Chapter Text
Magic is a crutch; stronger than a cane.
Even in this world, spells and unctions confound me. My walls are leaved in words that grant richness and longevity. My meals dressed in purple potions; my skin steamed under hot smoke that smooths out the wrinkles and carries my mind to infinite knowledge. I am surrounded by hearts that beat outside of their chests, and bodies that can move from place to place with a snap. You need no love, no legs, when magic is your servus. And then, after you have all the gold coins, the talismans, the endless luxuries you could ever desire... you find somebody who is more powerful than magic. You discover a single set of vital organs and the right chemicals, and they can perform miracles without a whisper or a drop from the vial.
Ma Belle.
There is no magic stronger, or more pure, than speaking Belle's name to her.
Magic comes with a price. Mortality comes with a risk. You always have a choice with magic: you can harness it, or you can let it pass you by and refuse its consequences. When it comes to loving another, you do not have a choice. Even if you bar your heart from her, lock her in a cell, or live a world apart, you have not chosen not to harness her. She lives, even more persistently, within your flesh. You are never free from the risk that your body chooses for you. And you have no control when it comes to confronting that risk. It is not your decision whether or not your body ends up broken.
Whether a cup ends up shattered on the ground.
Belle doesn't remember me.
Incantations on my lips, and she rejects my kiss.