She'd been such a fool.

Once in a dream, she's hoped all will be well, thought no evil could touch her.

That love conquered all.

Dust danced in the air, shining like diamonds in the winter sun. Promises of forever.

Kat was in agony.

She had no idea how, but in the flurry, she'd found the strength to raise her arm and sink the iron dagger into the beast's stomach.

It yelped and pulled away from her, and for a moment, she felt relief. Then, the pain returned, bringing bile to her throat, tears to her eyes. She lay shattered on the floor, unaware of the extent of her damages.

The beast growled, and she knew she had to get out of there. She'd left the dagger in its stomach. It could pull it out.

Her ears rang and her visions swam, but a foreign energy rushed through her, aiding her in her quest to stay alive. So, somehow, she managed to turn, crawl out of the study and into the hall.

Distant screaming echoed around her, but she was too hazy to understand words, too caught up in her own pain to focus. Her only conscious thought was to escape.

One more step. Just one.

Again!

"Kat!"

His voice. It couldn't be his voice. He was still the beast, still whirling in agony with the iron dagger buried into his stomach. Would it kill him like it did the Cusith? At this point, would she weep?

Of course she would. She was weeping now, for his agony and her own. For the curse that destroyed them both.

A light touch brushed her calf. Out of reflex, she turned to look over her shoulder. Cage was really there, a broken smile on his face, his eyes the dark blue she loved.

"No," she wanted to say. "Stay back before it comes out again." But all she could do was gurgle through the blood in her throat.

She hadn't tried to feel her wounds, but the pain let her know that he'd most likely split her open. She wasn't sure how she was still alive, moving, even if agonizingly slow.

"Shhh," he said, his voice tender. "Let me."

Not like she had a choice. She crashed on the stone floors, unable to move. His touch on her shredded stomach made her cry out, and it sounded horrid.

He kept shushing her, his hand on her hot and painful. Then it moved to her chest. It was agony, the heat digging into her like a thousand needles puncturing her skin, pulling at it, twisting it.

For a moment, she was sure she would lose consciousness, spill the contents of her stomach, if she still had one.

Through the haze and the pain, she thought she heard him groan, cry out in pain. And then it was over.

Kat wasn't sure if she'd truly blacked out, but once she could focus again, she realized she was lying halfway up the staircase without being aware exactly how she'd gotten there.

Her body still ached, but it wasn't the sharp agony she'd felt from the claws. She lifted a trembling hand and placed it over her stomach. Her dress was in tatters, but underneath the sliced fabric, she felt skin.

Sore, painful, scabbed skin, but skin. She dared look down and almost heaved. Everything was covered in so much blood, it was hard to tell what was fabric and what was flesh.

She heard a rattled breath from behind and turned with a start. Cage leaned with his back against the wall with the portraits. The iron dagger still stuck out of his stomach, but it didn't explain why the rest of his torso was and intricate mess of torn flesh and blood.

"Cage," she whispered, and this time, her voice worked.

Every muscle screaming in pain, she managed to crawl down a few steps.

"No, stop." His voice was low and strained, filled with the gurgle she'd just lost. Then, he closed his eyes and started laughing.

It tore through him, made him cough, sent more blood oozing from his wounds.

"Look at us," he whispered. "Just look at what we've done. What we've become." And he laughed again, the sound bitter.

Kat's mind still swirled, and in that moment she could see why he felt like laughing. A small giggle bubbled out of her.

"We're so stupid," she said.

"Yes. I so deserve this."

"You two are insane." Joey's voice silenced the mad laughter. "Kat, are you... Cage?"

Apparently Joey was for once lost for words, but the hurt and worry in his voice managed to somber her and force a bit of focus. Even if she was still sore, she could tell she was no longer bleeding. So she forced her body down the rest of the steps and towards him.

He made a movement as if he wanted to pull away from her, but he was already against the wall, and once she reached him, she wondered how he was still alive. She could see raw muscle and the bones of his ribs and his stomach was an indescribable mess of battered flesh.

"How did--?" Her stomach heaved, but she pushed the sick back.

He raised a shaky hand and placed it on her cheek. It was filled with blood and she wondered if it was hers or his own.

"I love you so much," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She didn't know what to say to that. Because it most certainly wasn't alright. Instead, she wrapped her fingers around the hilt of the dagger. His hand fell and covered hers.

"No, leave it there. And go. Run."

How was he talking so much? She gritted her teeth, frustration breaking through the fear.

"You promised you wouldn't kill yourself."

"I didn't. The beast killed me. And--"

And her. She'd been the one to sink the dagger into him.

"No," she whispered. "I can't let you die. Not after...." She placed her hand over her stomach. She still couldn't understand how it happened, but his wounds resembled the ones she should have had too much for it to be a coincidence.

"The moment you yank the dagger free, it will come out again," he whispered. "I can't let that happen." He raised his hand again and placed it on her cheek. "Just let me look at you."

Tears streamed down her face, the frustration giving way to sadness and a pain as powerful as the one she'd felt when she was convinced she was dying, yet different. This couldn't be it. But he was right. If the beast came out again, she was dead, and she was afraid to die. He apparently wasn't.

His hand felt like fire against her cheek and the weariness in her body eased. Her eyes widened.

"Are you... Are you healing me?"

"I'm trying." His voice was slurred, his eyes unfocused as he seemed to be putting his life force into her. But how?

"How can you even do that?"

He shook his head the tiniest bit, obviously unable to speak anymore. She pulled away and his hand fell limp. The beast hadn't killed him, it was her. The dagger, the energy he'd somehow put into healing her. And even if the mechanics escaped her, she knew she couldn't let this happen.

"Joey." She raised tearful eyes to the portrait. "Joey, what can I do to save him?"

"I... I don't know." The man in the portrait shook his head, sorrow etched on every feature. "I can't even understand what happened, what he discovered, how he knew he could heal you."

He hadn't healed her. He'd taken her wounds upon him. And she couldn't let him die for it. So she stood. Her knees shook, but held, and the more she spent standing, her strength returned to her.

"Cage," she said, her tone determined, "I'm taking you to the dungeon. Help me."

She wasn't sure if he'd heard her, but when she wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hoisted him off the floor, he did help. Nerve-wreckingly slow, they headed down the stairs and into the dungeon.

Sweat, blood and tears mixed on Kat's face with every step she took, but knowledge that it was the only way drove her forward. By the time they reached the door, he was barely conscious, leaning most of his weight on her. A trail of blood marked their progress.

She stopped in the threshold and wrapped her hand around the hilt of the dagger. A growl built up in what was left of Cage's chest, but he was too weakened to speak, to protest. With a sharp movement, she pulled the blade out of his stomach.

The growl grew in intensity, taking on an animalistic edge, but she pushed him inside and closed the door. Before she even managed to fit the key in the lock, the sound of popping bones had her hair standing on end. She hadn't thought the beast would come out so fast, not when Cage was as wounded as he was.

A yelp filled the air, then a howl, long and painful. Her hand shook as she turned the key, and she dared throw only a fleeting glance inside the cage.

The beast was in there, large, threatening and savage-looking, but it stayed in a corner, yellow eyes taking her in, low growls escaping it.

She looked past it, to the wounds. With the iron out of his body, the bleeding was stopping. Slowly, but surely, he would heal, just like he had after their brush in with the wolves.

The only problem was, she had a captive beast, and she wasn't sure how long it would stay captive.

The curse was going to be the end of Kat. After she'd locked Cage inside the dungeon, she spent almost an hour sitting on the bottom step, listening for the sound that he'd returned to himself.

It never came. So, feeling exhausted, she decided to retreat to her chambers for a few hours. Once she reached it and glanced at herself in the mirror, she thought she was going to be sick.

The dress was barely hanging off her, most of her chest and abdomen exposed. It was only the blood that covered her which prevented her to look positively indecent. Not that it mattered when she was dying.

She shed the tattered clothes and scrubbed herself in the tub. Afterwards, she stood naked in front of the mirror, her eyes taking in the scab lines on her chest and stomach. They were healing quickly, and she wasn't sure if she'd have any scars left. But given their position, it was a wonder the beast hadn't clawed her heart out.

She'd been so close to dying. And once Cage had taken the wounds upon himself, so had he. Unless he'd died in the dungeons.

The thought drilling into her bones, she hurried to get dressed again. But this time, she pulled on a pair of calf-skin trousers, low heel boots and a shirt. Then, before going to the dungeon, she paid a visit to Cage's bed chambers from here she retrieved a blade and a sheath for her thigh where she could place the iron dagger.

She was not going down to face the beast unarmed. There was no guarantee that it couldn't smash the iron door down if it put its mind to it.

Once she reached the dungeon, it was clear that the beast hadn't escaped. The door was locked, like she'd left it. But one glance inside filled Kat's heart with dread. It was still the beast in there, not Cage. It watched her from the shadows, yellow eyes narrowed and shining, its fangs bared. A low growl filled the room and she pulled back before it launched at her.

With shaky knees, she headed back up the stairs and stopped in front of Joey's portrait. He seemed to be asleep.

"He's still the beast," she announced.

Joey jumped and opened his eyes. "Ah shit! I mean shoot, I mean..." His voice trailed off as he took her in. "How are you feeling?"

"Impressive seeing as it almost tore me open. Why am I not dead?"

Joey shook his head. "I have no idea what that was. I know he heals fast, but I never thought he could heal other people. Neither did he. I don't even know how he thought to try it in the first place."

Kat accepted the answer with a nod. "Can he stay the beast for long periods of time?"

Joey hesitated and she was sure he had an answer to it, and it wouldn't be pleasant.

"Yes, he can," he finally answered with a sigh. "The thing is, the beast is sometimes an escape for him as well. It feeds off his frustration, and I've seen him stay like that to escape."

"Escape?"

"Yes. The transformation itself is very unpleasant. It hurts him more than he lets show. And now, when he's so injured... I'm not sure his body could take the strain of changing back."

Yes, that made sense on some level. "Okay, I'll wait."

"This is your chance to leave, Kat." Joey sounded exhausted. "No one should go through what you did."

He was right, of course. But the gravity, the sheer terror of it hadn't caught up with her yet. She was standing, carrying weapons, when hours ago she was drowning in her own blood, nearly slaughtered by the man she loved.

"I think this is his curse, really," Joey mumbled. "Being abandoned by all."

"I'm not leaving." She didn't even have to think the words. They were pure truth. "Not after everything. I will figure out a way to break that curse if it's the last thing I do."

And with that, she wheeled around and headed for the library. For a few hours, she rummaged on the highest and most secluded shelves, trying to find books on magic, anything that could explain how it worked and what the rules were. She found nothing, so she turned to the only other source she could think of: anything on the war with Endir.

She found a few books on that, and settled to read. After a few moments, her stomach rumbled and she realized she hadn't eaten in a very long time. Which meant Cage or the beast or whoever was in that cell, was also starving.

After a quick trip to the kitchen, she headed for the dungeon with a selection of meats and cheese, together with some bread and milk. A quick glance inside the cage let her know the beast was still out, even as it laid on the floor. Unwilling to subject herself to more growling and talon swipes, she pushed the tray through the flap and left.

Grabbing her own food, she returned to the library and munched on cinnamon buns as she read on the war.

Even if the description of the movement of troops, strategy and battles were fairly detailed, there was nothing on magic. Just that it was wielded, foul, disgusting, hurtful. No one said how exactly it was wielded or what it could do, but it came to Kat that the author might never have known.

Humans didn't know how magic worked because very few of them, if any, could understand it. They received it as it was, explained everything it could do by simply claiming it was magic.

And even if she now understood why the war had started and where humans had gone wrong in their relationship with magic, it still didn't explain how it all worked. Struck them down with magic and magic explosion weren't exactly very helpful.

The light outside fell into darkness and her eyes strained from all the reading. With a deep sigh, Kat gave up on her studies and headed back into the portrait hall.

"Any luck?" Joey asked the moment he saw her.

"No. What do you know about magic?" She addressed the portraits at large.

Most of the men winced at the word itself, so she guessed that not much.

Joey shrugged. "The only magic I came in contact with before Cage was cursed was the one cast on the notebooks. We just accepted what they do without wondering about the mechanics."

"Magic is traitorous," Sir William added. "It has a will of its own and bends to the intentions of the caster."

Kat turned to him, a bit shocked. "That is actually very good insight. How do you know that?"

William stiffened and shifted his upper lip, making his mustache move in a dramatic fashion. "I still remember how everything started. How Lucille sent all those nightmarish creatures at the kingdoms of men. Even if it was well before my time, I remember my grandfather's stories."

"Lucille?" The name sent a shiver down her spine, and she was shocked to identify it as excitement. Why, when she'd never heard the name before?

"Centuries ago, fairies used to roam these lands, interfere in the lives of men," William said. "They claimed they wanted to aid us. It turned out, it wasn't true. Lucille was the first of them who showed her true color, creating what we now call the fae. The one who lent her magic to Endir to attack Iride. The cause of the war."

A shudder shook Kat's body. She'd thought Cecile was evil, but apparently they all were.

Not evil. Powerful. Power has no time for fools.

The words had her flinching again and she shook her head to drive them back. What even were those? Where did they come from?

"Magic leaves a mark," William said, scrunching his nose. "A stench. It ruins even the best of men." He looked towards the door to the dungeon as he said this.

"So, this Lucille..." Kat wasn't sure what she wanted to ask about her.

"She has vanished together with the other fae. Hopefully, forever."

"There are rumors she's still in Endir," Dustin whispered. "That she's whispering in the ears of the Steward, claiming that he would have legitimacy to rule if he claimed enough magic."

Kat turned to him, frowning. She'd learned enough history and politics to know that the heir of the Witch King had disappeared and a place-keeper ruled over Endir. She hadn't known this particular detail, though.

"Do you think she might be?"

William huffed. "Who knows? Eight years ago I would have said it is nonsense. No one had seen fairies or fae in thirty years. But after what happened to K-- Cage, who knows?"

Kat narrowed her eyes, certain the William had nearly used Cage's real name, but she did not press the issue. The information she'd gathered about magic swirled around her mind.

There was a clue there, something she could use. But with everything that had happened that day, she could no longer focus.

So after throwing the dungeon door a longing glance, she headed up the stairs to her bed chambers. She needed the rest and so did Cage.

Maybe an answer would come to a rested mind.

I updated a bit earlier because there will be no update tomorrow since I'll be traveling.

We have a new chapter of brand new content. And a lot of weird stuff happened here. What's up with the healing, and what Cage did? Also, the beast is refusing to go away. And Kat has no idea what to do.

I guess she will have to do something soon. Funny how she is now the master of the castle with a prisoner in the dungeons.

One small note: I love the song for this chapter. I totally picture it playing while everyone is half-dying. It has been in my head a lot and I love my mental image.

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