ONCE there lived a
prince, beautiful to behold and a pleasure to know. Except, of course, for
those who dared to oppose him. Prince Emeril had a heart that was solid as gold
and he believed any woman he desired was his to take.
His cruelty was unseen
by his mortal peers.
But the Beasts of nature
could not be fooled by his appearances. A little black bird had been following
Prince Emeril for some time before she happened upon the Unicorn.
“Beware that prince,
Unicorn. He left a princess for dead in the kingdom he comes from…”
The Unicorn thanked the
black bird and took up her watch over the prince. Unicorns could not be fooled
by outward appearances. When he beheld the prince, it was of outward ugliness
he saw. He saw blood on Prince Emeril’s hand as the man stepped down from his
steed before the castle.
“Amethyst,” the Unicorn
spoke to the Princess maiden he guarded. “Do you see that Prince?”
Amethyst, behind her
white veil looked in the distance at the gathering nobility. “Yes, the handsome
one with fair hair?”
“That is the one. Stay
clear of him, Amy. He will bring only heart-break.”
“But he is so comely.
You speak of him as though he is a wolf or a satyr.”
“You are too young to
understand why I must warn you of this man. Please, this once, believe my words
without needing proof.”
The Princess lowered her
head and sighed. “Yes, Unicorn. I will be careful.”
“And keep the veil that
your nursemaid gave you over your face. Do not let him know you.”
Amy gave a nod and
joined the other women at May Day celebration.
There was a feast spread
out for all and Amy sat in the middle as a guest of honor. She and her father
the king were honoring the villagers. Prince Emeril was merely a visitor from a
neighboring land. But the Princess stirred his curiosity the moment he glimpsed
her. Even behind a veil, he could see she was lovely, with cascading dark hair
and fair skin.
“You must be the
Princess Amethyst?” he asked.
He was kind in manner
and this confused Amy greatly. He listened to her thoughts and her stories and he
did not laugh at her when she confessed that she would not partake in any meat
at the banquet.
“I cannot eat animals,”
she explained. It was a thing most suitors chuckled at and the crueler ones
mocked her for being silly. But Emeril seemed to accept this quirk without
hesitation.
Nor did he seem to doubt
her sanity when she mentioned her Unicorn friend. Emeril glanced at the forest
where the white creature stood. The Unicorn stared back at the Prince with
moonlight-colored eyes. But Emeril saw no horn on the beast’s head.
“A strange beast,
Princess. But I see no horn upon his head,” he took her hand gently. “Surely,
you are joking. It seems an odd mix of deer and horse to me.”
“Oh, no, Prince Emeril.
Some people do not see his horn. Some see a white deer when they look at him.
Others, a malnourished albino donkey.”
From afar, the Unicorn scoffed.
How he hated when he was called an ass.
Emeril smirked. “Perhaps
you will come to the bonfire tonight? And bring him with you. I will ask the
others if they see the horn.”
Amy laughed and set a
hand to her chest. “If my father does not forbid it. You shall be there?” she
asked, aware already that she would avoid this event. Even if Emeril seemed
nice, she had faith in the Unicorn’s judgment. Never had the Unicorn’s wisdom
steered her wrong and, whilst surrounded by an enchanted forest, that had
proven invaluable.
“Excellent,” he replied.
“It shall be lovely to see you there…”
Amy was soon called
away, though she allowed the Prince to kiss her hand.
“Do you like him?” one
of her maids asked.
“He is friendly…” was all she could reply, torn
between her loyalty to the Unicorn and her curiosity of the Prince.
The Unicorn could see
behind Emeril’s guise of gentility. Maidens and youths frolicked about the
festival and young Amy remained close to her maids and father. Whenever the
village was given a merry event the white beast tended to hide himself but
today he kept watch over the innocents. Emeril appeared as crimeless as they.
When Amy disappeared into the crowd with the other maidens of the village—they
had decided to include her in a game of throwing food—the Unicorn took the
moment to enter the village itself. Until this point, he had been lingering at
the edge of the forest, languishing in the grass and watching with the black
bird at his side. Now he walked with a slow gait along the cobbled path.
Prince Emeril turned
from conversing with another noble and cocked a brow at the beast.
“The Princess’ friend.
He is friendly, isn’t he?”
He and the other man
laughed. “What is he? Astounding. Not quite a horse, is it?”
Emeril’s companion
reached out to touch the Unicorn but the creature recoiled from him and reared
up. It was a warning noise to stay back, slightly too high to be a neigh. It
was more akin to a whale’s call underwater. Emeril’s companion backed away in
fear but Emeril made a grab for his sword.
“Oh, put that down, will
you? I come to be reasonable with you,” the Unicorn spoke in the language of
Man.
Both men gaped as color
drained from their faces.
“You, Prince Emeril,” he
warned “should not attend that bonfire tonight if you value your blood flowing.
There is a creature in this woods who craves your kind. And better still, the beasts
of this forest love the Princess. She is their friend and friends keep their
own. You would not want to anger them.”
“What witchcraft is
this?” Emeril demanded, putting the sword to the Unicorn’s face.
“Get that thing out of
my face!” He used his horn to knock the sword out of the Prince’s hand. “That
is all, Prince Emeril. Enjoy your festivities.” He grunted and trotted away.
“Mortals…” he scoffed.
2- song of the dark
princess
Emeril had heard the
word “no” throughout his life but never could come to grasp its meaning. And so
he was quite angry when the Princess did not keep her word about the Bonfire.
Other maidens were frolicking about but he had his sights set. Gray eyes
scanned the scene for any sign of Princess Amethyst. Maidens had joined hands
to circle the fire and ring around it. The sight was familiar enough to the
Prince, one he had seen countless times in his own kingdom.
It was not until a
quarter before midnight, as the Bonfire grew to its heights that her figure
arrived. She had traded in her white dress and veil for a black replacements,
as though she were leaving a funeral behind. Her maids were nowhere to be seen.
For a moment, her silhouette played against the fire, statuesque and unnerving.
An odd thing happened
then. Something Emeril had never seen a princess do before.
Amy began to sing, with
no formal announcement.
“What are you doing, my
lady?” he asked.
But her song was sweet
and echoed far and wide.
“Follow me to forests,
sweet,
where only the moon
shall watch us flee,
None shall know but the
trees,
Lift my veil and
freedom’s plea
Shall be but ours and no
one else
Will ever know where
darkness dwells…”
Though he could make no
sense of the lyrics, it was the voice that entranced him. Amy’s arms had begun
to sway in time with her melody. She tiptoed away, barefoot. He was left with
no choice but to follow. Reminded of his youth, that one girl who had escaped
him. It was her voice, he knew it. It
must be. And though this followed no logic, the moment of pursuit saw it as
truth.
It was the very root of
any chase. To capture that escaped captive.
All around them, the
other celebrators had begun to fall asleep.
He followed the darkly
veiled woman into a moonlit forest. Emeril had forgotten that white beast and
his warnings of danger. “Pursue!” was all his mind could allow. He had never
longed to touch something so much. This was a pinnacle of more than lust. It
was longing.
The Princess stood
beneath an old tree. The song had finally faded.
“Amy, your voice… It is
unearthly.”
But when he reached for
her, she held out a hand to stop him. Again she tiptoed away from him. His
blood boiled. “You take me all this way and say no!”
The woman spun around
and lifted her veil. The face was not quite fair. Something was not mortal in
it. Her eyes were the color of blood.
She said nothing but
smiled. Emeril felt a shock as thorns dug into his leg. Impossible things
followed, the vines of the earth growing quickly around him. It was too late
when it dawned on him what was happening. The forest itself turned its powers
against him.
That awful siren of a
woman laughed. She giggled and lifted from the ground with long black wings
that he had not seen until now.
“Perhaps you should tell
the forest that you are not in the mood,” she laughed and winged herself away,
talons and all.
In the distance, that
strange white creature of Amy’s, the “Unicorn,” watched as thorny vines held the
Prince in place and nocturnal laughter surrounded him.
All around, the dome of
night transformed the forest into a landscape that was both familiar and
strange. This land was peopled with creatures usually unseen by Man’s eye.
The Unicorn turned from
the scene and walked away. “I warned him…”
3-the Fairlands
The vines and thorns
that held Prince Emeril in place were not all-powerful, only graceful arms that
forced him to see the world fall into its subconscious. For the Prince that
dream was a nightmare.
He cursed and struggled
against the vines, eventually breaking through one of them and pulling himself
out of their grasp. But by this point, teasing, tiny lights had begun to circle
him. They mocked him and one bit his ear.
Irate with the sprites,
Emeril swung his free hand dashed it against a tree. He brought his hand back
to discover a blackish blood on his fist. This had turned into a night from
hell. It was instinct for him to kick leaves over the dead sprite, which he had
no time to truly examine. He assumed it to be some kind of fairy or demon.
The forest was no longer
the one he had entered while pursuing the Siren. He cursed himself for leaving
behind his weapon. Here something else sprung to life against a tree. The
moonlight had casts Emeril’s shadow on a trunk and that shade moved on its own
accord.
He turned his face away.
Nothing here should be trusted, not even his own eyes. He had not been a
believer of nightmarish tales but he had listened to enough to know better.
The growl and howl of an
animal caused the lost Prince to spin around in the dark. But he could not find
the direction of the noise. The moonlight was eclipsed and a shadow fell on the
mortal man. A clap of thunder and a gust of wind broke any silence the night
once held. Lightning stole the light from his eyes before returning it in a
flash.
A winged figure appeared
before him, with skin the color of green-gold and eyes that seared.
“Murderer!” the
bestial roar returned. Each word boomed as the spectacle spoke. “Thou hast
killed one of the King’s citizens in cold blood! And not in self-defense. Bow
and beg for forgiveness, wretch, and mayhaps there shall be some little mercy!”
“Stand your ground!”
Emeril could not match the creature’s voice in power but he refused to bow.
“You kill one of the
King’s citizens and now you dare to command him! This is my kingdom, moronic buffoon!”
“You may stand twice my
height but do not think I shall back down, demon.”
“Demon? DEMON!?”
The creature’s black wings flapped and lifted him from the ground. “You dare to call the King a demon? I am
FAE! And thy teeth shall be fashioned to a necklace for my daughter, thou
wanton imbecile!”
Emeril felt fear but not
the mortal dread most would experience in this situation. He had rarely felt
true horror.
“Simmer down then,
Fairy. I was led astray by a Siren-wench. My appearance in your kingdom is by
mistake.”
“And so you think this
excuses you from the murder and the crimes you commit. If you weep not in
remorse, you will sob in endless pain. Excuses are dull and useless to the King.
Results. That is the thing he wishes to see.”
“The result shall now be
walking away,” Emeril replied, recovering from his initial shock. He did not
fear fairies. No matter how fearsome or frightful they seemed. Tales he was
told as a child were of tricksters and shape-shifters. There was the occasional
maiden-thief or those that swapped out infants for old and deranged fairies.
But overall, they seemed to be the lighter cousin of the more formidable hell
demons. He turned on the King of Fae and began in the opposite direction.
A hand grasped his hair and,
with one tug, threw the man to the ground. A heavy boot came down on his chest.
“Have you no mortal
dread!” the King demanded. “No
respect for pain and what it may teach.” The boot grinded down into
Emeril’s chest. He felt anger, agitation and a primal need to fight or flee.
But dread? There was still none.
The King’s face seemed
to reflect this knowledge.
“The King first considers
killing, then considers reformation but now he sees what thou truly are. The
Unicorn was correct in his prognosis.”
The King balled a fist
and tugged at the air. The uncontrolled scream echoed throughout the forest as
the fairy uttered his curse.
“Thy touch hath
cursed the women thou cross’d
And so thee shall
likewise be cursed and lost.
In a lake of thine own
tears
Forever afloat without
peer.
Bones twisted to match thy
guise
of kindness and elegant
lies.
White for purity that
thou soaked red,
for rejecting the flame-light
that pain should have shed.”
The King had removed his
foot from Emeril’s chest and the Prince crawled to his knees and grabbed at the
tall fairy’s leg. But a pain shot through Emeril’s spine, causing him to cry
out. The Fairy King looked down upon him with a growl and Emeril’s hands
slipped inch by inch off of his foe. On the ground his back jolted and the rest
of his body shook. The violent spasm rocked him like a doll in the wind. It
felt as though his very bones were breaking.
Such physical pain the
Prince had never known. Even in battle, stabbed and coming so close to death
had not been such a pang. When that first series of spasms stopped he saw on
his hand one white feather. But he felt the rest of his flesh break into goose
bumps before his spine broke.
That distinct snapping
broke through the night.
Bones rearranged themselves.
The process dragged until
he lay inside his own clothing, too small to wear it. The King knelt down
before him and lifted him from the pile of clothing. That is when the Prince
knew he was no longer a man.
The tall fairy held the
white swan and stroked his feathers.
“A cursed prince. A
twist indeed,” the King marveled. “I think I will leave thee at an enchanted
lake. If thou attempts to fly off, the pangs you inflicted upon maids shall
be…thine own.”
4- the legend of the
dreaded swan
That is the story of how
the rotten-hearted prince became an enchanted swan. The timeless swan maidens
and youths have always existed. But Zeus had not been trapped within his
treacherous guise. And so Emeril’s fate was unique among the swans. The legend
says that by night he sometimes becomes part man again and he is a danger for
maidens to visit.
When the Unicorn heard
of the new legend he visited the lake to see for himself.
A swan floated towards
him, leering.
The Unicorn lowered his
head and allowed the bird to see his reflection in the moonlight. It was a
reflection which showed his horn to the cursed swan. Emeril questioned why he
had not seen it before.
“Perhaps
someday you shall not need a penance to teach you how real pain is,” the Unicorn told him. “Perhaps someday I would break
the curse for you. But to-night, I fear too much that you would still spread
pain rather than learn from it. Goodnight, rotten Prince. May chariots of swans wing you to
your epiphany.”
Profane Tales and its characters are Copyright the author! (c) 2014 Luz Briar.
