Chapter Text
Once upon a time in the faraway kingdom of Rattay, there lived an arrogant prince. He had grown up in the grand Pirkstein castle, raised by his uncle in the aftermath of the unfortunate passing of his parents. He was provided with anything and everything a young child could ever dream of wanting and grew to be quite the spoiled little thing, demanding this and that and treating those around him as underlings to be ruled. Though his uncle and tutors tried to instill a sense of decorum and responsibility in the boy, all efforts were staunchly refuted. Once he learned of his inheritance as the prince, he became even more belligerent, constantly sneaking away from his castle to avoid his duties, all the while bemoaning the fact that his uncle had yet to hand over the crown to the rightful heir.
By the time the boy had matured into a young man, the prince had developed a reputation as an immature scoundrel. This knowledge was something which even peasants in the nearby villages were privy to, given his propensity for mischievous excursions among the commoners. The subjects of Rattay dreaded the day Lord Hanush grew too old to continue making excuses for withholding the prince’s inheritance. Nothing good could come from having a witless reprobate on the throne, they whispered among themselves.
The prince’s uncle had oft advised against his reckless antics, warning that one day he would cross the wrong person and face consequences from which his station would not be able to protect him. The young prince had scoffed at the very notion, for who in the kingdom would have the power to bring the future ruler of Rattay to his knees?
And so he continued in his careless romps, embarking on exciting hunts throughout his kingdom, boozing in whichever tavern happened to be closest by, and indulging in wanton fornication with men and women alike.
It was on one such romp that Lord Hanush’s warning words finally came to fruition. The prince met a pretty young woman in a nearby village and, falling into immediate infatuation, spent the better part of a week attempting to woo her. Though she was a local, she and her mother lived out in the woods and away from most villagers, and thus had no idea the true nature hiding behind the prince’s charming front.
Eventually, as it had happened countless times before, the prince tired of the novelty of the young woman’s company. When she confronted him on his sudden coldness, he spurned her in quite a ruthless manner.
It had just been a bit of fun, the prince had informed her. He was surprised, he’d continued, that she had taken it so seriously. Surely, she must know a prince like him would never lower himself to marry a commoner?
Unbeknownst to him, however, the young woman was a witch. She lived with her mother in the woods and had spent years honing her magical talents. With all the rage and fury she could muster in the wake of his cruelty, she cast her retribution upon him.
“So long as the sun shines upon your cursed face, you shall wear the ugliness of your soul. You will never find love from another who mistakes a beast for a man,” said the witch’s daughter, and with that, the curse was laid.
The words had scarcely left her lips when the prince fell writhing to the ground. His screams morphed into animal shrieks as bone snapped and contorted, bursting through flesh and cloth. In moments, where once stood the beautiful prince, a monstrous winged creature now lay hunched and trembling. The prince’s body had sprouted feathers and fur in equal measure, golden like the prince’s hair had been. From a grotesque face protruded a large, fearsome beak. Delicate, noble hands had been replaced by gruesome, gnarled talons, tipped with wickedly sharp claws. Great beastly paws the size of a man’s head and brutish muscled haunches to match had shredded through the prince’s shoes and hose. The final touch to the prince’s horrid transformation was a long, fur-tipped tail, whipping and lashing in savage agitation as the beast came back to its senses.
If the prince had been a man, he would have demanded answers, but the only sounds he could make from his newly-formed beak were those of incoherent, bestial screeching. Unable to speak and unable to bear the burden of his true, monstrous form, the prince fled. Many a villager bore witness to a great beast of legend, rampaging through the streets with shrill caterwauls, before barely managing to take flight and disappearing like a drunken bird into the nearby forest.
The witch’s daughter returned to her mother that night, freshly vindicated and satisfied with her revenge. A few peaceful days passed until, in the dead of night, there was an urgent and frantic banging at the door of their small hut. When the witch roused and went to greet their inconsiderate visitor, she was surprised to be met with the sight of a young man wearing ragged, torn clothes, covered in dirt and leaves and heaving laborious, gasping breaths. When her daughter emerged from her room, the witch learned of what her child had done. The young prince, having spent days hidden in the woods as a monster and nights desperately wandering in his human form searching for a solution to his tribulations, begged the witch and her daughter to lift the curse. He prostrated himself before the witch’s daughter, shaking and pleading for her forgiveness and mercy. He had learned his lesson, he promised, and never would he treat another with such callousness as he had her.
Upon bearing witness to the prince’s pathetic weeping, the witch’s daughter felt pity. She saw him no longer as a cruel monster, only as a sorry wretch who had been careless with the hearts of others out of self-centeredness rather than outright malice. Her mother, shocked and disappointed that her daughter had used her gift to harm rather than heal, urged her to have grace, and, after some hesitation, the daughter agreed. Relieved and hopeful, the prince sat up and asked how soon the curse would be lifted, only to be met with twin expressions of resignation.
Once a curse had been laid, it could not be lifted, only broken, the witch explained to him, sadness in her voice. The prince’s curse would come to an end only if he found love from another, despite his beastly nature.
At that, the prince fell silent, crestfallen. His hope that his life would return to normal had been mercilessly crushed. For he realized now, after so many days reflecting upon his character, that none had ever truly cared for him when he appeared a handsome, charming prince. So how could he hope that someone would fall in love with him now, when his appearance matched the rotten core of his soul?
Instead, the prince asked only to be hidden away, never to be found, so that he could at least conceal the shame of his true nature forever.
With some reluctance, the witch and her daughter agreed to help obscure the prince’s location. They enchanted a pocket of the forest, where the ruins of an ancient castle lay hidden among the dense trees. Anyone other than the prince travelling through would find themselves irrevocably lost and inevitably turned right back around the way they came. The prince thanked them and promised to leave them alone before he disappeared once more into the night, seeking the new home of his exile.
News of the prince’s disappearance spread like wildfire. Villagers who had witnessed the beast’s wanton destruction in the wake of the prince’s transformation claimed that the prince had been kidnapped, taken by the monster who had escaped into the woods. When Lord Hanush heard of the fate that had befallen his nephew, he demanded an immediate search. Patrols from the Rattay guard were sent out to the nearby forests, but no trace of monster nor prince came of the efforts. Desperate to see the safe return of the nephew whom he had raised as a son, Lord Hanush issued a final decree: a handsome reward, in exchange for the prince’s rescue or the head of the creature that had taken him.
Knights and mercenaries of all sorts travelled from far and wide to Rattay, eagerly seeking to succeed where others had failed. But months passed, and hope waned. It seemed that Rattay had seen the last of their lost heir, and though some mourned, many more were relieved that at least a more responsible ruler might end up taking the throne.
And it was in this moment of resignation and uncertainty that this story truly began.