Once upon a time…
Offering Glade ~ Night of the Winter Blood Moon
Fitzyna
The day is fading over the glade that finally appears before me. With the biting cold and the long walk, my old bones and weary joints ache painfully. I shiver all over, my breath forming thick white plumes. But my mind is serene.
My resolve is firm and unbroken. Tonight will be the last.
Beneath my shawl, Mystigriffe is still nestled against my hump. His familiar weight and animal warmth calm my racing heart. This scruffy cat with his ragged fur sleeps peacefully, lulled by the gentle sway of my limping steps. He seems far removed from the thoughts filling my mind.
The bare trees fall away on either side of the forest path. The twilight sky is now tinged with fiery reds and pinks, a tide of blood against deepening darkness.
The Blood Moon will soon rise behind the mountain range bordering this part of the territory. Clinging to its steep flanks like sharp, pointed teeth stands the castle of King Korwyn the Cursed — vast, white, magnificent, majestic… and empty.
Only the Beast is still truly present, appearing with every Blood Moon, at each of the four solstices. And tonight is her hour. And soon, mine.
I approach the livestock tied to the sacrificial posts, left there to satisfy the Beast’s insatiable hunger. With my frozen fingers, I take my knife and cut each tether with a firm stroke. A quick slap on the rump sends each animal fleeing into the forest in search of fleeting freedom.
There is only me now. Only us.
My dear companion begins to wake, yawning wide enough to dislocate his jaw. He stretches his back into a perfect arch. Still perched on my deformed shoulder, he starts grooming himself, indifferent to the world around us.
And yet.
A first bestial howl tears through the night. It shatters his nonchalant air. Mysti stands up, tense, ears pricked forward, and hisses.
-“This is the time to say goodbye, my dear Mysti. Go. You don’t have to come with me.”
As if he understood my trembling words, he leaps to the ground and dashes into the forest. He vanishes.
And now I am alone.
I sit on an overturned log near the empty posts. I gaze at the sky, now ink-black, empty of clouds, studded with stars and bathed in the shimmering red of the Blood Moon. The cold bites deep. I shiver again. My stiff muscles are numb. Courage, my Zyna… It will soon be over…
A new howl. Bestial, deep, closer. Much closer.
My heart quickens. My hands tremble a little more on the pommel of my cane. But my mind is clear. This life… this far too long life… of hardship, sacrifice, rejection, and invisibility. It ends beautifully.
I breathe in deeply. The cold burns my lungs. I savor these final moments.
Behind the wind, I hear branches cracking, foliage rustling. The sounds draw nearer. Something large. Precise. Relentless.
Then I see them. Those two incandescent, piercing red orbs at the edge of the forest. And I hear it. That low, dangerous, hungry growl. It vibrates deep inside my lungs.
The Beast…
She emerges from the woods. Her growing shadow stretches toward me. She approaches, slowly, terrifying. Her burning breath sends waves of heat toward me. Her steel muscles tense beneath her dark fur with every step. She is a hypnotic blend of raw human strength and wild lupine elegance.
I feel feverish. So many things are said about the Beast… None of them do her justice.
Her ardent gaze locks onto me, piercing me. She advances. Aggressive. Fatal. Step by step. With such intensity that time itself seems to freeze beneath her paws.
She crouches. Prepares to leap.
I smile. Melancholy for this far too long life. It is finally over… I will be able to find you again…
And as I close my eyes… Once upon a time, in a kingdom without a King…
Once upon a time…
A new invitation to a journey…
A few words sprinkled with magic to escape far from here into a wonderful land of Princes and Princesses, Kings and Queens, Mages and Sorceresses, or any other fantastical being sprung straight from our imagination.
But this new tale, these few pages turned at random, do not lead this time to an enchanted land with its great and beautiful wondrous forest.
There are no elves or korrigans, no goblins or other fairies to guide your steps and your dreams toward a gentle and lovely realm.
This new epic is told in hushed voices, in the secret of tightly shuttered cottages.
It speaks of darker beings and legends with wounded hearts and stolen hopes.
For even if the story begins in light and glory, choices made in fear have gently slid the light into shadow, joy into pain, happiness into indifference.
Here, everything begins in the distant, secluded lands of Alvion, long, long ago, well before the ages of this tale.
The heroic songs whisper that a young and strong warrior single-handedly repelled a terrible threat that came from the north across the raging seas.
Godslayer to some, Master of the Beast to others, each had their own story and certainties.
But the truth has been lost in the depths of passing time.
From his legend was born a King of eternal youth and beauty, Master of a Beast of absolute strength.
The savior King freed these lands ravaged by war. He became the hero of a desperate people.
It is told that a Beast was always at his side, his implacable weapon, his unshakeable shield.
He was a just and wise King, loved and admired by all.
She was the guardian of the forests and the borders, blessed and welcomed at every encounter.
But the wise will say that from eternity is sometimes also born sadness and bitterness. And what was once beautiful and luminous eventually sank inexorably into the grayness of shattered illusions.
The story became legend, and the legend sank into oblivion.
The King was still there, secluded in his castle of light and alabaster, still a powerful symbol of power.
But their hearts of flesh and stone were empty, mere vessels for the ghosts of an epic glory long past.
As for the Beast, she was now nothing more than the devouring shadow of the Blood Nights, the monster incarnate in the stories told to children in the evening so they would behave.
Yet life went on as if nothing had happened, ignorant of the hidden tragedies.
The people continued on their way. They had forgotten the glory of shattered shields and victorious swords. They had buried the simple and sincere joy of loving their sovereign.
They lived in the shadow of his name without ever approaching him.
But above all, they moved forward in the renewed fear of one day crossing the path of the unleashed Beast.
And it is thus that the true story begins… That of a rejected old woman, a bloodthirsty Beast, and a forgotten King.
Do you feel ready?
Then… Once upon a time… in a kingdom without a King, plagued by a savage Beast, a tired old woman was already busying herself in front of her stoves…
