I realize now.
“Castletree,” I whisper. “You’re showing me a memory.”
The princes look down upon the woman, their prismatic doppelgängers moving in ways so familiar. Ezryn turns his back to the woman, Dayton laughs, Farron shrinks away, and Keldarion… Keldarion points an accusing finger.
A deep sense of dread fills me. Because I know how this story ends. I’ve seen the nightmare in person. This is no lost traveler asking for shelter against the bitter wind.
This is the Enchantress.
And suddenly, a brilliant white light erupts from around me and the woman turns inward on herself, robes cocooning around her. She emerges the most beautiful fae I’ve ever seen. A gleaming entity of starlight made whole.
Tears flood down my face and I don’t know why. I step forward, grasping for her hand, but she’s out of my reach.
The princes fall back in her wake, their own light dimming. The roses she once held now float above their heads.
“The universe is cyclical,” the woman’s voice says, and it’s like the shimmer of stars through the atmosphere. “Day gives way to night and back again. Spring to summer, summer to autumn, autumn to winter, and winter to spring. Those who die go back into the cosmos, their spirits remade into the grass and the animals and the fae reborn.”
This voice… It sparks something inside of me, like a dream I woke up from but can’t remember. I collapse to my knees, stretching my arm up to the memory.
“And as the universe is cyclical, so is the rule and magic of the realms,” the Enchantress says to the princes. “Destiny has passed this rule to the four of you.” Her voice darkens. “And you have squandered the responsibility.”
The four princes collapse to their knees, heads bowed. The fae enchantress grows even larger. “In your states, you are all undeserving of the great destiny that awaits you. This providence shall not be disregarded in the way you have all failed your realms and your people.”
“Please, offer us forgiveness,” they say in unison.
Her voice is the ocean breeze and the cracking of ice during the first thaw. “You must earn your repentance.”
Then she turns to Ezryn. “Here stands the vigilante, who seeks vengeance instead of redemption. Who drowns his sorrows in blood and bone instead of facing what lies beneath. Here stands a beast who will let his realm go to rot as long as his sword is wet with blood.”
Ezryn collapses, clawing at his skin.
Leave him alone!I want to scream, but my voice is trapped inside of me.
She turns to Dayton. “Here stands the fool, who escapes within the flesh for fear of his fate. Who languishes his time and talent. Here stands a beast who will let his realm go to rot as long as his mind is muddled enough not to comprehend.”
Dayton falls to his knees, back arching, face twisted in anguish.
But the Enchantress is not finished. She looms above Farron. “And here stands the coward, who pretends passiveness is pacifism. Who hides behind investigation instead of admitting indecisiveness. Here stands a beast who will let his realm go to rot as long as his curtains are drawn so he need not see it.”
Now Farron falls to the ground, his shape curling inward.
And finally, the Enchantress turns to face Keldarion. He falls to his knees, groveling. But I know it’s not for himself. It’s for the others.
I scream into the void, begging her not to do what I know happens next. But it’s no use. This is a memory. And the course of time has been ravaged by destiny.
“Here stands the Sworn Protector of the Realm, the traitor who betrayed his people for love.” The Enchantress’s voice booms like the felling of a forest. “The one who sought glory and passion. Here stands a beast who will let the entire Vale go to rot for the sake of his own selfish heart.”
“No!” I scream.
But there’s nothing I can do to stop the past.
With a triumphant rise of the Enchantress’s hands, the princes contort, their bodies metamorphosing into something monstrous and horrible. Their backs break, their faces change to snouts, and claws replace what once were the hands that have since held me.
And now before me are the wolves.
The roses hover above their heads and the Enchantress reaches up to touch each one. “I lay a curse upon this castle, upon all those within it, and upon each High Prince of the Vale. Every night, you shall take the hideous form of a beast. This spell may only be broken by winning the true love of your fated mate; and having them accept the mate bond that has long been woven among the stars.” A shining tear runs down her starlight face. “For only then will you have proven you are worthy of your destiny.”
The wolves lie low before her, the looks of torment clear even on their light-born faces.