The changed it has happened so fast. Our master, our King has transformed to a creature, a beast. The White Fairy. No, that White Witch she has cursed him.
Even his most loyal servants fear this change in him. The monster is too hideous to look. Only if she were to retract the curse will we all be saved, her judgement was too biased. She only saw the crueler side of our master. She has not felt his pain, or saw how it ate him. He just became monster because of the pain.
It is not a reason, I know, for a man to be so cruel. But who are we to judge, when we do not carry the burden he carries alone. She only appeals to one side, the side of that bitch, the one who betrayed my master. A dangerous enchantress from a foreign land, she captivated all even me. She is sin. Her smile roused even the most ruthless of men, making them tamed.
But that is all she will ever be, beautiful. I have seen her for what she is, an ambitious girl. Bewitching my master, she soared too high, far too high that the fall broke her neck.
Now dead she rots. Her beauty feasted by maggots. Never again, will she be able to beguile anyone with her smile. Ironic that she has left us with our salvation, the only creature in this palace the White Witch hasn't cursed. The boy, my Master's son with the enchantress. Who would have thought that even a Witch had a beating heart? For her to spare an infant until he turns into a man.
This infant boy who is now under my care. When he grows up, he'll free me and everyone from this damnation. He will do what I taught him to do being a tool of this household. Should he fail his duty to decapitate the White Witch head, then he will find himself curse. On his twenty fifth birth year will she return for him, to curse him as well and it will continue on to his sons and their sons until none shall itch of lust or love. Until no one is left to carry The Master's blood. The King of the Easter Isle.
A servant can only vent out his many frustration. I am his servant, confidant, but I am just human. At least I was. Uncontented the White Witch mocked us farther. She made sure none of us leave this wretched place. My Master's love for beautiful things had become our damnation. Such irony. When the sun sets, we are all turn to the many beautiful things that will compliment to the Master's taste. The Witch reasons, that a spectator is not without sin. Bravo. Indeed. Yes, we are guilty for spectating the murder of the Enchantress. And this curse is the punishment for our silence. But the servant's children, my children does not play any part in this hell. Yet she turned them into cherubs mounted on the wall. Asleep. Until the day the curse is broken.
I am Loth Bart the most loyal of my master's servants, keeper of the castle. Promises that the Witch shall pay for her crimes. No one shall ever forget this tale of beauty.
