Once upon a time, there was a young prince who ruled a small, but beautiful kingdom. The man was handsome, but childish. The things he loved he guarded jealously, greedily, but they would break, shatter, wither, and die because he cared for them so poorly. He cared even less for his kingdom, and his people suffered in poverty and famine while he lived a life of opulence.

He broke the hearts of many, but few dared to try and break his cold heart. When he was scorned or denied, the unfortunate offender was imprisoned in the dungeons, where he could keep them forever, or until they faded away. The prince was allowed what he pleased, and none opposed him. They knew the kingdom would suffer far worse, should he be angry, and if he should be disposed of, the land would fall into quarreling and chaos, as it had been before in the prince's great grandfather's time.

So the madness continued for many, many years, undaunted, until one day.

On the eve of his 18th birthday, the prince hosted a ball at the castle. Amid the celebration, an uninvited guest knocked on the door. It was an old man, wrinkled, boney, and bent, requesting a room for the night. In return for shelter, he offered the prince a single red rose. The prince accepted the rose, awestruck by its unusual radiance and beauty, but he scoffed at the man and ordered him to be sent away.

The man demanded his rose be returned, but the prince coveted it, and refused him a second time. Before the guards could remove him, the old man morphed before their very eyes into a young, beautiful creature. A woman.

The prince, spotting the change, carelessly tossed the flower aside, hastily apologized, and begged the young woman to come in. But she would not, for she had seen the horrible cruelty and selfishness in his heart, and was rightly repulsed.

He demanded again, stubborn, that she come inside. He had never seen one so beautiful; not all the pitiful creatures in his dungeons, nor any treasure he owned, could rival her beauty, and he wanted her.

She refused again, and before he could order a third time, she cast a curse upon the prince. She gave him a new form more befitting of one so thoughtlessly, mindlessly selfish; the mangled, horrid appearance that she had once donned before him. She cursed the land to wither and rot into a dark, desolate, dead forest, and all of the servants became living objects, as the prince had always regarded them as such. The enchantress left only the single, beautiful rose, promising that it would continue to bloom for another five years. In that time, he should learn to be kind and generous, or he would "lose himself to the beast within." Once the flower wilted and was bare of even a single petal, he and his kingdom would be forever cursed to wallow in ugliness, in shadow and death.

A thin ray of hope lived on in the kingdom, for as long as the rose bloomed, there was time to break the spell. But as year after year passed by, hope dwindled, and the prince refused to let any more people in to his domain. He gave up trying to defy his fate, because it was useless.

Nothing would change him. Nothing would save him from this hell on earth.

Axel woke from his slumber with a growl. The wind rustled the castle's shutters loudly, pelting them with pouring rain as the thunderstorm ravaged the outside world. The noise was too loud for him to sleep, and he glared out onto the falcony beyond the thin glass window.

"P-Pardon me, M-Master."

The man's gaze snapped to the floor, to a small, black tea kettle. She shivered, meeting cold, narrowed eyes, and swallowed dryly.

"Out with it. Why have you disturbed me?"

The kettle hopped back a step. "B-Begging your pardon, S-Sire. I-It seems we have an...uninvited guest." Axel's eyes widened.

"No trespassers!" he bellowed, making the kettle tremble. "Send them away, or I will-"

"B-But Sire!" she stammered, shrinking back when his glare hardened. No one ever interrupted the prince.

The kettle expected she was going to be smashed to shards in his anger, but the prince did nothing. He only glared.

The room fell into silence until she continued, more bravely, "W-We would send him away, S-Sire, but he is unconscious. K-Kairi found him on the doorstep."

"And?" he replied irritably.

"He is soaked through and cold as death. Sire, i-if we turn him away, he will surely die."

"And?"

The kettle looked down at the floor for a moment, then raised her eyes imploringly.

"Master, please. Have mercy on him...We could keep him in the East Wing. He'll never trouble you there, and when he awakes, he can leave." It had been so long since the servants had anyone to attend to. The castle had been dark and empty for the past four years, and Prince Axel rarely ventured from his rooms before or after meals. Many of the staff were curious about this visitor, what news he could bring of the outside world, and, of course, the boy was another opportunity to break the spell upon the land. Upon all of them.

"Please let him stay," she begged softly.

The prince grunted, but the kettle noticed a subtle shift in posture. His face was turned away, so she was unable to read his expression.

"Show me this guest, Xion," he demanded, and she let a small smile creep across her face.

"A-At once, Master!"

Axel rose from the bed, and in the darkened room, he looked to be like any other man. But when the lightning flashed across the sky and filled the room with light, there stood a hulking figure, man in shape but like no man one would ever see. His nails were gnarled and long, like talons; his skin was cracked and wrinkled and broken; his hair, blazing red, fell in chaotic, wild spikes behind his head and shoulders. His eyes were yellow and wolfish; his teeth sharp, like fangs. He was no longer a man, but a monster; ancient, ugly, and ferocious.

But Xion did not flinch. She made no comment at all, but turned to lead him out of his chambers, smiling secretly.

He followed the servant down to the grand foyer. As soon as he entered the room, every object looked up hurriedly, forcing wide smiles.

"Good evening, Sire!"

"Wonderful to see you up and about, Sire!"

He ignored the greetings and walked straight toward a large cluster of servants, all standing around what appeared to be a human body. They backed away as Axel approached, whispering among themselves, and the prince looked down at his unexpected guest. The boy was soaked from the rain, the carpet beneath him growing damp and dirty from the grime on his tattered clothes. Axel's lip curled.

"You let this rat in? I would not dream of housing this filth in my castle!"

The crowd shrank back, cowering, but Xion, who was quickly joined by Kairi, a little red book, came forward, approaching the hulking man with more courage than they felt.

"Forgive us, Master," Kairi said. "We thought that-"

"I didn't tell you to think!" he snapped. "Vermin are not allowed in my castle!"

"But Sire!" Xion cried. "You said- !"

"I said I would look at him and nothing more! I have seen my fill, and I refuse to let him stay a moment longer!"

The prince lifted the body as if it were weightless, his muscles strong despite the bony appearance. His nails torn into the boy's back, ripping the fabric of his shirt and piercing the tender, yielding flesh beneath. But the lad didn't wake, didn't speak out against the harshness of his treatment. He hung limply from Axel's grip as he was dragged away.

Kairi hopped after them, calling out desperately. "Sire, w-wait! Please reconsider!"

Axel didn't look back.

This pitiful human would have been more trouble than he was worth. He was dirty, wet, probably disease-ridden. Certainly a peasant. The prince was not in the mood for charity. The guests he had accepted before were all nobility, gentry, and they had long since fled from his castle. He should have known better than to hope...

As he reached the large doors, he stopped, his gnarled hand resting on the handle.

He had been deceived by appearances before. What if this was another test, put before him by the witch herself?

He gripped the handle tight, longing to pull the heavy door open and toss the whelp away for good. But even if his suspicions were wrong, that witch demanded that he be hospitable, even to the most unworthy, ugly souls.

The prince slammed his hand against the large door, growling to himself.

Damn Xion and Kairi to hell! If he denied this boy now, he would surely regress the spell further! Even if the boy was not enchanted in any way, the witch would know. Yes, she would see; she must have, for every time Axel drove someone away, by his demeanor alone or his beastly behavior, something inside him would snap and slip away. He couldn't explain how he knew or even what the feeling was, but he felt it. Whether they be memories or even just...pieces of his humanity, something was breaking away and disappearing every time. He had stopped answering the door at all, stopped accepting any visitors altogether, because he risked losing another part of himself when the visitor inevitably fled in terror.

This chance practically fell in his lap, or rather, onto his doorstep, and he would be a fool to pass it up.

He had no choice. Who knew what he would lose next? It could be his very mind, the last part of him that was still human, however uncivilized.

He would have to keep this one, much as he didn't want to.

"Curse it all!"

Snarling, Axel spun away from the door and trekked back down the hall and up the stairs. His subjects wordlessly watched him go, caught between curiosity, excitement, and worry.

"He's going to let the boy stay?" Some whispered softly.

"Imagine! A guest after all these years!"

"It's another chance to break the spell!"

But what of this small guest? Would he try to run? Would he even survive the night?

No one had any answers. They could only watch, wait, and hope with as much hope as they had left.