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Truth or tale? One would question the story once they heard it; the tale of the beautiful woman who could steal a soul by touch. Would one find proof in the many men who sought out the castle, never to return? Or would it still be found too fantastical to be true? The only one to have returned alive, didn’t even step foot in the room. Yet, he swore that his eyes did not betray him and where he saw beauty – he also undeniably saw a beast.<br/>
<br/>
Thick hands gripped leather reins tight, the black horse whining and coming to a slow stop. The smell of savory dishes immediately hit Julian as he reached the small cottage he would be staying at in Elmhurst. He was making his way through to Yorkshire, where he was to meet with a Lord he would be serving. He was three days into his trip and by now, more than exhausted. He was not surprised by the quiet, finding that the homes he passed were spaced reasonably apart for a small community. As Lord Arthur stated, the people of Elmhurst were quiet folk. They were not shy about lending a hand, but for the most part kept to themselves. Julian preferred it that way. He grew tired of the overcrowded streets of other towns, the smell of manure strong enough to keep one from sleeping properly.<br/>
<br/>
He got off the horse, his feet digging into the earth from his weight, leaving deep footprints as he walked the horse toward the front door of the home. He could see a lit lantern, letting him know that the family he was to stay with were still awake. Julian was grateful, fearing that he wouldn’t make it on time due to a stretch of bad weather. His clothes were still wet from the rain, and while he could smell it in the air, it seemed the clouds had decided not to follow.<br/>
<br/>
He removed the black leather gloves he wore, reaching out to knock on the brown wooden door. Dark brown eyes caught the quick gaze of a gray haired woman in the window, before she and the lantern disappeared, only to reappear at the door. She was dwarfed by his presence, barely meeting beneath his ribcage, her movements slow as she squinted up at him.<br/>
<br/>
“You must be Julian,” she said. Julian nodded, a loose strand of dark hair falling in front of his face. “The stable is ‘round back. I’ll leave the back door open.<br/>
“Thank you,” he said. Hearing his voice aloud was quite strange in the silence, jarring almost. He led the steed through a gate, along a trail bordered by thick green bushes. They passed through a garden, blooming tomatoes and onions plentiful amongst other fruits and vegetables. He opened the stable to find another horse, peacefully munching on hay. After removing his bag, he patted the horse gently to encourage him to enter, before closing and locking it tight.<br/>
<br/>
He entered the home, Julian’s skin prickly at the sensation of warmth eating away at the cold.<br/>
“My name is Myrtha,” the woman said. He peeked his head around the arch entrance that separated the rooms, at dining table he noted a young man sitting.<br/>
“Titus,” the man said, standing to shake Julian’s hands. Julian nodded in his direction, taking a seat at the table. He quickly began to remove his boots, yearning to free his toes.<br/>
“Thank you for opening your home.” Julian said as he leaned back. Myrtha soon walked over, placing two bowls of thick wheat porridge before them. His stomach grumbled with excitement at the sight of the duck fat lingering at the top layer small pieces sprinkled throughout.<br/>
“Lord Arthur is a great friend. Though I trust you will learn of his character when you meet him,” she said with a smile, tucking a wispy strand of grey hair behind her ear. She placed a pitcher of mead on the table, wiping her hands on her apron before removing it. “Should you need me, I will be upstairs. Both cots are ready ‘round the corner for you two.”<br/>
“Thank you,” Julian and Titus said as they watched the older woman make her way up the stairs to her own sleeping quarters. He looked up, watching as she blew out the lantern and climbed into bed.<br/>
<br/>
Julian had no true desire to talk, much too consumed with hunger and desire to drink. Still, he wasn’t surprised by Titus’ curiosity and initiated a conversation. Many often were curious as to the journey of others.<br/>
“You’re a knight?” Titus asked. Julius lapped at the porridge in the corner of his lips, licking at them as he nodded.<br/>
“And you?”<br/>
“A little bit of everything,” Titus said with a wink. He was a young man, probably no older than twenty-years of age, though admittedly his freckled face gave him more of that boyish charm. “Don’t plan to stay very long, leaving tomorrow morning. Got a broad to see, in North Point.” Julian raised his brow. He had travelled this land plenty of times. There was nothing out that way from what he remembered.<br/>
“Where ye from?” Julian asked.<br/>
“Landow.”<br/>
“Pretty far a lady. Must be pretty special,” he reached for the small piece of bread, thick fingers gripping it tightly to sop up the last bits in his bowl. His hand reached for the wooden cup and pitcher, filling it to the top.<br/>
“You're joking. You don’t know about the maiden near the North? The sleeping beauty?” A small smile cracked upon his face.<br/>
<br/>
Of course Julian had heard the tale, but in bits and pieces. There was never any direct location for the soul sucking woman. Just like there was no other evidence to suggest she actually existed. Many knew the King did have a daughter, but it was said she had died from a tragic illness.<br/>
“Pulling my leg are you?”<br/>
“Not even. Cross my heart, I was given the exact way to the tower she’s been kept.” He patted his chest. “I hear she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. Just one kiss and she is yours forever.”<br/>
“I've yet to hear the story from a man who’s actually kissed her,” Julian countered. Titus snorted and rolled his eyes. “So, if these directions are true, what makes you think you’ll be the only one to survive?”<br/>
“I’ve always been lucky.” Titus said with a shrug.<br/>
“That’s tough land up there, you’d have to get through the lake up the road. You got a horse?” Everyone knew that the Black Lake was a hassle to get through on your own. You needed at least the strength of three men, tied together to fight against the current and safely get your horse on the other side. Which was why Julius would rather go around to be safe. Something told him, Titus didn’t have that idea in mind.<br/>
“Just me, rode in with a family down the road. Like I said, I’ve always been lucky.”<br/>
<br/>
Perhaps his luck had run out. Julian left the next morning, and by the afternoon, he spotted the familiar coat of the young man, hanging on an outstretched branch. In the far distance, he could make out his body. Julian already knew he was dead. He got off the horse and slowly made his way over. He dragged the body out of the water, staring down at the young boy. Julian closed his eyes. He retrieved the coat and laid it over him, bending down to say a prayer.<br/>
<br/>
His eyes looked toward the paper, sticking from the pocket and miraculously still dry. It wasn’t completely out of his way, but it was an unnecessary detour. Still, he had to admit that he was curious. He folded the paper up and placed it in the small pocket of his pants before walking with the horse and making his way toward North Point.</div></span>