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Chapter 13

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At the promise of light within darkness, the child’s disposition brightened once more. “Was she an ethereal beauty? Did she sequester herself high in an Ivory spire releasing only her cascades of hair through the window betwixt stone and sky? Were there monsters to fend off? Did his heart plunge into an abyss of adoration at mere sight of her?”

“The edifice loomed, an ominous shade of brown,” whispered the dwarf, his voice tinged with something dark, “hewn from brownstone itself. Nay, she cast no golden tresses below, nor did serpents guard her; instead, the portal stood ever ajar—an unsettling invitation to a path deceptively clear. Yet beneath that veneer of openness, she radiated an allure that ensnared him. Ah, indeed! Her gaze was disarmingly gentle, her cheeks the pallor of deathly fear, and her locks a cascade of midnight; all aspects of her being were beguilingly tender and sinisterly enticing—

“And so this dwarf, ensnared by her charms, sought her hand in matrimony. Predictable as it is with such tales. For ages uncounted—or so it felt—he scarcely permitted himself the dream that she could harbor affection for his grotesque form. He would have been satiated—overwhelmingly grateful—to merely bask in friendship’s shadowy corner, to occasional grasp her hand and have her semblance of a smile intoxicate his being like a bitter draught. But—those eyes, treacherously soft—and with such deceitful looks bestowed upon him—that he implored her—”

“Halt not in your telling! One must press on relentlessly when weaving narratives!” chided the interjector.

“Where had my narrative strayed?” The dwarf’s glance fell upon the child; eyes filled with an insidious glaze peering into some eldritch distance beyond her innocence. “Pray tell, Snow-white?”

“He beseeched her for union!” the child interjected eagerly. “And she spurned him saying nay, she’d partake in no such folly; her destiny was entwined with a handsome Prince that—with—”

“Forgive me, Snow-white; your innocence has misled you this time. Her reply was laden with false affirmations. She gazed through him with eyes as deceiving as still water, professing love’s poison sweetly upon him. She echoed—the serpents’ tongue his mother may have used; and the dwarf, blinded by love’s facade or sheer ignorance, took solace in her lies.”

The child erupted with mirthless laughter. “How credulous must he be? But unquestionably she scoffed at such a bond!”

“Undoubtedly not. Yet delusion led him to believe in their doomed union; hence he erected an abode,—shall we adorn it ‘palace’, Snow-white? Perhaps equally grandiose to the vacuous halls of royalty. Nonetheless, it stood as the pinnacle of his toil. Laden it was with objects,—what manner? Ahh... paintings consumed by shadows and sculptures born from nightmares; drapes heavy with the sorrow of ages—and yes, accursed silver and gold and heaps of gemstones: plentiful enough to invoke envy in voracious spirits; he dispatched couriers to distant lands for silks woven from sorrow and satins imbued by darkness—and shawls,”

“Such as this enshrouding me?”

“Precisely so. His intent? To ensconce this lair with all worldly desires that could ensnare a heart; so upon whimpering for any trinket or bauble, he could present it saying, ‘Behold what sacrifices were made for thee, my Beloved.’

“And thus lingered the dwarf amidst his laborious hoarding of grim treasures in due stereotypical fashion; visiting the Princess daily under false bliss until their wedding drew nigh—that is until—one cataclysmic day—”

“The Prince has arrived!” the young girl shrieked, her body vibrating with glee as she rhythmically beat her tiny hands together. “Now, it’s my turn to weave the tale, Mark. May I commence? Indeed, the Prince emerged from the shadows, a towering figure imbued with an enigmatic allure—a cascade of golden locks and eyes like fragments of the sky. His wealth dwarfed that of the dwarf’s meager trove, igniting a conflagration of passion within the Princess at their very first glance. Their hearts intertwined in an instant; he declared her his sovereign of love, and she embraced him as her destined suitor. Is that not how it unfolds, Mark?”

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“Exactly!” croaked the dwarf through gritted teeth. “My own words would pale in comparison, Snow-white; they may have failed to capture it entirely. The Prince possessed greater fortunes, a visage that ensnared the eyes, and youth on his side—and in such tales, those attributes dictate fate. They are ever decisive, no?”

“And what of the dwarf’s fate, Mark?”

“Do we ever ponder the remnants of a consumed wick once the candle’s glow has perished? The significance lies with dwarfs just as little. Our story concludes its chapter with nuptial joy—the quintessential ‘forever basked in euphoria.’ Does that not ring true?”

The child furrowed her brow in contemplation.

“Indeed,” she concurred after a moment’s musing. “Yet perceive this narrative through a fresh lens, Mark. The conventional sage commences with our damsel and traipses through her chronicles; upon these stages does our dreadfully vile dwarf encroach before being usurped by our valiant Prince—but this chronicle entwines with the heartstrings of the dwarf from its genesis.”

“And what bearing does that hold, Snow-white? Who amongst us harbors empathy for a mere dwarf?”

“Ah! Should the story be his own odyssey, Mark—yet how obtuse you stand! The customary villains now fade into oblivion; this tale exposes a kindred dwarf—a beacon amidst darkness. Was he your mirror image, Mark?”

“In semblance—maybe faintly so.”

“And then he emerged as a creature of gentleness, and my heart was ensnared by his presence,” whispered the child as her arms encircled the dwarf in a constricting embrace; pulling away, she peered into his eyes.

“It dawns upon me,” she murmured, “that perhaps I harbor deeper affection for you than for any prince. Might it be so?”

In the dwarf’s eyes dwelt a profound sorrow as he regarded her. Gently disentangling her grasp, he sighed. “Alas, Snow-white,” he uttered in solemn tones, “I am not convinced such a thing could transpire.” He paused before continuing, “Regarding the other dwarf, there’s little to be divulge. He relinquished her from his binding spell, what they term ‘freedom’ in ancient lore, then he sealed the grand manor and vanished into the unknown.”

“Whither did he wander?”

“To every conceivable corner of the earth, or close enough. He roamed ceaselessly, encountering bizarre realms and faces. And yet, his spirit was untouched by all; ultimately realizing that only one elusive land beckoned him — the undiscovered country.”

“How did he sense its presence, Mark? And where might it lie? In realms ‘East o’ the Sun and West o’ the Moon,′ whispered by crones of yore?”

“In part; stories from his mother kindled such desires within him. As a youth he gave them no heed—never spared them a thought. But weariness now gripped him; nothing held meaning anymore. Thus spurred by despair, he yearned to seek out this virgin territory—if reality it was—and peradventure reunite with his mother if her tales held any truth.” A shadow passed over his face as he added hastily, “Did I mention she had crossed to the beyond? It is so! Nevertheless—now is not for mourning. Henceforth, armed with an object akin to a key—an artifact to unlock this realm—he found himself at an abode resembling ours here. Seeking solitude, Snow-white. To dwell in contemplation—gather scattered wits and weave his fragmented existence into something akin to harmony. Then perchance permitted entry—with hopes of carrying those threads beyond—he could confess to his mother—he could justify himself—he could impart—”

“Mark,” interjected the child solemnly.

He jerked upright, staring down at her. “What thoughts stir within you, Snow-white?”

“I am convinced,” she stated with conviction, “that the tale you spin teems with convoluted shadows and cryptic riddles beyond comprehension—I grasp not a syllable of your words and suspect neither do you.”

“Indeed I do not,” agreed Mark somberly. “It seems our narrative need not delve further; what becomes of one so cursed matters none. Shall we emerge to offer sustenance to the winged creatures of night?”

“Let us proceed,” decreed the child in agreement.

The query that loomed over the shadowed courtroom was none other than, “What comes now?”