Kvir

Ow.

Just...Ow.

The day before, when Lizaveta's friend showed, had hurt. A lot. The moments I struggled, I was caught between the beast and my "normal" self--something that I felt briefly every time I changed.

Briefly.

Never at full-force, like how I had felt it. Never for that long.

But somehow, somehow, I fought it. And I beat it.

In which my body was not going to let me forget about.

Normally, every time I changed I had some sort of side-effect that went along with it--the main one being the fact that I used magic, and since I used the magic, it progressed the spell.

I could already feel the minor changes the spell had done to me--my bottom teeth were longer, the claws on my hands had grown sharper, and my eyes. When the girl arrived, they were a darker brown, not the startling red I knew they changed to.

"You will become more of a beast every day."

The words of the woman who visited me in my cell the night the duke took over my castle echoed in my head. It was the night of my choice.

My choice to be executed or to become a monster.

I clenched my teeth and turned my head to the window. The overcast sky threatened rain, and a strong wind rustled the trees from a direction I had long since forgotten--north, south, east, or west.

It was fitting for the day.

The fact that she left her room shouldn't have surprised me. She was adventurous, I'd give her that much.

So adventurous that she bordered on the edge of stupid, but yes. Adventurous.

What she didn't know was that Vadik could never come back, no matter his promises of returning,

That was one aspect of the curse--or rather, the magic, I didn't absolutely despise. If anyone entered the castle grounds, they would never be able to find their way back when they left. If they tried, they would just wind up where they started.

It worked. Every time.

But one.

I closed my eyes. A girl, no older than eighteen, popped into my mind. Her brown ringlets fell to her shoulders, seemingly draped across them like a shrug. She was remarkably similar to Lizaveta, in more ways than one. In fact, they could almost be twins.

I shrugged off my thoughts and got up from my chair, reaching for the black cane as I moved. It wasn't that I needed it, it was just a reminder.

A reminder of the one who cursed me.

I ran my thumb over the gem decorating the top of the cane, feeling the engraving of foreign symbols under my skin. Even with my forgetfulness of the letters, I knew what it said.

Duke Aldrich of Evonshyr.

I gripped the top of the cane harder. The man who killed my wife.

I closed my eyes and pushed out the memories that started to flood to the tip of my mind, knowing what would happen in I delved into them. The scenes would bring on emotion, and emotion would bring on the creature.

"You will be able to feel nothing without consequence."

My consequence: a monster that couldn't be controlled.

I glanced at my mask lying on the table next to me. Something inside of me just reared back in aggravation at the silver object.

Do I really want to put it on today?

I shook my head. Why am I even asking myself these things?

"Raul!" I called.

A sudden warmth at my side alerted me to his presence. "Yes, sir?"

I picked up the mask and held it out to him. "Could you help?"

I finally looked at Raul's face. He was pale--paler than usual. His lips almost blended with his face, and it seemed like he had aged twenty years. His hands shook uncontrollably, and his breaths were heavy.

"Raul?" I asked, like a little child.

He looked at me and smiled. "It's amazing how the years pass, isn't it, Sir?"

I grinned a little and nodded. For me, practically no time had gone by. I had lived in the castle for over two-hundred years, and yet I hadn't aged. Once, Raul came to the conclusion that I aged so one year equalled one day, which would make since.

He never said how fast it went for him.

A sudden fear gripped me. What if he dies?

When my father died before I was cursed, Raul took the mantle of the father-figure in my life. He filled the gap and stood in for both of my parents--my mother, whom I never knew, and my father.

Pain shot up my spine. I groaned and held up my hand to stop Raul.

Think. Don't let it control you.

Lizaveta's words echoed in my mind. "If you can fight it, you can stop it."

And, like that, the pain stopped. I gasped, not realizing that I held my breath.

Hey, that worked.

With a bob of my head, I beckoned Raul over to tie my mask.

He moved slowly, like swimming through syrup, and fumbled with the ties that held the mask on. It took twice as long as usual. I could feel myself get on edge at his every touch.

He's like my father.

Not that I'd ever mention that to anyone. And the fact that he already knew that.

He placed his hand on my shoulder gently. I immediately relaxed, though I didn't realize I had tensed up so much.

"Sir, do not worry about me," he croaked.

I didn't move.

"Sir?"

I stayed as still as a statue.

Raul sighed again and sat next to me. "Brennen, please. Look at me."

Something is incredibly wrong.

Very rarely--no, never did Raul ask me to do something with such urgency in his voice. I could feel myself start to shake as I turned to look at him.

He smiled a small smile--a mix between sadness and happiness. "Death is a part of life. There is nothing you can do to stop it. It is a great mystery that only you can find the answer to, and only once at that. Do not be frightened for me."

Abruptly, I stood and moved toward the door. "Do not speak of Death."

"I will speak of it. It happens to everyone. You never know when your time will be. A minute, a day, twenty years--it's all a mystery." Then, in a low voice, he muttered, "And I know where I'm going after I die. I am not frightened."

"Raul, please. You will not die anytime soon," I choked.

He stood and came to me, once more patting my shoulder. "Everybody does. Why should I be any different?"

With that, he disappeared.

****

Again, I found myself watching the girl.

I swear, it wasn't on purpose.

With Raul's words to me over, I left the room and walked down the hall, then heard footsteps coming from a part of the castle where I hadn't been in years. The only light was a glowing ball, bobbing up and down like a specter. I slinked quietly towards it, darting back and forth between the shadows. Footsteps went along with the bobbing light very faintly.

Oh, I mused. It's her again. What's she up to?

So, I followed her down the hallway, watching as she picked up small trinkets and put them down again. The mass of brown curls that hung from her head we're tangled horribly, like she had just woken up.

She sighed and stopped walking, dropped the candle down, then lifting it back up. "Would you just come out of the shadows already?"

She's learning.

I emerged from my cloak of darkness. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What do you want, Kvir?"

Nothing.

Well, that's not true. You are apparently hovering around this person for a reason, so there's something you want.

But I would've preferred not to be seen.

Shut up, you.

When I didn't answer right away, Lizaveta turned away from me. "Fine," she said, throwing her arms into the air. "Don't answer the question."

A breath of air forced its way from my lungs. "I want nothing. I was just--"

"Following me?"

Well, not intentionally.

That's a lie.

Okay, then maybe a little on purpose.

Why am I talking to myself?

"No. I'm not following you. I was just walking."

She raised an eyebrow. "And following me."

"I told you--"

Lizaveta cut me off. "Look, I don't care right now, okay? Either follow or don't."

She couldn't be angry at me?

"Lizaveta, did I do something I'm not aware of?"

Lizaveta stopped and turned around. Her face softened. "No, you did nothing. It's just me right now." Her hand went up and she tapped her forehead with a shrug. "They won't stop."

"Are you sure of that?"

She opened and closed her mouth, looking for words.

She needs to stop that. She looks like a fish.

"I'm positive," she finally whispered, "Nothing anyone does helps. It's always there, whether I watch it play out over and over again or if I ignore it completely."

"You have tried doctors?"

Lizaveta let out a strangled laugh. "Yes. All they tell me is that it'll go away. Well, it's been ten years and it hasn't thought once about leaving."

"Does... talking about it help?"

Red slowly started to creep up Lizaveta's face. "I've told my brother."

"Anyone else?"

"Why does it matter?" she snapped. "I could go on to Edria's king about it and it won't make any difference. Your vespers didn't help at all, so why should you bother asking?"

I straightened to my full height, towering over the slim girl in front of me.

"I was trying to help, Lizaveta. I still am."

She turned away from me."I don't want to talk about it."

"Lizaveta--"

"It is Zara!" she shouted. "My name is Zara, not Lizaveta."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're name is Lizaveta. Your nickname is Zara."

She threw her hands up above her head and walked away. "I'm not talking about this now."

Well, I'll go back to my room.

But what if I want to follow her? See what she's looking at?

No, you don't. You want to go back to your room.

I began to trail behind Lizaveta by a few feet, walking slowly so I didn't surpass her. Every now and then, she would stop and hold up a candle to one of the pictures on the wall. They would always be torn or slashed beyond recognition--the result of my first changes.

Finally, she stopped to a portrait on the wall and held up the candle. It was intact, looking like it was brand new.

"Who is this?" she asked. "Why isn't it torn up?"

I looked up from the scattered pieces of knight's armor under me and stared at the picture. It was one of a regal man, with dark, shoulder-length hair and a matching mustache. He was dressed in royal blue had a crown perched on top of his head. It his hands, he flaunted a jeweled cane.

Duke Aldrich.

Now it was my turn to not want to speak.

"That's the duke who took over the castle a few hundred years ago," I answered, queuing her to move on.

Unlike me, she took the hint and did.

We walked down some more and stopped at more pictures. Rosalie, Henry Scott, me, and a much younger Raul. She would ask me about each of them and grudgingly, I'd answer.

Finally, we stopped at the last picture on the hall, one of a dark haired girl with tight ringlets. She smiled softly in the painting--unlike all the rest who frowned stoically. She was dressed in peasant robes, not like royalty. It was the girl I had thought of earlier. The only person who managed to come back.

I waited for Lizaveta question of "Who is this?" but it never came. I looked at her curiously.

Her lips trembled and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears looking at the painting. Carefully, she reached out a hand and touched the canvas, caressing the girl's face.

"How did you get this?" she whispered.

I answered her question slowly. "One of the servants here did it a few years ago."

She shook her head. "No. How did you get the girl in the picture? Did she pose here, or did your painter just think her up?"

"She was here."

Lizaveta gasped and pulled her hand away from the painting. She turned to me, tears falling down her cheeks. "Why is my mother here?"

I reeled back in shock. "What?"

Her hand raised and she pointed at the picture. "That's my mother. Why do you have a picture of her here?"

Oh boy. Well, that explains the similarities.

"She came to my castle years ago," I answered.

"But you knew her? How?"

I stood still, at a loss of words. I didn't know that the girl's mother had come to the castle.

"How?" she screamed and raised her hand, as if to strike me.

I grabbed it. "I can't tell you. I don't have the right words, and it'll come out wrong."

Again, she opened her mouth to say something back.

No going back now.

"I can show you."

_______________________________________

Well, that was a twist.

Okay, so has anyone heard of the word kerfuffle? I was listening to the radio the other day and it popped up and I googled it. My new favorite word.

Did anyone catch the thing I threw in? I'm not going to say what it was though. (It may, possibly, have been a name.)

Noa