"Get out now!" roared Patrick, or what was left of him. She ran from the room, before he could hit her again. Tears rolled down her face before she could stop them. What had she done, why had she agreed?

"Beauty!" she screamed as she entered her cottage. "Patrick needs you! Please, go to his house, now!" she broke down in sobs as her sister peered at her curiously. "Just go!"

Beauty frowned, but walked out of the cottage, leaving her lying on her bed clutching her pillow.

Suddenly another scream echoed through the house. She realised she must have fallen asleep, and Beauty was now back, crystal tears falling from her emerald eyes. "What did you do? You witch!"

"I..."

Beauty stared at her older sister. "That monster! Are you trying to kill me? It could have killed me!"

"That was Patrick! And you can break the curse! You love him, don't you?"

"Love?" Beauty laughed haughtily. "I don't love him... I have never loved anyone... not even you! It is a pointless emotion."

"I knew it! You aren't worthy of him!"

"That's why you did this? You are just jealous, as you always have been, jealous of me." Beauty glared at her, daring her to say something back and anger fumed in the air.

She flung her hands at Beauty and the roil of anger went flying at her younger sister. Beauty gasped and her eyes widened. She clutched at her throat and slid against the wall onto the floor. Her older sister watched as her Beauty's face took on a blueish tinge, as the younger girl gasped for air. Then Beauty was silent.

Blackness filled the enchantress' vision and she was back to where she had first heard the voice.

"You have more power than I expected..." the echoes murmured.

"I no longer want a part of this... please just let me go."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, because we had a deal."

"I... I have nothing to give you," she wished she could cry. What else was there for the voice to take?

"Really? I beg to differ."

"What?" she asked numbly.

"Your soul," the voice stated simply, causing her to gasp. Then she pulled herself together and forced herself to be brave. What else was there to live for? She thought miserably.

"Kill me then!"

"Oh no... nothing as simple as that. I want your soul for eternity and I shall have it, because that was the deal we made."

"I made no such deal." She tried to keep her voice strong, but couldn't help it wavering.

"Not that it is worth as much now... not after what you did to your sister, but I shall take anything I can get. There is, as there always must be, one way to release yourself from this bond."

"H... how?" she stuttered.

"I need thirteen souls... just thirteen. Now you are number one, but... if you help me to collect thirteen others, then I will release you."

She closed her eyes, visions of Beauty in front of them. "I won't kill anyone."

"I am not asking you to. All I need you to do is curse each descendant of Patrick. Simply make them each a bargain: you will break the curse if they promise their sons in place of themselves. They will all agree I'm sure... you can persuade them! If you do this for thirteen generations, then I will have my thirteen souls and you can be free."

"I... I don't know if I can do that," she had loved Patrick... but Beauty was right, love was a pointless emotion.

"Of course you can. It is very simple!" The voice was growing angry now. "Do you want me to own your soul?"

She paused. "No... alright... I'll do it."

"Good," the voice sneered, and suddenly she was back in Patrick's gardens. She hurried into the house, the voices words repeating in her head. "You will break the curse if they promise their sons place in theirs."

She could hear the sound of destruction as she neared Patrick's room. Glass was shattering and material was being ripped. She stepped into the room, and saw that everything was in tatters. Paintings had great claw marks through them, the bed sheets had been ripped off, mirrors were smashed and Patrick was still roaring and throwing himself around the room, trying to hit the rose.

"I don't care if I never break the curse... Oh break you wretched thing!"

"I can break it... or rather reverse it," she said quietly.

"You can?" He whirled around. "You! Of course you can- you put it on me!"

"Yes... and I can break it." She paused. "I once loved you, you know? But you broke my heart." She gave a small laugh. "It's strange... that was only last night, and yet now... I feel as if I have no heart to break..." She cleared her throat as Patrick stared at her, unbelieving. "But I can break your curse, in return for one thing."

"What? I'll give you anything!" he said eagerly.

"Good. Then I will break the curse. All it takes is first born son. Promise that he will take your place."

Patrick hesitated. He didn't have a child. He might never have a son to take his place. Therefore, by promising, he wasn't doing anything wrong to anybody. It didn't seem right, but neither did he want to stay like this forever. "I... I agree," he said.

"Good," the voice answered, and once again, Patrick began to change, this time back into his former handsome self. But now Kairos felt nothing. Her heart was broken, never to be mended. She had given it away just as she had done her soul.

But Patrick eventually did have a son, and in turn he had a son, and so on for thirteen generations. And each time the enchantress would turn him into a Beast, and get him to pledge his son in his place. But there were two things neither Kairos nor the voice had counted on. Because of the "get out" clause, it was always possible for the Beast to break the curse himself, however unlikely. And the other thing was that Beauty wasn't dead. Her father found her and managed to revive her, and though neither she nor Patrick talked about what had happened that day, they were both linked, as were their sons and daughters. For you see, dear reader, Beauty also had a daughter, and she in turn had a daughter, and so on for thirteen generations.

And these two, tied by their ancestor's mistakes, would always meet, just before Kairos broke them up, and sent them on their separate ways. For never did they manage to break the curse, at least not before the curse was passed on to the next generation. So they would marry someone else, and always have their respective son or daughter, but never would they forget the curse, or their first love. And this is how Adam and Calla come into our story. For they are the thirteenth generation, Adam the last soul needed, Calla the last person who can break the curse.