Chapter 1 (Part 2)

This will be the second part of the book, but I am writing scene by scene. So I write a part from Kailsta's view the rewrite it from Arawn's point of view.

Part 2

     Chapter 1

 

     The ornate iron gates stand wide open as if they are expecting me. Maybe they are, she probably saw me coming.
    I hesitate before crossing the vestibule. My actions are rash, I know they are. But the Beast murdered my brother, I will have my revenge. Squeezing my horse’s ribs, I urge him forward. As I move over the threshold I feel as if I pass through a curtain. There is a rippling in the air, a thickness, and a saccharine sweet smell, then I am inside. As I shake myself of the previous, strange sensation, a new feeling washes over me. One of captivity. Ridiculous, this abode of the Beast is only playing tricks with my head. As my horse, Hector ambles up the white, pebble drive, I take in the grandiose palace before me. The stone road extends for a kilometer before splitting into two, going around a garden of ornately trimmed hedges, and meeting again. Succeeding the pebble lane the palace sits imperially, in the form of a semicircle. Tall windows with elaborate borders and two great doors grace the anterior. Even in my cold rage I have to admit its beauty. It looks almost as if a king would exit those door any minute, with his court trailing behind, except everything is dead silent. Not even a note of birdsong reaches my ears. Everything is still, like a picture.
     Rounding the carefully kept garden, I let my eyes slide over every gaping window, but there is no hint of any life from within. When I reach the front entrance I dismount and again scan the perimeter around myself. For lack of a hitching posts I leave Hector’s reins hanging, he will not go anywhere and I will not be here long. I draw my sword before placing a hand on either door and pushing them open, even they are silent. There is no going back now, I enter. It is dark, shadows cling to every corner, the only light coming from the open doors behind me.
    I am in a large atrium, with doors that must lead to different parts of the palace on either side of me and a grand staircase directly before me. The marble floor shines faintly, I can almost see my reflection in it. Briefly glancing towards the ceiling, I notice a chandelier with crystals that drip from its gilded limbs like dew drops. It not at all as I expected. While I traversed on my way, I imagined pointy turrets, a huge foreboding gate, maybe a moat and bridge. I thought the inside would be covered by thick layers of dust, with piles of the bones of the Beast’s victims piled in corners. I thought there would be monstrous spiders, building their webs between the dilapidated furniture. It is what all the stories say the Beast’s palace is like. This royal palace must be just an illusion.  
    Suddenly I am aware of an impending darkness that lingers just around the corner at the summit of the staircase. It is the Beast.
    I summon the courage and yell vehemently, “Come out, I know you are there.” The bitter taste of revenge lingers on my tongue, as my words echo through the room.
    Without warning the great oak doors bang closed behind me and the room is momentarily cast into darkness before it is bathed in candlelight. But I keep my eyes directed on the staircase. A shadow moves forward and I draw back my arm, preparing to fling my sword into its black heart. The figure steps suddenly into the dim candle light and my muscles stiffen. The Beast does not have razor teeth, and sharp claws, and glowing eyes, and fur that covers its whole body, as the stories say it does. No, she has hair so dark it seems almost purple, eyes that are two black pits, and cheekbones that protrude from her white skin. Shadows cling to her, they seem to melt with the black fabric of her dress. Every inch of her screams maliciousness, she may not resemble a beast on the outside, but on the inside she surely does.
    I clutch my sword tightly and challenge her, “Fight me, sorceress. Or are you too cowardly?”
    Her voice booms furiously and reverberates through my bones, “Call me what you like, but the moment you entered my gates you became my captive.” A muscle in her cheek tightens and with a slight movement of her hand, my sword is ripped from my grasp. “You will have no need of that while you are here.” Her eyes narrow slightly, before she states sharply, “Supper is at seven o’clock sharp, do not be late.” Then just as suddenly as she appeared, she vanishes again into shadow and I am left alone in the funeral feeling entrance hall. Just like that? Just like that I am her captive, I am stuck here? I spin around desperately searching for my sword, but to no avail, it is as if it has been swallowed. Suddenly I remember my daggers and my hands shoot to my belt, then to my boot. They have all somehow magically disappeared. I came prepared with my best sword and six daggers hidden within my clothing. All she did was flick her hand at me and I was left weaponless, even my flint seems to be gone. Her cowardice makes me so very angry. If it were not for the childishness of the action I would stamp my foot and possibly throw something.
    But an extra sword, dagger, and bow with arrows are on my saddle.
    The idea has me spinning to face the door. There are two wrought iron handles shaped as the stems of roses with a just opening bud atop and I forcefully take hold of them. The Beast is not safe yet. I pull, I push, I attempt to rattle them, but they remain unmovable. Angrily I rest my forehead against the intricately carved wood, “Bloody Beast,” I mutter angrily under my breath.
    “Sir, do you wish me to show you to your room?” The stately voice has me twisting quickly, a fist at the ready. But there is nothing there.
    “Who spoke to me?” I ask nervously, scanning the room.
    “I did,” comes a man’s regal voice once again.
    I narrow my eyes towards the sound and can make out the faintest glimmer in the air. “Who are you?”
    “Cedric, her Ladyship’s steward,” he replies.
    I almost snort when he says her Ladyship, but at the last second think better of it. Instead, I say, “Where is my horse? I left him standing outside, but as you can see,” I motion to the stubborn doors, “I cannot get out.”
    “Your horse is being well cared for,” Cedric states and the shimmering air shifts slightly as if he is lifting his head a fraction higher.
    “Nevertheless I would like to see him,” I demand, although I feel rather silly talking to air. Anyone who saw me would think I was mad.
     “Very well,” the steward concedes, with a heavy sigh.
     Slowly ever so slowly, the doors swing open and I step into another world. Sunlight streams around me, warming my cold skin.
    A slight rustle in the air passes me by and Cedric’s voice calls from my left, “This way.”
    I squint in his direction, catching his shimmering just as it begins to float away. It is difficult to keep track of exactly where he is, so for the sake of something to follow I ask him the first question that pops into my head, “Are you a ghost?”
    Cedric makes a surprised noise somewhere between a cough and chortle, “Absolutely not.”
    “Well, what are you then?” We round the corner of the palace and begin to make our way down a flagstone pathway, at the end of which I see a rectangular shaped stable.
    “It is not for me to tell you. If you wish to know then you should ask her Ladyship.”
    “If she does not turn me into a mouse, or eat me first,” I mutter.
    Cedric lets out a dry, humorless laugh, “Boy, you should not believe everything you hear.”
    I want to press further, but we reach the stable. The doors are open and through them drifts the smell of hay and horses.
    “Lucas. Jonathan,” Cedric’s voice booms through the barn.
    Glancing around the barn I see that everything is in place, not even a stray piece of straw lies upon the ground.
    “Yes, sir,” two, young voices suddenly say, sounding directly in front of me. I almost jump from surprise.
    “Take our guest to see his horse, then escort him back to the palace,” Cedric commands.
    “Yes, sir,” they chime.
    I feel the breeze that is Cedric pass me by and then I am left alone with the two invisible stable boys.
    The air shifts as they move around me, “So you are the new…” The voice that speaks is rather high pitched, probably on the verge of changing. “Our new guest,” finishes another voice, this one resembling a man’s voice.
    “Hardly a guest, more of a prisoner,” I say.
    “You’re one of those are you?” Comes the deeper voice from in front of me. “Well come on then, follow us.”
    I begin walking to the left, thinking that is where I see the shimmering, but the younger sounding voice interrupts me, “No, no. This way.”
    Embarrassed I turn and start in the opposite direction. When we are almost at the end of the aisle, we reach two spacious adjoining stalls. In the first stands Hector, feasting on sweet smelling hay. His red dun coat shines, from a well-needed brushing. When he sees me he knickers softly before taking another mouthful of hay. Hearing movement in the next stall, I curiously move to look through the bars. Standing with its head high is a great, majestic, black horse.
    “Whose horse is this,” I ask eyeing the strong back, flowing mane and tail, stout legs, and large feet.
    “That’s Abraxas,” the higher voice states, directly followed by the other saying, “He is her Ladyship’s horse.”
    “She rides?” I ask incredulously.
    “Why don’t you ask her that?”
    I do not reply. I just cannot picture the Beast riding such a magnificent steed as this.
   “Come on we’ll show you the rest of the barn,” the boyish voice entices and I feel a light tugging as of the wind on my sleeve. With one last glance at the two horses, I follow the boys.
    From their constant chatter, I soon learn which name accompanies which voice-Jonathan’s is the lower one and Lucas the higher one and I also learn where my saddle, that has been oiled and shined, is located. Once the Beast is dead I will have an easy time escaping. I do still plan on killing the Beast, I will have my revenge.
   Finally, after I have had a thorough tour of the barn the boys return me to the palace, where Cedric whisks me off up the staircase and to a spacious bedroom. Greens, browns, and golds meet my eyes as I cross the threshold. In the center of the room, but against the right wall is a large canopied bed with a mountain of pillows resting upon the embroidered comforter. A little to the right of the bed is grand, marble fireplace. It is white with gold colored streaks throughout and carved, just under the mantel, is a hunting scene, complete with dogs and horses and riders, chasing a stag. To the left are few sitting chairs and short table with a vase of white roses sitting on its gleaming surface. The far side of the room, across from the entry door is graced with three windows. The two closest to the walls are floor to ceiling windows and the drapes that hang around them are dark green silk that shimmers in the sunlight pouring through the window. The middle window does not quite reach the floor but meets the edge of a dark wood writing desk. Altogether it looks almost inviting. Almost, because I do not forget whose palace I am in.
   “Sir, if you will follow me, we will get you dressed for supper,” Cedric says, and I watch as he floats to a door on the left wall. The door opens and if I had not carefully followed Cedric’s glimmer I would not know it was he who opened the door. I move after Cedric and enter the room he leads me to. It is a bathroom decorated in lighter shades of the same colors as the bedroom. I let Cedric help me dress for the evening meal, all the while contemplating on how I can rid the world of the heartless Beast that lives within the walls of this grandiose palace.

 

Reviews

[Lavorther]

I can't believe no one has reviewed this yet. You even have 44 views. How rude.

It's interesting you re-tell the same chapter from the perspective of another person. That's a bit unusual, but it works beautifully for this book. It helps to really get a solid grip of the locations and characters, and allows you to show things that would be impossible to do if you kept the same perspective throughout the whole book.

The descriptions and metaphors were spot-on. I nearly forgot i was supposed to review this at the end, it almost felt like i had picked up a book to read just for fun. That's really impressive. Also, i didn't find any of the mistakes i mentioned in my review of your previous chapter. Actually, i didn't notice any mistakes at all. Really impressive, keep up the good work!

[Emma]

Oh, thank you. :) You flatter me.
Yes, I felt by just writing one perspective so much important stuff would be missed. I might end up having to split it up into two books instead of one like I had originally planned, but that's ok.