The Lost Prince

5 - The Truth

A frantic rapping echoed through the quiet evening, shattering the peaceful atmosphere emanating from Quirin's cozy cottage. Varian, engrossed in a complex contraption of gears and springs, jumped at the sound, his brow furrowing in confusion. He glanced at Lashanie, who sat curled up with a book by the fireplace, her own brow raised in surprise.

The pounding came again, more insistent this time. Varian exchanged another bewildered look with Lashanie before setting down his tools and heading towards the door.

He flung it open, revealing a harried-looking Eugene clutching a small bundle wrapped in a familiar purple cloak. Maximus stood patiently behind them, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a weary calmness.

"Eugene?" Varian stammered, his voice laden with confusion. "What are you doing here? And who..." He trailed off, his gaze falling on the bundle in Eugene's arms.

Eugene stepped forward, his face etched with worry. "Varian, thank goodness you're here. It's Rapunzel," he said, his voice tight with emotion.

A flicker of fear shot through Varian, replaced by a surge of protectiveness. "Rapunzel? What's wrong?"

Before Eugene could answer, a tiny whimper escaped from the bundle. Curiosity piqued, Varian gently nudged Eugene's arm, his gaze pleading. Eugene, with a heavy sigh, carefully unwrapped the cloak.

Varian's breath hitched. There, in his arms, sat a small child with a mop of golden hair and wide, tear-filled eyes – Rapunzel, shrunk to a fraction of her size and clearly distressed.

Varian's mind raced. Andrew? A curse? His heart pounded against his ribs like a trapped bird.

"She's... she's back to being a child," Eugene said, his voice thick with despair. "Andrew did something to her. Her mind... it's like it regressed."

Lashanie, who had silently approached them, gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She knelt before the tiny princess, her face overflowing with concern.

"Varian," Eugene continued, his voice low and urgent. "The Queen... she thinks you might be able to help. You and Lashanie, with your studies and... well, your... stuff." He gestured vaguely to the strange contraptions scattered around the workshop.

Varian understood. Their unconventional methods, their knowledge gleaned from the Brotherhood's cryptic scrolls, might be their only hope. He looked at Rapunzel, the little girl whimpering softly in Eugene's arms. Fear gnawed at him, but it was overshadowed by a fierce determination.

He wouldn't let Andrew win. He wouldn't let Rapunzel suffer. With a deep breath, Varian straightened his shoulders, his voice ringing with newfound resolve.

"Bring her in, Eugene," he said, ushering them into the warm glow of the cottage. "We'll figure this out. Together."

Lashanie, ever the pragmatist, added, "First things first, let's get her comfortable and calm. Then, we talk."

As Eugene settled Rapunzel on a makeshift bed of blankets and pillows near the fireplace, Varian felt a surge of gratitude for his unconventional life. He may not have been a knight in shining armor, but with his strange knowledge and an unshakeable determination, he was ready to face this new challenge. He would do whatever it took to break the curse, to bring Rapunzel back, and to face Andrew's darkness with his own newfound light. The journey ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty, but with Eugene by his side and Lashanie's calm presence grounding him, Varian knew he wasn't alone. They would fight for Rapunzel, for their kingdom, and for the hope that still flickered in the twilight.

Quirin ushered Varian into a worn armchair by the fireplace, his hand resting heavily on his son's shoulder. The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows on the walls as Quirin began his long-overdue confession.