Chapter Four:
''What big eyes you have!'
.
.
.
'Who goes there?'
'It's your grand-daughter and her escort,' replied the huntsman from behind the crooked door of a homely-looking cottage, 'she is bringing cake and wine, open the door.'
'Lift the latch,' called out the grandmother, 'I am too weak, and cannot get up.'
The huntsman did as told. The door sprang open and the little lady hurried inside, wasting no time to empty her basket on top of a small table by the window.
In the opposite side of the room, tucked in from head to toe under layers of colorful blankets, the grandmother laid; But her flowery nightcap peeking out from beneath the covers.
With the table set, the girl turned to the huntsman: 'Dearest Mr. Huntsman, would you help grandmother to the table for me?'
And the huntsman walked over to do just so.
… But as he lifted the covers he found no old lady in a matching flowery gown. Instead there laid a familiar, decaying, grand white wolf; its nude form pitifully pink and wrinkled, the nightcap strapped around an once mighty jaw.
'What trickery is this?!' outburst the huntsman towards the little lady in red, who's sweet smile and dimples had darkened and vanished.
Suddenly, the cottage cried and whined and tilted to the side as the wooden boards beneath their feet snapped and discolored; it's entire foundation rotting in haste.
'You,' the girl spoke, 'You who took it upon yourself to take a life that wasn't yours to take.
You, who robbed us and our home of our Protector - Leaving us to wither by the hands of man.
... How do you plead?'
But the huntsman did not listen. 'You're a sorceress?!' Fearing for his life, the huntsman quickly pulled out his rifle – hesitating but for a moment as he aimed it towards the child – and shot. The bullet passed right through as if she had been made out of smoke.
'Guily, guilty, guilty,' chanted the girl as she loosened the string that fastened her velvety red riding hood around her neck. The hood left her shoulders. It flew through the air as if carried by the wind and expanded before swallowing the huntsman whole. Angry red cloth wrapped around his body tightly.
'Here, in this very forest, you will redeem your sins. Replace the one that you took from us. And everything that were once your glory shall now become your arsenal to protect this place. Your new Home.
That is your Curse.'
When the sorceress released the huntsman the first thing he noticed was how all the colors were gone. Without looking back, the cursed huntsman fled, running on all fours out of the forest.
Past the outskirts of the forest, the huntsman tripped on two legs yet again.
Along the main road back to town, he stumbled upon the fair flowergirl picking bluebells into a basket woven out of straw. Relieved and far too eager to warn his beloved of the danger still lurking within the woods, the huntsman hurried to greet her. Too late did he recall his curse, and as husband and wife met eyes, the fair woman paled and fell dead to the ground.
Appaled, the huntsman retreated back into the depths of the woods that had condemned him. Swearing never to return until all of his sins had been duly repented.
And, to this day, the far-famed huntsman dwells in the depth of those woods; serving his sentence beset to him by a vengeful witch for the rest of eternity – dressed in wolf's clothing.
–
"-... During my time, there were two attributes which I was famous for. The first one was being a successful hunter. I was known for tracking and hunting down game regardless of the weather. And then... There was my eyes. Those were my glory."
Leon furrowed his eyebrows. "Your eyes?" He asked.
"They have a strange coloration. Rumors spread quickly about how they were tinted with magic and gave me special sight to help me with my hunting. Like seeing through trees or even tell the future. It was horseshit, of course, but I let people believe what they wanted to. It brought plenty of work my way."
"Magic? Now you got me curious," said Leon quietly, more to himself than anything. But The Wolf heard and shook his head in response.
"Forget it. My eyes are cursed. Anyone who meets them has their heart stop beating," he said; idly re-adjusted the mask covering his face with the palm of his hand and sighed audibly. He was suffering, Leon could tell from his posture. He had gradually slumped in his seat as he went on with his tale, until he had nearly folded into himself at the waist. His hands locked behind his head and pressed against the back of his skull, as if to push the memories back down again.
In truth, The Wolf was ashamed. Now that Leon had learned the truth he felt naked sitting next to him. Each one of his scars and faults uncovered for the younger man to scrutinize.
No doubt, Leon had already heard the stories of his alter ego, Fenrir, and what he did to those who wandered too far into his woods. Whenever a human would enter the woods, the trees would gossip, their whispered warning spreading like water through their roots until it reached The Wolf's ears. If the human kept wandering or worse, carried a weapon, the trees would start to scream, and The Wolf's mind went blank and he would follow the sound blindly. Chasing the intruder back to whence they came or tear them apart between his powerful jaws. Oftentimes, their fate ended up being the latter.
The forest was scared and paranoid and often far too quick to send their guard dog on anyone who trespassed, regardless of size, age or gender. Punishments were always dealt indiscriminately. But for some reason Leon had somehow managed to not alert them. The first time he had entered the woods, the trees had only gossiped curiously. The second time they had welcomed him back.
Because of this, The Wolf wasn't sure Leon fully grasped how truly dangerous he was. He had never been there to witness The Wolf's true colors.
"Leon..." He swallowed against the roughness in his throat, "I'm a monster."
"I'm not afraid," Leon was surprisingly quick to answer. The Wolf frowned behind his mask. This wasn't the reaction he had expected.
"I'm a sinner paying for his crimes. People die because of me. I'm... evil!" He pressed the last part through gritted teeth, waiting for the defining moment where his friend would fear him like everyone else. He knew the truth, how could he not?
But Leon only shook his head. "You keep saying that, but I don't believe it. 'Evil' isn't real."
Despite himself The Wolf relaxed, realizing for the first time how tense he was. Each muscle a hard wire bulging visibly through light skin, and his shoulders raised so high they nearly touched his ears. He sat up properly again and leaned his back against the wall and said with fair disbelief coating his words: "...You're a strange one, Squall Leonhart."
Leon winced. "Squall Leonhart is dead..."
"Yet Leon lives on. Speaking of which, I just told you my story. Don't you owe me yours?"
Leon responded by clearing his throat and said dodgedly, "It's not much of a story. Not compared to yours at least."
"Don't give me that. A deal is a deal, and you never struck me as the kinda man who goes back on his own words," The Wolf taunted.
Leon swallowed. He looked around the room erratically until he found something to focus on; the dancing flame captured within one of the oil lamps on his desk. It's stinging light and movement lent him some comfort.
The sheets shuffled slightly and the sweeping sound of skin rubbing against skin sounded loud in the otherwise silence within the cramped cottage. The buzz of tiny fluttering wings flew past The Wolf's ear, he idly swatted them away, and outside he heard the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore.
Leon took his time answering, but The Wolf never rushed him. He waited patiently, until he heard the man at this side let out a shaky breath, and in that same breath he said: "I am a Sorcerer."
The Wolf only scoffed mithlessly, "So that's why the forest took so kindly to you."
"... Are you disgusted?" Leon's response was immediate and he regretted it just as quickly, yet he couldn't stop himself from adding: "Do you hate me now?"
The Wolf shook his head. "I would be a hypocrite if I did. If you can accept me for what I am then the least that I can do is return the favor."
"... A Sorceress cursed you..."
"Was it you?"
"Of course not!"
"Then why should it matter?"
Leon said nothing but stared wide-eyed at his guest for what couldn't have been more than a minute but, to him, it felt like hours passed them by... The concept of time had never been more lost on him. When he snapped out of it, he cursed himself for acting so childishly. And took a deep breath.
"My mother was a Sorceress..." He started carefully, this time watching The Wolf without wavering, "...or so I've been told. She died shortly after I was born and when she did she passed her powers down to me. I was labelled 'Evil' before I could even form thoughts and opinions of my own...Is it really that strange if I don't mindlessly buy into the concept like everyone else seems to so easily? … Maybe I would of if I too had been offered the chance to be the 'Hero'." Leon snorted at the thought. "... But I realize now that it's not fair to say that a person must be either 'Good' or 'Evil'. A person's virtue isn't that simple that it can be decided by a flip of a coin."
"I agree."
The Wolf leaned into him, lifting his left hand and putting it blindly where he assumed Leon's knee would be. It landed on the back of his hand.
"... Leon... Squall... Sorcerer... It doesn't matter. It doesn't change the fact that I still want to see you, though."
Leon said nothing. His eyes fixed to The Wolf's hand covering his own.
"If you can't come to me, then I will come to you instead. I can't stay for long, though," The Wolf continued and reached up with his other hand to unconciously finger along the chain trapped around his neck. Leon's attention snapped to the movement and he watched The Wolf's fingers intently for a moment as they brushed against the barely visible chain. He followed the tail of the chain as it snaked across the floorboards and vanished through one of the walls as if it wasn't even there.
"... Maybe I can break it," Leon murmured before turning to face The Wolf fully. "... I'm a Sorcerer. If another Sorceress put you under this curse then maybe I can be the one to break it," he pondered and cupped his chin thoughtfully.
Although hidden behind his mask, The Wolf smiled. "I was actually hoping that you would reach that conclusion."
Leon frowned. "I have never practiced my Magic, though. I don't know how long it might take..."
The Wolf's fingers closed around the hand in his, "You're not the only one with an excessive amount of time to spare."