast now explains why…
Disclaimer/claimer: If you haven't read the other disclaimers/claimers at the beginnings of the other chapters, I'm wondering why, but hey, that's life and it's all good. I own Arielle, Orlando, Saruptal the wizard, Nelisia, Tizirra, Doran, and anybody else involved in the story who hails from the White Realm and is not featured in normal fairy tales.
Beast:
Dreams, Thoughts, and Worries
Beauty spent…months very contentedly in the palace.
I woke in the middle of the night – almost more than five months after Beauty had come to the castle – from my sleep, my mind whirling and my chest heaving for air. Frenzied, I sat up and looked around at my surroundings, the terror of the dream that had just possessed me carrying itself through into reality. Where am I? went through my head, and then, Where is Beauty? What's happening here?
Suddenly, I realized that I was no longer caught in the nightmare and my fear dissipated, leaving me ice cold and trembling beneath the bedclothes. I fell back onto the pillows and stared at the black expanse of the canopy-cover above me, letting its blackness consume my mind.
"It was only a dream." I whispered to myself, swallowing hard as my heart continued to thud in my chest. "It was only a dream. It wasn't real. It was only a dream…only a dream."
But, the question was, had it been just that – only a dream?
I sat up a little bit, leaning back on my elbows, and surveyed the room around me again. The moon's pale rays shone in through the windows, casting a blend of shadow and light into the room: highlighting and darkening pieces of furniture, walls, draperies, and whatnot.
Most of the room, I could tell, even by the scarce amount of light, was a veritable ruin. Being a beast, faery side or no faery side, had many drawbacks, most of which I have already named. A certain inability to maintain order in my personal dwelling place was one of those. Somehow, however, the Sprytes managed to make the place look at least somewhat inhabitable, which meant that several of the chairs in it still had their brocade coverings and the bed was generally unscathed.
Having claws and fangs and a regrettably short temper when it came to my curse, however, wasn't much help. My mind was drifting then and I had to bring it back to its original, intended path.
The dream.
I hadn't seen the wizard who was the cause of my misery since the beginning of my three-hundred year exile from my true self and home, but there had been no mistaking the figure whom I had seen in my dream. He still had the same hawk-like eyes, the same sharp features, the same hair, mustache, and goatee, and the same completely infuriating demeanor of self-assertive arrogance. Yes, perhaps, he looked a bit older now…but was it now?
The entire vision had seemed all too realistic…
Restless, suddenly, I got out of bed and crossed the room to the huge doors that led out onto my balcony, grabbing the black-, turquoise-, and blue shirt that I had left thrown over a chair nearby the night before and pulling it on as I went. I shoved the tall, heavy doors wide open and walked out onto the balcony, my skin beginning to prickle all over at the touch of the cold air.
It was near dawn, I sensed, telling from the change in the atmosphere. Soon the birds would begin to stir themselves, the deadly nighttime shadows would retreat, and dawn would come. An icy, hesitant breeze whisked onto the marble balcony, brushing up against the stone and riffling its timid fingers through my rough, unruly mane, and I caught the scent of morning on the air.
Calm, I told myself, Calm. Now think.
Saruptal had been in my dream. It had been as if I was invisible, an unseen observer in some secret meeting between the wizard himself and a youth who looked like he might have been an assistant of sorts. I hadn't been able to tell exactly where they were, but it certainly hadn't been the White Realm. Even in my subconscious state, I would have been able to know my beloved former home.
The wizard had just entered the room in which I seemed to be present, coming up from a winding stairway. Tables with books, glass instruments, and all sorts of bubbling liquids were present all about the place – a study of sorts?
"Things are going well for us, Arvoer," he had commented to the wiry, nervous-looking boy who was with him. "Soon we will find the means to destroy the pathetic existence of our dear, dear friends…however, he is still out there, and that means that we are yet threatened. If it is discovered in the White Realm that there is a hint of betrayal from our quarter, everything that has ever been worked for here will be destroyed."
He had narrowed his eyes then, and seemed to be looking for something, searching with his piercing, hawk-like gaze.
"He is out there…somewhere…and I intend to spend every power that I have, if I must, to find him."
Saruptal, the wizard who had been so vehement in his desire to carry out the orders against the thief who had stolen the famed Book of Hours, was evil, the dream told me. He had turned against the White Realm, if he had ever truly been in its service, and now he was plotting to destroy it. But this wasn't real. It couldn't be. I had had many realistic dreams in my life, but none of them had ever been of actual events. It was simply wraiths of my own tortured mind that had brought this on.
And yet…you have to wonder.
If Saruptal was looking for me, he wasn't going to find me. I would make sure of that. I had no desire to meet up with him again after what he had done to me, and if he was indeed evil – if he came to find me – or Arielle—
"He will never find her!" I swore fiercely, my voice turning into a snarling hiss, as I gritted my teeth together, my claws moving to dig into the marble ledge before me. "He will never find her, and if he does—"
I'll kill him. I'll kill him first, and then she will be mine.
All mine.
Suddenly, I was horrified at my own thoughts. What was I – more monster than faery? I was thinking the type of thoughts that a dragon, an insatiably jealous, bloodthirsty creature, would think in regards to his territory…or to his mate.
Oh no.
I would never let any harm come to Beauty, I knew that, but what were these thoughts of rage and murder and blood that were invading my mind and possessing me?
* * *
All of that – my dream, thoughts, and worries combined – twisted my mind so that it put me in a very bad mood. I felt sullen and jealous and concerned and tired and resentful even more so than usual, and I hardly even knew why. By the time that full morning rolled around, I was in no way ready to let the bright new day change my demeanor. I avoided the places where I knew Beauty would be and kept mostly to my own rooms, shutting the Sprytes out and brooding in the awful silence, which somehow seemed the only thing that wouldn't drive me perfectly mad.
In the five months that Beauty had lived here, and after our agreement for me to be her teacher in the matters of magic and enchantment, we had scarcely had anything more between us than simply a master-to-apprentice relationship. I spent very little time with her. I didn't dare trust myself with anything more than a few hours of being at her side, and it took every ounce of my strength and resolve to force myself into knowing that I could not have more.
I couldn't trust myself to be friends with her.
So we had a very standoffish companionship, and it was all because I knew that there was still a darker side of me that was uncontrollably and inherently animal.
And there was no way out of it.
For centuries, I had been wracking my brain trying to figure out how I would find the person who could help me break my spell. Could it be Beauty? I had hardly let that thought sink into my mind before I dismissed it, because what if she wasn't the one?
What if I never found the one?
Beyond this doubt and fear, only one thing stood in the way of my being a friend to Beauty – I couldn't let go of my pride.
If Beauty ever saw me for the beast that I was, if she knew that I wasn't really this ugly, revolting, malformed animal, my humiliation would be greater than I could yet imagine. I couldn't tell her of who I was, I wouldn't tell her of who I was, I had no idea of who could save me from my curse, and I couldn't bring myself to giving in to the hope that it might indeed be her.
Fate, whatever it was and however it worked, was not that kind.
The Sprytes mostly kept away from me that day, and I noticed that Beauty did not seek me out. News of the happenings between the castle's only two non-Sprytian inhabitants traveled quickly. More quickly than I liked. All day long, I was in a foul disposition because of my inability to be with Beauty, because of my dream and the worries that it had brought on.
And then everything became a thousand times worse.
* * *
Author's note: Duh-duh-duhhhh! What exactly does he mean by that? Read and see!