"Tell me what you remember," said the king.

So I did. From the beginning, when I fled the castle the night of the ball, to the end when Blackhill was attacked by the dead. The king listened in a deep silence as I spoke, and I was unsure of what he wanted to hear or what he was listening for. But it all came back to me, as the contents of the vial had promised. And so I told the king all about Adrian too and his curse.

"Answer one question," said Peter, after everything.

I raised my eyebrows.

"What was the sigil on the pommel of his sword?"

I remembered back to the day of the attack, when we were in Blackhill's library and the staff all appeared together to give Adrian's his father's sword. The one with-

"It was a raven," I recalled.

Peter breathed out heavily through his nose. "I saw him today too. He was the champion of the tourney."

"What?"

"If he is the Beast as I've been told, then he is in grave danger."

"We need to find him!" I exclaimed. My heart was breaking as I realized I had just seen Adrian...

"Where did you see him? the king asked.

"He was here," I said frantically. "Not even an hour ago!" I jumped to my feet, my mind racing.

And then I turned to the king. "He's your son, isn't he? Is that what this is all about?"

I gazed into his hazel eyes- Stefan's eyes, Adrian's eyes.

"It was him," Peter said weakly. "He was what I forgot."

"We need to find him," I said again. "Please- I can help him. I'm meant to!"

Just then a blackbird swooped in from the night and perched itself on the windowsill of the king's study.

"Mary!" It squawked.

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally, you come at a time I want to see you."

I went to the window and cautiously outstretched my hand. The bird took a few hesitant steps towards me.

"Tell me," I said to the silent spectator, "can you take us to Adrian?"

Stefan plopped down onto his father's bed in exhaustion, groaning into the pillow like he had once when he was six, though for much a different reason then.

He and Marius had torn his father's quarter's apart looking for the map; it was nowhere to be found. The boys had lost track of time as they searched and the prince's head began to spin.

"I have to stop," he said.

Marius continued to search. "We'll find it," he said with determination.

And to their sudden horror the king himself appeared in the doorway. His mouth hung open as he surveyed the ruins of his room, and then his eyes fell on Stefan.

Stefan froze, Marius froze and for a moment every glanced at each other in confusion.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Stefan jumped up from the bed. "You've hidden the map, father! I know you have!"

"What?!"

"You're keeping it for yourself- I know what you're planning to do- what you've always planned to do. You were going to leave me here and go back to the Land of Magic. Don't deny it!" Stefan was trembling in anger. Marius watched in silent horror.

Peter shook his head slowly. "Is that what this is about? You thought I was going to leave you? I don't even know where the map is! And on top of that- what are you doing out of your bed?"

Stefan gazed at his father defiantly. "I'm leaving. That's what I'm doing."

"No, you're not," Peter thundered, taking a step towards his son. "You're not leaving again. I won't let you abandon hope."

Stefan breathed in and out deeply, and then glanced at Marius. "Tell him."

Marius turned pale white as he looked at the furious king.

"Stefan took a serum to temporarily heal himself so he could save Mary, but in return the serum guarantees death once the poison reaches his heart, even if it's moving slowly... So..." his voice faltered as the king regarded the prince with dumbfounded shock.

"You lied to me," he said.

Stefan had also gone white as he stared at his father. He swallowed, though his mouth was dry.

The king threw a furious glance at Marius. "And you supplied him the serum, didn't you?"

"It was my decision!" Stefan exclaimed. "All my life you've decided everything for me- what I learn, what I do, who I meet-

"I'm choosing this," Stefan said firmly, his voice steady. "It's already done."

Peter grabbed the side of his four poster bed to steady himself. "Stefan... you have a brother. He is in danger. He's- he's counting on us..."

Stefan stared at his father in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

The king felt as if he could faint, so he sat down and put his head in his hands. The boys stared at him in silence.

At last the king found the words he was always meant to say.

"When I was your age I went to the Land of Magic and fell in love with a girl. Even though I wanted to stay there with her I knew I had to return here to fulfill my destiny... to rule... but I went back. And when I returned her sister, the Enchantress, told me she had died. But... there was someone else there she did not tell me about. A boy named Adrian. He is my son, and he is your brother. Right now he is in danger."

Stefan and Marius looked at each other in disbelief.

"You have another son?"

"Yes," said Peter. "And today he was crowned champion of the Beast tournament, though he himself is cursed-"

"What?"

Peter looked at the prince desperately. "He needs us, Stefan. And we need him. You can't leave!"

Stefan took a moment to recover from the news. And then he looked at his father. "You have another son," he repeated. "And so you have an heir... a rightful heir, if what you're telling me is true... so what do you need me for, then?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Peter said angrily. "This isn't about me. He needs our help and we need him- he can make you better, I know he can-"

The prince shook his head. "I've told you I've made up my mind. Let me go, father. I'm not giving you a choice."

Stefan headed towards the door, but suddenly stopped and faced the king.

"You know, the way I look at it is we're both getting what we want. You have an heir and I'm... well, I'm free," said Stefan. And he stormed out of his father's quarters and down through the castle, unsure of where he would end up but allowing his feet to take him forward...

I'm leaving it behind, he thought. This chapter is over.

The ill-fated prince threw off his coat as he made his way down to the village, taking the path through the kingswood so no one could track him. Returning to the castle was out of the question now; if Stefan turned back he would never forgive himself.

He headed for the village. He discarded all items of clothing-besides his sword- that distinguished him as royalty. Stefan decided that this was the last night he'd ever be a prince.

The suffering he felt was electrifying. With so much pain driving him towards an inevitable end, he walked among the cobble-stoned streets of the quiet village with nowhere in particular in mind to go. The moon was now peeking out through heavily compressed clouds, lighting many paths that he could follow…but it happened to be a distant sound, musical in nature, that he gravitated towards.

Stefan traversed past the empty houses of the working class while clutching his shoulder in agony, heading towards the center of the village. There seemed to be nowhere else to go. Whatever tune was playing in the distance, he felt that moving towards it decreased the pain he was in.

He stopped in front of a tavern buzzing with villagers who weren't invited to the celebration at the castle. The regular folks. There was no doubt music coming from the inside, wafting into the street like magic. Stefan made his way past the rowdy bunch of drinkers in the doorway and found a lone empty table inside, the rest of the seating filled with people chattering loudly about the earlier tourney. No one would recognize him to be the prince here. He was no longer a prince anyway. All the money he had left fit into his pocket, so he ordered a drink.

"Your father was right," said a voice from beside him.

Stefan had not realized she was there, nor did he know that she was a fairy-though she was his fairy, as he she had once been his father's.

Pandora smiled gently. "Your brother needs you, Stefan."

Is this a dream? Stefan wondered vaguely.

The fairy looked at the prince with sadness. She stared into his hazel eyes, streaked red with pain.

"I can hear the ocean inside of you," the fairy remarked.

For a moment, Stefan could hear it too. The waves lapped against a sandy shore, tumbling in and out beneath the sun-

"I can feel the yearning in your heart... Keep it there, prince. Keep it there for as long as you can. And remember to protect what matters," she said, though her voice seemed to be falling away from him now.

The prince blinked, and the sound of the ocean vanished. The fairy was gone too- had she ever been been there, though?

The tavern had grown louder; someone was giving some sort of speech.

Wait, Stefan thought... he listened closer.

"-Everyone saw it, he cheated, I tell you-"

It was dear old cousin Gaspard's voice...

"-the coward will pay for this-" he was saying.

Stefan threw a careful glance over his shoulder. From where he was sitting, he could see Gaspard behind him, on the other side of the tavern. A group of men were gathering around him before the fireplace. He was rallying, it appeared...

"You saw it, didn't you?"

Gaspard's voice was getting louder as he addressed his many admirers, his persona taking over the tavern. Stefan hovered over his drink with his back turned, sitting in the shadows.

Out of all the places I could've ended up, it just figures that he's here. What is he talking about? Stefan wondered vaguely...

By the time he finished his first drink the pain in his body had lost its edge, and the world became mercifully softer. When the barmaid came over to offer him another drink he requested a pencil and some paper.

Soon enough, Gaspard's voice rang out again.

"And am I not the true winner of the tourney? I was cheated by a coward!"

The crowd that had gathered around him was getting rowdy and they cheered at his every statement.

Stefan focused on the letter he was writing as he finished his second drink.

"The prize and position is still mine to take!" Gaspard continued loudly, "and take it is what I'll do!"

Carefully, Stefan folded the letter and placed it safely in his pocket. And then he ordered a third drink and tuned in to Gaspard's tirade.

"The tourney is not over! I will claim my prize as soon as I find the thief and take back what is mine. I may just even leave him with a pair of working legs, but I will definitely break both of his arms!"

He was crowned champion of the Beast tournament, though he himself is cursed... the king's words returned to Stefan's mind as it suddenly dawned on him.

Your brother needs you, Stefan... the fairy had said.

I have a brother?

"Where do skinny villains go in the night?" Gaspard asked loudly, laughing. "I'm going to find him and beat his pretty little head to a pulp."

The prince stood. He calmly set down his emptied cup.

"I'd bet he's on his way up to the feast by now!" one of the men shouted, sloshing his beer onto the table as he spoke. "Dancing his peacock off with the king!"

Stefan gritted his teeth. Though his pain was dulled, he was now intoxicated by the ale and the adrenaline.

Gaspard stepped forward, raising his fist. "Who will join me? We'll take over the Beast Hunt on our own! I will pay back that cheating coward for taking advantage of the king's favor. If it had been a real fight, he would have had his face in the mud before drawing his sword!"

And it was then Stefan realized he needed to protect his brother.

"You!" Stefan stepped forward, his arm extended as he pointed directly at Gaspard, "Face me!

"I'll fight you," the prince declared, striding over to his cousin with his hand on his sword handle, "and then you can shut your mouth about the winner of the tourney being a cheat. I'll prove that not only he beat you fairly, but that I'll do it as well. And then everyone can see whose peacock will be dancing with the king tonight, as soon as I cut yours off and parade it up there myself."

All his life he had wanted to fight Gaspard in a proper fight. You're a prince, his father had told him, not a reckless lordling... But this was it. The time had finally come.

Gaspard narrowed his eyes at the prince as the crowd fell silent at the scene.

"My dear cousin," Gaspard said with a slight smile forming upon his lips. "I thought you were dead?"

Stefan nodded. "Very funny..."

It's the prince, the crowd murmured in hesitant recognition. Stefan kept his eyes locked on his cousin.

"Yes, yes; it's the prince," said Gaspard, slamming his mug down on to the nearest table and covering it in ale. He flexed his muscled arms, though they were laid with bruises from a full day of fighting. "And he wants to give us a show! Double feature tonight, boys!"

The crowd parted wide for them as Gaspard kicked the nearest table over, spilling glass and ale out onto the floor. As soon as he pulled his sword from its scabbard Stefan lunged.

It was all the tavern crowd needed to join in on the fun. Knives and forks began to sail through the air as fights sprung up in every corner, Stefan and Gaspard at the center of the calamity clashing steel. Gaspard immediately took the upper hand as he knocked the prince into a cabinet full of glasses, causing his wounded side to receive the shock. Stefan couldn't help but groan in pain-

"I have never lost a fight," Gaspard growled, reaching for Stefan and seizing him painfully by both shoulders, "and no amount of yellow bellied fools will change that!" His head smashed into Stefan's, and the prince was knocked backwards, seeing stars.

Stefan blindly grabbed for a stool as Gaspard lunged in for another blow, and as the meaty fist came sailing his way, he let the stool fly into his wretched cousin's head. The stool broke, and Gaspard was then no better off than the prince himself.

The tavern keeper, a stout man with a scowl on his face, was yelling at the scene before him, standing on top of the bar with his arms flailing about. One of Gaspard's comrades picked the man up and began shaking him. Gaspard spit out a tooth coated in blood and picked his sword up from the floor. Stefan gritted his teeth against the pain coming from his shoulder and reached for his own. He could feel blood gushing from his nose.

The swords clashed against each other furiously. The pair dueled through the bedlam surrounding, overturning tables and chairs in their wake. Stefan fought a nasty fight, but naturally Gaspard performed even nastier. Neither of them even took notice when three kingsmen entered the tavern with swords drawn.

Suddenly a pair of strong arms seized Stefan from behind and pushed him aside. Lance promptly stepped in between him and Gaspard.

"Stop this!" Lance shouted. "If the king finds about this-"

"-then what?" Gaspard demanded, wiping blood from his chin with the back of his hand. "He's going to arrest us? Stefan started it!"

Stefan placed a trembling hand on his friend's shoulder. "Lance," he said. "I'm dying. Just let me have this one last fight-"

Lance looked at him in disbelief.

Stefan turned to Gaspard. "You won't touch the victor of the tournament. You hear me? You lost, now just accept it or we'll finish this fight once and for all!"

Gaspard seized Stefan's shirt and dragged him forward. "He cheated, cousin. I saw it with my own eyes. He used magic."

The prince shoved Gaspard away from him. "You're out of your mind! This is pathetic!"

The crowd in the tavern was clearing out at the kingsmen's orders. Stefan could see Gaspard's comrades- maybe four or five of them- hovering by the door.

"What do you want us to do?" Lance asked, looking at the prince and waiting for orders.

Stefan shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "Ask my father- I'm leaving. But first find Mary and give this to her." Stefan handed the folded letter to Lance.

Lance took the letter, but he stared at the prince in confusion and shock.

Gaspard walked away without a word, laughing. He and his friends disappeared from the tavern and into the night.

"So... what happens now?" Lance asked.

Stefan breathed a heavy, ragged sigh.

What happens now?

It had never been up to him to decide before, he realized. But right then all the arrows pointed in the same direction.

"I'm going to find my brother," said the prince.

End of part 2.