“Ho-Horys? Horace? Prince… guy?”

The prince is awakened by the roaring voice calling near him. He painfully sits up the best he can, engulfed in a thick bush. His restricted movements cause the leaves to ruffle, its sound giving out his position to the dragon. He sinks deeper in the bush, a gasp leaving his lips. The beast's large paw digs through the bush, close to his body, only for it to push the branches out of the way, revealing Azaïd’s broad face behind, staring down at him.

“You’re not dead?”

“I’m not easily defeated.” He responds almost impulsively. Azaïd grimaces at the response, oddly offended.

“Well good for you, Horace.” They lift their paw, the branch swinging back in the prince’s face. He quickly smacks them away, rolling out of the bush, while the dragon walks away.

“It’s Horus.”

“I don’t care.”

“I said I’d help you.” Horus insists, while searching through the vegetation for his sword.

“And you did, congratulations, you may go back to your kingdom now…” The beast responded in a falsely ceremonial tone, while the prince finally gets a hold on his lost blade, and trails behind them.

“What? No!” As he protests, a chilling thought ran through the prince’s mind. Could he even go back home? Would it still be home? Would he be welcomed back, or cast away? It doesn’t matter, for now… “I haven’t, you’re still a beast.” He argues.

“I have never been one.”

“You know what I meant. I said I’d help you break your curse.”

“You did enough damage to that life of yours, and I do not want you plaguing mine, so let us part ways already. You have done more than enough.”

“I haven’t, let me help.” Horus pleads again.

“Let it go…”

“Please, let me help.” His tone grows more desperate.

“How many times must I-”

“Azaïd, I’m begging you.” The dragon stops, turning to the hero. “I can’t go home… I have no friends, I’ve betrayed my family as well as my people… I don’t want to be alone, please, bare my company.”

Before the bigger creature could respond, a mocking giggle echoes through the forest, alarming the two. The hero and the dragon turn to the source of mockery. Horus recognizes the strange little girl with ease.

“You! Horus, Catch her!”

Horus blinks, confused by the beasts’ request, even more so by his connection with the girl. She took a step back as the hero stepped forward.

“Don’t make me turn you as well!” She threatens. Horus doesn’t take another step forward, glancing between the little girl and the bigger creature.

“You were the one to change him? Why?”

“I did no such thing. He is a beast, through and through, his heart is ugly, now so is he!” She chants

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“No he’s not.” Horus retorts, as if he knew Azaïd best, as if he knew anything at all.

“Is your heart actually pure, or is it corrupt with that crave for love and attention? Do you know how to fill the hole that caves through it? Or do you insist on serving others hoping gratitude will suffice? You call yourself a hero, but you’re a servant, that’s what you are.” She mocks.

“Why did you change him?” Horus insist, ignoring the little girl’s taunts.

“Why don’t you ask the beast?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about!” Azaïd chimes in.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, he says, so let him rot.”

“Little girl, please, would you break the curse?”

“Oh, I couldn’t even I wanted to. See, I’ve put on a lock I have no key to.”

“How do we find it?” Horus attempts, following the girl’s riddles.

“I have tried to tell him the way, he wouldn’t listen…”

“I’ll listen for us both.”

“Don’t you have any greater cause to defend, oh, you so-called hero?”

Before he could answer, Horus began to hear distant voices… He turns to Azaïd to confirm he too, heard them. Once they both have turned to where the sound came from, they notice a bunch of armored men, running in their direction. Horus immediately recognizes the royal guard emblem engraved in their chest-plate. The prince instinctively pulled out his own sword, prepared for battle, causing the group to momentarily slow down, only to then attempt to step around him cautiously. Each time, he’d step right in front of them, or swing his sword to push them back, preventing them from approaching Azaïd.

The dragon turns to the girl, only she was gone, having vanished into thin-air in a split second while the two were distracted. They turn back to the Prince, who was stepping side to side to block the guards’ way. They make no attempt to attack or forcefully make their way to their target. Azaïd takes a step back, and when the prince starts to attack the other men to push them further back, the dragon turns and attempts to take off… But he couldn’t gather enough strength for these new limbs of his to keep himself in the air. He quickly crashes back to the ground.

Meanwhile, Horus kept his position, preventing the guards from stepping any closer by ferociously attacking anyone who would attempt to get too close. He effortlessly fought, for he quickly came to realize none of them would dare to attack him in turn.

One of them did, once. He was quickly reprimanded, confirming what the prince had thought.

“Stand down! Do not hurt the prince, you mad man!”

“What are we to do, then?!”

Horus watches as the group talks to each other as if he wasn’t there, and they must have thought precisely that. They must believe him out of control, acting against his will, commanded by the beast… He doesn’t turn to check on Azaïd, because he wouldn’t want to lower his guard, and because he thought it wiser to let them think he has been enchanted. He’d clear the misconception once Azaïd would be free of his curse, he thinks. Deep in thought, the prince lost track of the guards’ conversations, their new hatched plan taking him by surprise; The group, instead of making an effort to walk around him like they previously did, started to charge him all at once, not to attack him, but to tackle him down. They’d shout at each other to take his sword, to keep him down. He had a weapon, and they had none, having dropped all of theirs to the floor before charging. But it was now much more difficult to fend off so many men at once. Soon, they began to push him down, one of them tugging to get the sword out of his hands, but he wouldn’t let go.

After another failed attempt to take flight, the dragon turns to the scene, alarmed to see the prince now on the ground, tackled by the five other men. When Azaïd attempts to call out to the prince, blaze shoots out of his mouth instead of words. Frightened, he takes a step back. The surrounding trees already wildly burning, as well as the dry grass, raising a wall of flames between the creature and the men. He could only hear screams, voices so scrambled together he couldn’t figure out if Horus’ was one of them…