Chapter 13: Fils

Misrak first felt Belle's presence when he heard, from the library, the sound of unusual commotion and bustling. A moment later, Amara burst in, Bibi on her heels looking so excited that she was in pain.

"She is coming." Amara said accusingly, as though by his research of prophecies he had undoubtedly summoned her.

"Who?" he asked dazedly. His thoughts were clouded over with ancient words and tiny script.

"Belle!" Bibi squeaked, "Oh, Misrak, she is not here yet, but she will be!"

"How do you know?" Misrak asked, squinting at them suspiciously. Something odd was happening in his chest, and he was not yet aware whether it was joy or dread, but he refused to figure it out until he knew whether it was all a lie.

"Wagaye came and told us, and he is always right!" Bibi cried. Amara turned to her, annoyed.

"Bibi, must I ask you to leave?"

"Oh, I am sorry, Amara!" Bibi said, "It is just, I am so excited, it is just like the prophecy said, and then they can be married and then we can…" she trailed off, her eyes growing huge. Amara's expression was livid.

"Leave. Now." she said coldly. Bibi whimpered.

"But Amara, I am sorry, so sorry, I forgot-"

"OUT!"

Bibi's eyes filled with tears of fright and shame, and she scurried out of the room. After she left, Amara would not look at Misrak.

"You knew." He said this quietly, but his anger was unmistakable.

"It is not important. What will be will be."

"It is important! It was my mother, it is my life!"

"Which your father will surely take away if you make mention of it in his chateau!" Amara said, turning to him with crazed fear in her eyes, "I love you and your sister, and you cannot know what is to be if you plan to see any of it!"

"But Wagaye said-"

"Wagaye is reckless." Amara said in a hard voice, "He is wise, but he does not know all, especially when it comes to you two."

"What does Alitash have to do with it?"

Amara opened her mouth to respond, but then stopped, her mouth forming a very thin line. She began to toy with her sleeve and avoid his gaze again.

"Amara?"

"I refuse to say."

Misrak fumed.

"I command you to tell me."

Amara looked up, taken aback.

"You-"

"Yes, I have said it." Misrak said, puffing out his chest in false confidence, "I am your prince."

Misrak felt he could have wept at the sight of her face. It was stunned, hurt, and altogether confused and lost. He could tell that now she knew what he did, that everything that had happened in this short period of time had changed him. He was not sure that he liked that, but he knew it was the only way to hear the answer, and he would hear it.

"There is a prophecy about Alitash as well." she said throatily, staring at the wall behind his head, "And-"

"Yes?"

"Yeshi is…not dead."

Misrak felt himself physically recoil.

"What?" he hissed, "How- but she saw him-"

"He was shot, but not dead." She seemed close to tears now.

"But- how- she- he-" Misrak was babbling now. His nephew, alive? All thoughts of Belle's return were forgotten, and he fell to the floor in shock. It had taken so long for him to comprehend his death, even more so for Alitash and Nishan, and now to find that they had believed to be a lie…

"Where is he? How is he? How did he survive?"

Amara sighed.

"All that I may tell you," she said, still staring at the wall, "is that Yeshi was close to death. But something that your mother made…a necklace…was enchanted, and it saved him."

"But- but how could a necklace save him?"

"It was given to Alitash, who was instructed to give it to Yeshi. When Yeshi was shot, the enchantment was supposed to give him new life. That is all I am permitted to say." Amara finally looked away from the wall and straight into his eyes.

"Am I allowed to leave now, Your Highness?" Misrak shivered; the formality and the royal title were so unfamiliar that they stung. However, he kept his emotions within and nodded.

"You may." Amara nodded back in what he could only assume was her stiff version of a bow and swept out of the room. It was only after a moment that he realized that he was still sitting on the ground, and a few more before he remembered that Belle was coming. He rose, and headed in the direction of the golden grilles that she would enter by.

"To think… Yeshi, alive!" he murmured to himself. He wondered if he should tell Alitash, but knew, from some instinct he did not know he possessed, that he should not.

Belle hesitated.

She was walking through the darkened garden that was now lit with the same sort of mysterious candles embedded in the trees and plants that led to the garden's front gate. Wagaye had gone ahead of her, leaving her to make the final leg of the journey on her own, but she did not have the confidence that he seemed to have in her. Even with the sparkling dress that exposed her pale shoulders and her hair pinned up in a way that would have impressed even Colette (though it hurt to think of her), she felt self conscious and nervous. How had Samson explained her departure? Had he told the truth about how she had been able to leave? Or had he done something more sinister, made her seem much crueler than she was? She did not trust Samson.

The candlelight illuminated some leaves of fall that were caught up by a slight breeze and danced around in the air for a moment. She closed her eyes and imagined their beauty to be her own, and as she did so, she felt a small surge of strength. Angling her feet out slightly as she walked as though she was ice skating, she felt like she was gliding over the ground. Soon she was moving elegantly forward, humming a tune to herself who's origin she was not sure of.

When she approached the golden grilles, she worried about how she would get it open. Amara had simply licked it, but she, who was a girl and supposed to make a graceful entrance, could not do that…could she?

Her fears were quickly put to rest when she was able to see better. The golden gate had already been risen, and a small cluster of people had gathered to greet her. She did not recognize any of them, and smiled nervously at their quiet welcome. One of them, a woman who was at least thirty years her senior, timidly took her arm and lead her in the same direction that Amara had the first day she had come, toward the throne room. The others followed, gazing discreetly at her dress every so often and quickly looking away from its unbearable beauty. Belle, very uneasy with the silence, finally asked the woman who was leading her,

"What is your name?"

The woman looked up at her, frightened, then realizing she was not a threat, whispered,

"Makeda."

Belle did not question her further, realizing that these people found her very presence painful, though she was completely unaware that they were intimidated by her radiance. These people, though they were in the same tribe, were completely different than the others that she had met before. They lacked the sense of pride and regality that was evident in Misrak's, Alitash's, and Amara's mannerisms, even when they themselves were not aware that they were exuding such a sense.

Before they could reach the throne room, Misrak appeared before them from around the corner, looking shaken. When he caught sight of Belle, he seemed to go pale.

"Belle." he said, stunned. When he did not take his eyes away from her, she looked down, her cheeks flushing in spite of how she wished that they wouldn't.

"Makeda, I will take her from here." he informed the woman. She gave a bow in reply and scuttled off, the rest of them echoing her movements. In less than a moment, Belle found herself alone with Misrak. He looked at her, and she looked at the bottom of the long robes that covered his feet. She wondered if he wore shoes or if he went barefoot.

"Why did you leave?"

The tenderness in the simple question caused her to look up sharply, scrutinizing every detail of his face for what he could mean by it. His features, however, were unreadable.

"I-" There were thousands of ways she could say why she had left, thousands more to ask if he had wished she hadn't. She swallowed them all, and said simply,

"I was allowed to."

"How?"

"Your father. He- he came and- did he not tell you?"

Misrak frowned.

"He told us things. He said that you had escaped. Run away."

Belle shook her head vigorously, causing some strands of hair to fall from their coiffure.

"He let me go." she said, "He told me that I was free to go, to see my sister be married and to live once more with my father. If only…" her eyes misted over, and she felt empty.

"I knew he was lying." Misrak said grimly. He stared at the ground, causing their roles to be reversed as she continued to study him. After a while, Belle said, hesitantly,

"You have not asked me why I came back."

Misrak looked up, and Belle felt silly for having said it.

"No." he admitted, taking a step closer, "But I am glad that you have returned."

He pushed some of the strands of hair that had fallen behind her ear, and their eyes met, both of them surprised with the boldness and intimacy of this action.

"I do intend to stay." Belle affirmed, answering an unasked question. A smile played on his lips, but he didn't say a word. She took in all of his features, amazed at the simplicity of doing so. With other people, even members of her family, to do something so probing would have been uncomfortable, but with Misrak she did it with the ease that she had in examining her own features in a looking glass. As she did so, she came to the calm realization that she no longer felt empty.

In reply, he caught her hand with his own and let a full smile blossom across his face.

"Let me take you to your room. There is no reason to go to the throne room tonight." he said, and she nodded. Wordlessly, he brought her to the blue room, and as they parted, Belle was aware that a change had taken place, and whether it was due to her appearance or something that had happened in her absence, she was not sure. In spite of all the reservations she had, it made her smile as she danced through her room and prepared herself for bed.

Wagaye beamed as he watched Misrak and Belle part in the cracked mirror. They were slowly gravitating towards each other, and though he knew they would both question the validity of their growing attraction- Belle thinking it to be the dress's doing, Misrak thinking he was influenced by the prophecy and the joy of knowing his nephew was alive- a foundation had been laid, and it would only be a matter of time before they realized that they were meant for each other.

He languidly put the mirror back where he had found it, stood up, and stretched, youthful energy surging through his veins. It was times like these that he realized that he was only a teenaged boy, even if he didn't think like one.

Unexpectedly, a key began to turn in the door's lock, and like a flash, Wagaye was pressed against the wall that the door would open upon. As Samson stormed into the room, Wagaye slipped out behind him, wiping a small amount of sweat from his brow. That had been close, but for the few seconds in which it took place, it had been undoubtedly exhilarating.

He carefully tucked the necklace that had swung forward back under his robes and darted into the shadows.

Haha! Another chapter, and more of the truth coming forth! I hope I made it obvious enough ;D

As for my wonderful, fabulous, darling reviewers: how do I love thee? Let me count the ways (55 reviews! Amazing.). Or, rather, answer any questions:

Phillippa of the Phoenix- No, I haven't read that story, but after you mentioned it, I looked it up- it looks quite good! Another thing to add to my list of books to check out. As for the mirror, it's all Wagaye- I don't want to explain everything now, more on that later! And Alitash has a bit more transforming to do before she and Belle completely get along, but she's definitely realized what a witch she's being.

v- Never fear! I have this story planned out, and I don't plan on abandoning it :)

ash vault rose garden- Thank you for all your reviews, dear!

Philippa- And the new developments just keep coming! I hope you like them :D I haven't read those books, I must check them out...And you aren't being nagging at all, it's nice to hear that people are excited to see the next chapter; it's very motivating. I can also see why you would like this story better than the Harry Potter one; I like to think that they're rather different, both in plot and characters, which causes even me to sometimes favor one over the other (though it switches; I always like the one who's chapter I'm currently writing more!)

zagato- Something about that review made me smile like mad. The word beautiful when it comes to a story is, in my humble opinion, one of the highest praises you can give.Thank you, I'm so glad you like it.

And to everyone else, thank you so much! Hopefully all these exclamation marks and thank you's can give you an inkling of how much I adore every one of you.