Prologue

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"It looks like your true love is in love with someone else!" 

-- Witch of the Waste


|||~S.F~|||




Prince Justin gazed out of the window of his study, one hand on his cheek and the other at the book he was holding. His thoughts, yet again, flew away like the startled birds that once perched on the church rooftops. They swayed with the wind, travelling far away where it will take it to a silver-haired maiden that held his heart for safe-keeping. Sophie had been the muse of his nighttime and daytime dreams, and it seemed clear that he was tragically in love with the one woman he cannot have in the entire kingdom-- no, the entire world. If only the one who stood by her and held her hand through the entirety of her troubles was him and not Howl. If only he was not cursed to become a scarecrow with-- of all things Sophie hated-- a turnip head.

Justin could only sigh out and close his forgotten book and its tales of aerodynamics.

At least he was the one turnip Sophie had taken a liking to. To be the subject of the woman's friendliness was enough to ease his bruised heart.

But it hurt like a hundred curses on his head when the woman he admired... the woman he adored for her grit and determination had thrown her arms around the wizard. It kept all of his composure as a gentleman to keep himself from snatching her away from Howl. When their feelings shone in their eyes as they gazed at each other, Justin knew he had lost completely. Though he was a friend to Sophie, He could never be anything more. He could and would not force his feelings on her.

And so he bid his farewell and left them in peace.

It had been a full year since the curses of her comrades were lifted. A full year of Howl and Sophie travelling to places and enjoying each other's company. Oh, yes, he knew as her closest confidant and penpal, he was subjected to read about her adventures, the places she had gone to, and the paragraph of how she wished he'd join them in one.

Justin tried to stop himself from reading the cream-colored letter that smelled faintly like her perfume but he hungered for her, of something from her, even if it was just a letter she sent in no particular date or time.

He was wasting away inside.

Soon, he will be 25, fit for the throne. And by then, he will have to get a wife of his own. But none of the ladies in court, nor the common folk have silver moonlight for hair, Kindness for eyes, and a smile so genuine and true it pierced any mask and any heart. Even Howl's.

He loved her so much, he could do anything for her.

Anything...

Even tinkering with her past and Howl's secrets.

Briskly, he climbed down the spiral steps towards the secret dungeon where the Kingdom's witch lived in silence since the war.


|||~S.F~|||



The Witch of Fate twitched from where she sat, rags and dirty old silks adorned her thin figure. Her old appearance startled Justin everytime he saw her, as she was only a few centuries older than Howl.

Though she had the power to keep herself young, none had contributed to maintaining her once rumored beauty.

"Prince..." Her hoarse voice called him the moment he stepped on the floors of her abode. She shuffled into the light of his torch with and twitched of her lips into a crooked smile. "What brings you here, when the war is over and done?"

"I should say the same to you, Madame Lise. We have guaranteed your freedom yet you still insist to stay."

"Oh, but you need me now, don't you? What would have happened if I left?" The elderly-looking witch hobbled to her bookcase and rummaged around her tomes. "It seems fate was in your favor this time, Prince Justin."

She took out a heavy book, decorated with symbols and skulls all around the spine but the front cover was nothing but a blank and aged purple shade. With her stick arms, she struggled towards her working table where potions for coughs, colds and one that will favor the sails of a ship littered about. A single dying candle aided her sight no more better than a match.

"This will answer all of your questions." She said as she placed the book down with a loud thump and opened the dusty book to a certain page casually, as if she had memorized the book.

As she gestured for him with a wave of her hand, he made his way to her side cautiously . His torch shed light to the page, which was entitled The spell of the past.

"I haven't even told you what ails me, Madame Lise." The prince looked at the witch suspiciously, to which she grinned, showing a teeth or two.

"Oh, your highness. I've known ever since you sighed in your window seat earlier. Now, let us get what we want, for we were patient people who never received our reward."

The small room began to tremble violently before he can question her words. Books fell from shelves and potion bottles shattered as their contents spilled all around the room. Justin held fast to a chair and, in panic, took the woman's shoulders to make their escape.

But as he turned her to face him, he almost jumped away at the sight of Madame Lise.

Her eyes were as lifeless as marble and shone bright with an unknown light. Her mouth kept chanting words, moving so subtly he would have missed it if he did not look carefully at her.

As long as he hides his filthy past

So shall this spell of torment last

Amongst the chaos, Justin wondered what got him into this mess. 

Jealousy? Hatred? Wanting  what did not belong to him? He couldn't recall now, for he could have sworn the end of the world has come. He should have never let his thoughts morph into something so ugly as making a witch chant a spell to tear a perfectly happy couple apart.

But before he could spill his regrets for Madame Lise to hear, his sight and mind were enveloped in black.

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