Huh?

I shoot up, my heart pounding in my chest. I realize I’m sitting in a bed, draped over in a purple curtain that blocks my view of my surroundings creating a warm, dark box. Panic consumes me as I suddenly realize I’m not where I’m supposed to be… or where I think I’m supposed to be.

Last thing I remember was falling off the side of… something… but strangely nothing before that.

My head begins to ache at the thought of my last, fuzzy memory and I groan in discomfort.

Where am I? None of this is familiar. Everything feels so out of place.

I blink back the pain behind my eyes as they begin to tear up. I look down to see I’m lying in a large, king sized bed. Thick, dark purple covers are wrapped tightly around the rest of my body, barely tousled by my sudden rise.

“Prince Talen! You’re awake?”

A voice of a woman utters in surprise through the heavy curtains.

Prince Talen? Is that my name?

Suddenly, I realize I can’t even remember my own name. Or the fact that I was even a prince in my life. Shouldn’t I remember this? Being a prince sounds like an important thing to remember.

“My Prince?” She sounds confused, her shadowy, thin figure bleeding through the cloth.

The curtains shuffle open revealing a bright light that begins to boil my skin. The smell of burnt flesh rushes into my nose and I begin to gag and scream from the pain.

“Close it! Close it! It hurts!”

The curtains quickly close, allowing the intense burning sensation to dissipate.

“Oh dear,” the woman murmurs. “I must tell the king… this is terrible. Oh, so terrible…”

The woman’s feet clearly shuffled into the distance, leaving me with my own thoughts of confusion.

What was that about? And the light. It hurt me. Why?

I look down at my arms. They were a brown tint as if I sat in the sun for my whole life but deathly pale all the same like a cold corpse. The burning sensation I felt on my skin showed no signs of injury as I looked up and down my arms. Looking to my upper arm, close to my shoulders, I notice gray scales seemingly embedded into my skin.

What the hell is going on?

I observe my hands, hinting how big they are and with pointed nails to suit. So sharp that I was sure I’d be able to cut someone with them.

What is this? It’s almost like I’m out of a horror movie…

I really want to see a mirror to look at what else makes me not-human but I refrain. Outside of the curtain there is light which harms me. Do I really want to risk myself just out of my own curiosity?

Just to be sure I was not dreaming, because this sure as hell feels like one, I cautiously stick my index finger underneath the curtain next to me. Burning pain suddenly swells the tip of my finger and I yank it back with a yelp.

Well, that proves I’m not dreaming. How the hell did I get into this mess? Who am I?

“My king, I promise I didn’t mean to hurt him!” The familiar woman’s voice echoes through the curtain. I strain my ears to listen. “He’s… different. I think… he was cursed.”

Cursed? Cursed by what?

The stomping of feet as well as the clanking of metal becomes louder. I then hear a deeper voice mutter in response.

“My son was not cursed, I assure you. And didn’t I tell you not to step into his chambers? No one is allowed there but me!” Anger rises in what I can assume is the king’s voice. I wince at the harsh and threatening tone he uses.

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“I’m sorry, my king.” She sounds fearful. “I heard him shuffling in his room. He hasn’t woken in… months. I had to check on him to see if he was okay.”

“No, you didn’t have to do anything. You should have reported to me immediately!” He scolds. “I’m disappointed in you, Esmeralda.”

“You- you don’t mean…” she begins to stutter. “You wouldn’t!”

“Take her away.” He tells someone in the coldest voice I think I’ve ever heard.

“No! Please! I’m sorry!” Esmeralda cries. The anguish in her shrills strikes me cold. Her crying dissipates as I assume she’s dragged somewhere.

The clanking metal grows closer.

“Guard this room and don’t let anyone in.” He commands.

“Yes, my liege,” a muffled voice replies that I assume is someone guarding him.

Heavy footsteps as well as the slam of the door resonates through the curtains. I carefully trace the footsteps from in front of me to my left. There’s shuttering of heavy curtains as the already dim light grows darker.

“There, that should be better. I hope she didn’t hurt you too badly.”

I don’t respond, mostly because I don’t know this man who’s speaking to me now besides him being a king. A king of what? I don’t have a clue of his name either.

“How are you feeling, Talen?” He asks, his voice growing soft. A great contrast to the harsh tone before.

“Okay,” I responded in a surprisingly raspy voice. I begin to cough with a burning sensation in my throat.

“I’m sorry, I should let you rest.”

“I’m fine,” I try to reassure him through my fits. “You can stay.”

I need some answers anyway.

“Alright, my son.” He says in a tired voice.

I shift uncomfortably as my father, the stranger, refers to me as his son. It feels like a sick joke.

“I’m so happy you’re okay,” he continues. “It’s been forever since we spoke. Your mother and sister missed you dearly. We thought you wouldn’t make it.”

I frown, feeling bad for this man that I did not know. How could I put someone I barely knew through so much pain. Should I care?

I need to tell him the truth. If I don’t, I’ll end up lying and making things worse.

I clear my throat, but the hoarseness of it doesn’t seem to be leaving. “I’m sorry, father, but I don’t think I remember what happened. Or… who I am.” I wince at the last sentence, expecting an outlash but none come. It feels weird to refer to this man as father, but I’m only doing it for my own advantage. It’s better to play the part, right?

“Oh… oh. This is my fault, isn’t it?”

His fault? What?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

“All you need to know is that you’re my son.” He says in a confident voice, as if he’s coping with something. “Prince Talen of Trinity. I am your father, King Ravon. You have a mother who loves you and a sister, Ivyanne. You’ve been in a terrible incident that put you in a coma for more than two months.”

“An incident?” I ask aloud.

“Yes. I don’t know the details… but a woman who you trusted,” he spits the word out like it was poison, “cursed you. But do not worry, Talen. We took care of her.”

The last part worried me but I brushed it away. What really piqued my interest was being cursed. Cursed with what? Cursed to burn in the sun? Or something more?

“What was I cursed with?”

The king is silent for a few moments, as if he’s hesitating. “I… do not know, but we can figure it out together. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I let his words sit with me, still unsure about my situation. There’s nothing I can really do though. I can’t even escape my small prison because of the pestilence of the light.

“I have another question… Why did you tell that lady I was not cursed?”

“You heard that?” He sounds shocked. I almost regret asking him. “That was leagues away from this room.”

I clamp my mouth shut, wondering if that was truly a bad thing or not. By the surprise in his voice, I suppose it’s not good.

“Does that mean anything?

“Hmmm… I suppose it would mean this is more serious than just a memory wipe.”

I would’ve thought that as soon as the light burnt me.

“I will get a witch doctor to come in and see you. He would know more about this topic than any normal physician.”

“Okay,” I accept because that’s the only thing I can do.

“Anything else before I get to the doctor, my son?”

I swallow, “water?”

“Of course. I’ll be back. And some food. We have been tube feeding you. I bet you’re hungry.”

Surprisingly, no.

I can’t tell him that though. Two months is a long time and I even consider that suspicious and cause for concern.

“Yes, please. That would be nice,” I rasp.

“Right. I’ll bring a tray of your favorite when I come back.”

“Wait- father? Is it okay if I have a mirror? I want to see myself.”

“O- of course!” He begins to stammer. “But… uh, don’t be too shocked, okay? It’s a lot to take in.”

Sounds like it’s worth being shocked over.

“That’s fine,” I say.

It’s not but I want to see the damage… or what I consider as damage. Being cursed might mean anything. Maybe I have the head of a lizard or demonic features. Maybe they cursed me with an ugly appearance, if I was ever average or charming in the first place. By my “father’s” worrisome approach, I’m assuming it’s the worst case scenario.

A decently sized hand appears from behind the curtain. He holds a small mirror with purple plastic edges.

Whoever I was before must really like purple.

I feebly take it in my hand, noticing how awfully pale my arm is next to his. It seems I once was in the same shade as him but something made that drastically change. It’s scary to think about.

“Thank you,” I cough.

“You’re welcome. Now I must go grab that doctor now. I’ll be back soon.”

And with that, his footsteps fade with another slam of the door.

Now, let’s see what I’m working with here.

I hold the mirror up to my face. The only thing I seemed to notice was black and graying cascading down my shoulders. I sigh, just now thinking about the lack of light in the room. Since my father closed the curtains, I should have no problems peeking around the room for a light source.

I tentatively open the curtain to my right. Flinching, I’m greeted with a covered window. It’s tall, a dark curtain barely allowing light to pass through the broad frame. Next to my lofty bed is a night stand with, luckily, a small, purple, shaded lamp.

I reach over to touch it, noticing a small button on the side of it. The yellow, dim light blinks to life. I flinch back, expecting to feel a burning sensation but nothing happens. I allow myself to relax with a sigh. I turned my attention back to the mirror at hand and shuddered at the sight.

What am I…?