Evermore

In Loving memory of my grandfather, who always believed in me.

Seven years prior.

“Young Dauphin, I beg your pardon, but might I still have a moment of your time?” Her voice cracked making her French accent hard to decipher.

After every pause she’d wheeze with each strained breath, all visible in the frigid air before her. She was old and quite frail, the lines on her face had been made apparent about forty or so years ago, and no color, other than white, was left in her thin hair.

“I regret to inform you, Madame, but you’ve come much too late, and the hours for receiving guests have long ended.” The young Prince knew better than to have even opened the door himself, yet she had been knocking for ages and none of the servants had answered the door.

The old woman stood there looking at him with sorrow filled eyes, wet with tears of exhaustion and disappointment. This ate at Prince Leroux’s heart, and he started to feel guilty for turning the old woman away after she had come so far.

“However, seeing as you have made quite the journey up the mountain to come wish me a joyful birthday. And in such harsh conditions while at the age you are, I feel as if I must allow you a swift audience in thanks of your efforts.” Prince Leroux smiled, then added, “Just this once though.”

The young Prince was newly fourteen at the time, a smart and strapping young man with much room to grow. His Father, the Emperor of Great Europe, which consisted of the newly conquered England, Scotland, Ireland, France and surrounding countries, had bestowed upon him the title of Grand Prince of France and the Prince of Great Europe until his twenty first had come to pass, then he would have ascended to the French throne, becoming the King of France.

His father placed him in a castle of his own, which was supported by a small developing town by the name of Du Ciel. In turn was his to rule over the town as he would France in the future, all while creating a new capitol after the previous one had been destroyed in the great war that assimilated all of Europe. This was all in hopes of teaching him the fundamentals of being a Monarch, or at least that was what the emperor had told the public.

“It is quite late for you to be out, Madame, this weather must be wearing on your health. Please, step inside.” He stepped aside to make room for her then motioned for her to enter. Unlike his father, the prince was kind and sometimes a little too understanding, qualities that many viewed as nothing more than weakness.

“Oh, no my Dauphin. This snow has no effect on me after all these years of living in it. Even so, I could not let that stop me from coming here, and miss the chance to give you this offering, this gift.” The old woman took a breath, then smiled. “However, upon accepting this boon you must do as I ask of you without hesitation.”

“Boon?” Prince Leroux cocked his head to the side in a questioning sort of way, “You couldn’t mean. . .” A mountain of emotions all mixed together started to rise within him once he realized what she had meant. “Witchcraft is forbidden in the Empire.” He was stern, trying not to show his uncertainty in how he should handle the situation. Not only was he ill-informed in regard to the topic of witchcraft, but he also was skeptical of its existence outside of tall tales even despite his father’s obsession with it and endless paranoia.

She watched him for a moment, in turn making him more uncomfortable than he already had been. The hollowness in her eyes pierced through him, chilling him to the bone worse than the frigid mountain wind ever could.

“I can make you strong, fast, and everlasting little Dauphin.” She coaxed. He watched as she reached into her coat only to reveal a single black rose clutched in her shriveled old hand. “On one condition.”

“One condition?” He repeated then paused, carefully considering what she offered.

He was still quite young and with youth came ignorance, which was common knowledge, and to anyone else it would have been clear that she had intended to use that to her benefit.

“What is the one thing that you would request of me, if I might ask?” There was no harm in asking, he thought, and decided he couldn’t walk away without hearing the woman out completely. After all, she was rather enticing with the way she carefully went about her words, almost like luring a child with sweets.

“All you would have to do is kill your father, the Great Emperor.” Her face was completely serious, and she gave no indication that she was joking.

A thick eerie fog of terror slowly began to envelop him, making the young prince nauseous as her words sunk in. He started to regret his kindness, wishing that he had let her continue beating on the door instead of entertaining such madness and on his birthday no less.

“I beg your pardon?” He looked at her appalled. “Have you gone mad from being out in the cold too long? Have you no idea what you have just done? Old woman, you are lucky I don’t have you beheaded for threatening the life of the emperor. Treason is a crime punishable by death and I believe you should take this chance to leave, Madame, before I change my mind.” The young Prince quickly slammed the door shut before she could reply, then took several deep breaths to calm himself. He wanted to believe she was delirious from her old age and once again let his kindness overshadow caution.

As he turned to walk away there was a knocking at the door once more. Now anger had begun to bubble up within him and he had grown tired of this ridiculous exchange.

“I will call the guards if you do not-” The door flew open without warning, cutting him off as he stumbled back a few steps.

She let out a crunchy cackle as she appeared in the open doorway, face contorted into a wicked smile. “So, it seems you have chosen to resist.”

He could not speak, the sheer might that it would have taken for such a feeble old woman to throw open thick, eight-foot tall, wooden doors was impossible. Yet, he had just witnessed it with his own two eyes. His body had grown rigid as he was paralyzed with fear, refusing to flee no matter how hard his mind begged it to.

“I suppose, a large part of me had hoped you would have refused, that you would have made this more enjoyable on my part.” Her voice had started to become smoother, “It is too bad that you bare no resemblance to that deceptive worm of a man you call father. I would have liked to chance to pretend I was torturing him instead. But that is no matter, using his only heir against him will do just fine.”

The old woman was no longer old as her disguise had started to slowly melt away, in turn revealing her true form. He was stunned, not only by the use of magic, the likes of which he had never seen nor heard of before, but also by her appearance.

Her pale grey hair was blown about behind her by the crisp winter wind, while her amber eyes blazed like two little suns in the dimly lit night. The witch’s face was made up of sharp symmetrical edges and an ebony dress plated with jagged metal clung to every single one of her body’s dips and curves. All accented by her dark fur cloak that billowed behind her in the frigid mountain wind. Jagged metal nails that were connected to her metal plated fingers adorned her right hand and in her left, she clutched the black rose from before. Her beauty combined with the intensity of the wicked expression on her face made her not only intimidating, but rather alluring.

“I am known as Morana to some, even deemed the Goddess of winter and death in the northern most parts of the mortal world. I have lived many lifetimes, seen many moons and instigated many wars. You see, your father, the bravest and most foolish man I have ever met, wronged me to get the very crown that sits upon that treacherous head of his. But by the look upon your fat little face, I dare say you had no clue that the empire, which is to be passed to you, is not yours after all. How delightful.” Her voice was stronger yet more drawn out in a smooth sort of way, though her tone was rather condescending. “Poor little Dauphin, did daddy never explain to you how dark the world truly is? Well, sweet child, this is why you do not mettle with things beyond your limited knowledge and understanding. The risks always outweigh the rewards." She licked her lips, short fangs glistening in the warm glow of the candles. "No matter how innocent you are in the scope of things, someone needs to right your father's wrongs. So, as I see it, the sins of the father are the sins of the whole lineage. And since I cannot kill him myself, you will have to do it for me.”

“I did not mean t-to offend, I-I just, it was. . .” the young Prince fumbled over his words as if his tongue was trying to flee his mouth. He was shaken to his core as the witch’s scowl froze him in place. His father never told him such things truly existed in their world, nor the misdeeds of his past that could have threatened their entire Empire, let alone his life. In the end, his father left him painfully ignorant and vastly under prepared as if he didn’t care for his well-being at all.

“Oh, child, do not flatter yourself. You have not vexed me nor offended; you are just a means to an end." She rolled her amber eyes at him. "Do let us get on with it now. I believe I’ve explained enough about why this and why that out of pity and you should somewhat grasp why this is happening, and if not, that is of no consequence to me.” She grinned, flashing him a better glimpse of the fangs he had seen before. “Back to that boon I had offered, I will not only be placing it upon you, but your quaint little town as well.” She snatched him closer by grabbing his face with her clawed hand and dug her metal razor-like nails into his skin. She squeezed hard, and forced his mouth open without issue. He tried to yank away but her grip tightened, and she hissed through gritted teeth, “This would be much less painful if you would just quit resisting.”

He wiggled, but her grasp was too firm and every time he moved her nails would rip further into his face. Her eyes began to glow as she muttered something in a language, too fast for him to recognize, then pulled out, seemingly from nowhere, a goblet full of a dark liquid and held it to his mouth while she chanted, “With this blood you shall become inhuman, with this blood you are cursed; With this blood you will slowly transform, and shall you be ruled by thirst; With this blood you will slowly transform and be whole by your twenty first.”

She poured the blood into his mouth and forced him to swallow. The young Prince was bloody as she released her hold on him, allowing his body to drop to the ground as he begun to writhe in pain. She threw the black rose on to him and laughed before she started to turn around. “Take this as a reminder that on your twenty first birthday the beast I have put inside of you will fully emerge and become all that you are. Until then, I am only a scream away if you change your mind, though do not count on me arriving every single time you want to beg me to return you to who you once were.”

She paused for a moment, then grinned mischievously.

“However, I suppose I could give you the benefit of the doubt since you are just a victim in all of this.” She clicked her tongue, “Let’s say, if you can find someone to love you and you them before the beast completely takes you over, the curse will end, and you will revert back to who you once were.” The way she smiled at him was not one out of benevolence, but one of a wicked nature. Yet, in the long run those words would have stuck with him and gave him hope where there should have been none.

Then before she disappeared into the cold night, she added, “That is, if you do not eat them first.”

Her laugh rang in his ears while, what felt like, fire rushed through his veins. The pain in his mouth was excruciating, as was the feeling that his bones were rearranging themselves. Agony had wrapped her hands around him, and it seemed like she was never going to let go. The last thing he saw before the world grew dark was the ebony rose that she had left him, a token of her thanks and a haunting reminder of the gift that she had bestowed upon him.