Chapter Text
"Storms are the poetry of earth. The intensity, the emotion, the honesty, the music. The language of darkness and light."
- Victoria Erickson.
Once upon a time, in the hidden heart of France...
Dark shades of blue and grey painted the sky as drops of water poured down. The sun had long gone and the shining moon took it's place. Regardless being a sunny day that morning, noon, and afternoon, a storm was starting to form.
Deep red painted roses stood proudly–circling de castle like a fancy barrier. Wet bushes from the rain rustled between each other, spilling drops of rain water under them–puddles.
The wretched shadows lingered in the castle, stopping only by a whisker of the light that emerged inside the castle–most likely candles being lit– which chased curiosity.
Curiosity isn't a good thing.
Alastor Hartfelt, a young selfish prince was enjoying the night. He was dancing troughout the whole room, switching constantly between dancing partners, swaying with grace every step he took. The smile posed on his lips never falling.
At least, that was a cover of his true self.
But no one needs to know that, right?
As light and joy filled the air, the chanters of the singers got interrupted by a sound coming from outside the castle in the storm. Three long piercing knocks echoed around the ballroom.
Knock,
Knock,
Knock.
'How peculiar' The prince thought, who could possibly visit at the current hour, in the middle of a storm, especially if all the invited guests had arrived?
The door abruptly opened, revealing a short figure wearing a cape. The figure walked closer–slowly, their face was now visible. Wrinkles spread all across their face, tired eyes, that stared intensely, white hair, and feminine features.
'An old lady?' Alastor chuckled.
"Oh my, what an unpleasant surprise!" The lady's eyes twitched, "Is there anything you might need, madam?" He said with a hint of theatrics that made some of the crowd laugh–a bit though–.
The old lady hesitated, before answering. "Well, your majesty. You see, the storm outside is freezing and bitter. All I'm looking for is shelter, somewhere warm."
As a gift, she offered a single deep red rose. Most likely from the garden outside the castle.
"Pfft- Oh!" A piercing laugh that was soon followed by the crowd's started sounding.
Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince turned the woman away.
But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances... For beauty is found within.
Her eyes tightened and a smirk slowly began to rise.
When he dismissed her again, the old woman's outer appearance melted away, to reveal a beautiful enchantress. Her short white-haired close to silver seemed to shine by the light she was radiating while ascending just a few feet from the ground.
Her dirty cape flew away by the wind and a silk dress replaced it instead.
She pointed one finger towards the prince, her brow lifting as if daring him to speak.
The prince fell on his knees to the floor, reaching his hands as if hoping for pity.
The prince begged desperately forgiveness, voice shaking. But it was already too late.
For she had seen that there was no love in his heart.
As punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast. A horrifying creature, with teeth sharp as blades, staring eyes that could pierce trough your soul, and a tremendous body filled with red fur in any spot you could imagine. Antlers grew on top of his –now filled with fur–head; hands turning into something between claws and paws.
The enchantress placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there. Turning them into magical talking objects instead of humans.
...
As days bled into years, endless nights passed, the prince and his servants were forgotten by the world, for the enchantress had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they loved.
But the rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose...
If he could learn to love another and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell, the spell would be broken.
If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time.
...
As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope.
For who could ever learn to love a beast?