Chilled rain fell softly on the palace grounds. Summer was dead, autumn was aging quickly, and a dreadfully gloomy winter was being born. Adam, now a buff lad of fifteen and reigning monarch of France, was sitting in the West Wing. He looked out over the gray and barren land in a critiquing way. His face seemed to reflect the weather's coldness. Over the past two years, he changed from a mischievous boy to a bitter tyrant. He did not care if he frightened everyone in the castle; his harsh behavior was just his way of venting his pain. Adam's heart ached when he thought about how he had pushed Chip away from him. He tried to reach out to his friend, but their conversations always ended with Adam becoming enraged. As he thought about his now-dreary life, Adam sank into his high-back chair and looked around the room. He had everything: servants, money, power, and the ability to say one word and everyone obeyed his biding. "Then why do I feel so empty?" Ever since his parents' death, Adam felt emotionless and numb.

"Sire?"

"Yes, General Vicenti? Have you pleasing news for your king?"

A tall young man stood in the doorway. Afraid to come near his commanding prince (he would not think of him as his king), Vicenti did not enter the room. Even though Vicenti was only twenty-years-old, he knew that Prince Adam was not running his kingdom well. But still, a reigning monarch deserves respect, and Vicenti had to choose to respect Adam. "Yes, my king. The enemy kingdom has been found."

A fiery boldness sparked into Adam's deep brown eyes. "The enemy. My enemy. Found." Adam momentarily reveled in morbid satisfaction. Clearing his throat, he barked, "Assemble the men. We march now."

"But, your highness, the men. I mean, sir, dawn has not even arrived." Vicenti's stomach churned as he thought of how angry the soldiers would be when they were awoken this early. Adam, a very persistent leader, soon forcibly convinced his general to prepare the men for battle. Soon, seventy-five men were marching on foot and horse across the French terrain. Hooves sloshed through mud and leather-clad soles stealthily maneuvered through tall grasses. Adam led his men, still on the back of faithful Antoinette, but stopped them short when they came upon a peaceful river. Adam raised his hand and slowly lowered his fist to the ground, signaling his men to be quite and stealthy. Vicenti slinked up to his commander pointing to a clearing in the dense forest." Right over there, sir. That is the fairy homeland. We are sure this is where the assassins live. Our spies have informed us that they are under the direct employment of the fairy queen, Queen Jezé. So our objective, if I am not mistaken, is to capture the queen and kill her minions?"

"No. Kill the entire race. Why risk another assassin being born? I do not want to hear or see any captives, General, only corpses. Let our swords and the ground on which we stand be stained red with the blood of our victims! Let the air be fouled with the rank aroma of burning flesh."

________________

Screams. Fire. Blood. Murder. Horses. Men. Swords. Fire. Destruction. Screams. Blood. Murder. Rage. Revenge. Fire. Blood.

Death!

A young fairy maiden, Sabella Rose, ran along the bumpy stone streets of her woodland home. The heavy soot that hung in the air blackened her cloth dress. Sabella's blush red wings drooped pitifully on the ground, becoming a tripping hazard for the frightened girl. Her feet ached and her head hurt. She wanted to stop, fall down, and embrace the deadly fate that was consuming everything around her, but she held onto the need for survival that drove her forward.

Men, human men from an unknown location, had come and were ransacking the town. Pyres burned everywhere and, from all directions, screams could be heard. Smoke could be smelt as it filled the air ominously. Her mother had woken Sabella Rose from ambrosial sleep; now they were running for their lives. As Sabella ran, she recognized the bloody bodies of companions tossed on the sides of the road. Some were dead and the rest were dying, crying for mercy and help. Women wept over the bodies of their fallen husbands, their own tears cut short by a blade through the back. Children wandered around, lost and frightened, but they were put to an end no sooner than they cried out for their parents.

The loss in population was already enough to cripple any civilization, but the men still ran around, killing everyone and everything. They took no prisoners, only spoil and treasure from their victims' houses. There was one man that did not kill; he slaughtered. At first, he stayed on his horse and commanded his men, but then he became overcome with the need for blood himself. Sabella was about to dwell on her hatred for the man, but something distracted her.

"Mama, your wings!"

Enchantress, mother of Sabella Rose, turned to look at her once-beautiful wings. Somehow the lacy membrane had become a resting place for a few wandering embers that were turning the wings into black ash. "Never mind, Sabella. Just keep running!"

The cobblestone pathways soon became dirt as Enchantress and her daughter ran into the woods. Sabella Rose's feet became very heavy, and she continued to stumble over her sagging wings. Her copper hair, caked in dust, veiled her face. Soot landed upon her rich eyelashes and burrowed into her eyes, agitating them greatly. For being only thirteen summers old, Sabella had carried herself wonderfully; now her legs would not continue. "Mama, I can't . . . I can't do this anymore."

The fairy cradled her daughter, while frantically looking for a safe dwelling. Thirty yards away there was a small hole, covered mostly by large boulders, which was a perfect place to stash a treasured item. "There," Enchantress pointed, "Can you make that far, my dear?" Sabella Rose feebly nodded her head. Halfway there, the twosome heard the oncoming trampling of hooves. They could hear only one horse, but the rider's deranged cries of war alerted them to the danger that was approaching quickly. They reached the hole, and Sabella climbed down. "Mama, this is an awfully small hole. Can you fit?"

Tears illuminated Enchantress' eyes. "No, my dear. This is the last night for the fairy race to live. I am more than willing to die, so that you might survive. But you cannot go through life as a fairy, or you will surely be killed. I hereby bind your distinguishing traits and powers, only to be unlocked when our pursuing enemy sincerely changes his heart." With that, she kissed her daughter's sooty forehead one last time and rushed off to meet her attacker. As Sabella Rose viewed her mother's retreating frame, she felt herself fall into a much yearned for sleep.

_________________

Adam drove Antoinette like mad, steering her onward, barely avoiding the trees. He had seen two fairies dash into the forest, and he pursued for the kill. He saw a green-cloaked figure up ahead. "Hyah! Faster, noble mare." Adam planned to trample the lady down, but as he neared, Antoinette stopped. The fairy's outstretched hand seemed to take control over the horse. Antoinette reared and her master fell to the ground, incredibly vexed. Adam leapt up and drew his sword, wobbling slightly from the fall like a drunken man.

"Consider your actions, boy. Once you commit a crime, you cannot undo your actions. I, Enchantress, have seen the results your actions will cause. Let me be, and I shall grant you peace."

"Peace?! I haven't seen one drop of peace since my parents . . . Why should I let you live?"

"I can be of much help to you and your kingdom."

"I don't need help from a peasant, especially a fairy peasant."

"You judge me by my sooty rags? You are responsible for the smoke and ash that so rests on these clothes! Oh, Adam, your heart is as cold as stone. Are you pleased living a life filled with hate? Is that something your parents would have wanted?"

"Enough. Do not mention my parents again!" The young prince tightened his grasp on the hilt of his sword.

"Why? Because the memories you have of your parents hold the last ounce of love in your heart? A love that your hate wishes to crush?" Enchantress' arms became very animated as she talked, gesturing and flailing her arms at invisible things.

"Enough."

"Get rid of this darkness in your heart, Prince Adam! Regain the love your parents showed you. Be human again, instead of this beastly monster you've become!" Enchantress drew closer to the prince, her arms outstretched like a mother yearning to draw her wayward son close.

"I said enough!" With speed and fury, Adam thrust his sword into Enchantress' abdomen, ripping through dress and skin. Murky blood poured from the fairy's fatal wound. Enchantress crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. She feebly raised her hand and grasped the hem of Adam's garment, pulling the prince down to her level. After placing a tiny package in his breast pocket, Enchantress looked straight into the boy's eyes and saw an inner reflection of confusion, anger, and fear. She smiled, feeling overcome by pity for the boy and peace about what was going to happen. Taking a shaky breath, Enchantress breathed out her final prophecy.

"Your hatful heart, now . . . reflected on your castle's walls . . . everyone will see . . . until you have made right the wrong, into a Beast you shall forever be." Crumpling back down onto the ground, Enchantress tilted her head back towards the hole where she had laid down her secret treasure. With her vision starting to fade, the fairy whispered, "I love you," to her baby one last time. She tried to turn her head back to Adam, but found that her muscles were already starting to freeze and contract. At least she would die staring at where her daughter lay invisibly, rather than gazing upon her monstrous destructor. Smiling again, Enchantress breathed out for her last time. Adam stood still as he watched the life drain out of the fairy. He felt little guilt or remorse over her; he was a warrior and ridding the world of his enemies was part of the job. However, as Adam recalled the woman's last words his eyes widened with fear. He had been cursed!