Quick A/N: Something I forgot to tell in the last chapter guys, stupidly even AFTER I had to revise some typos. This story, like my others, is musical based, so that is why the descriptions of the objects are basically those of humanoid ones, k? Just wanted to let you all know. My love and thanks to the reviewers and the workshop, I love you all! For now, everyone enjoy the guest appearance epilogue and the final tale of Prelude!

Epilogue

Three months later…

Any journey through the Black Forest was never one to look forward to, but nonetheless, Lucien de Bontecou insisted on making it. Already half way through March, and still not one New Year's prank from Lumière; that alone should have been a sign that something was not right. His friend never forgot the annual exchange. When Lucien wrote to see if all was well, and Lumière did not respond, Lucien's concern only grew, deciding that he had to see for himself what was wrong.

Inside the moving carriage, Lucien pulled his coat tightly around him. Despite the warmer weather, there was a chill in the air at night, making the forest even more unwelcoming than it usually was. In the distance, he saw a pack of wolves eyeing the carriage, picking up the scent of visitors to their territory. One wolf, apparently the leader, dangerously narrowed its seemingly glowing yellow eyes at him, as if warning the travelers to turn around and leave. It was enough to send a shiver down Lucien's spine; thankfully they were almost there.

But suddenly, without warning, the carriage halted, and Lucien climbed out to see what the cause was.

"Alphonse?" he said to his driver. "Why have we stopped?"

"Pardon, Monsieur le Vicomte," the old man replied, examining the gate. "There are no locks on it, but it will not budge!"

With Alphonse's help, Lucien put all his strength into an attempt to force the gate open, but still, it would not do so. Not a good thing, he realized, for not far behind them, the wolf pack had followed, each member growling menacingly. The wolves had not taken kindly to the strangers, and they obviously planned to make this perfectly clear as they prowled towards Lucien and Alphonse.

Immediately, the carriage horses began pawing their hooves on the ground, whinnying in discomfort by the wolves' presence. Lucien and Alphonse quickly gave the gate one last strong shove, to which it surprisingly flew open as if light as a feather, and the pair fell onto the castle grounds. Jumping up quickly to grab the anxious horses' reins, the men pulled them inside before racing to shut the gate. Just in time as well, for the moment they did, the wolves pounced to attack, stopped only mere inches away from them when the gate was closed.

Lucien let out a relieved breath before turning to his driver. "Are you all right, Alphonse?" he asked, concerned. "Not hurt, are you?"

"Non, monsieur, I am fine," Alphonse assured him. "They simply gave me a fright."

Lucien nodded, turning to the castle's entrance, but stopped short at the sight before him. The few times he had gone there over the years, he knew that it had never looked anything like it did now, even in the darkness. Vines climbed the walls, and in the place of the ever-present angel statues now stood those of odious monsters. The grounds were silent, unnatural considering the fact that there were normally various servants about, but now the palace seemed deserted. Nonetheless, a faint light near the doors signaled that people had to be inside.

"Perhaps this is not a good time for a visit," Alphonse muttered quietly, but Lucien shook his head in disagreement.

"This will not take long," he said. "I am certain that his highness will understand. Tie up the horses, and then meet me back here."

Alphonse did as he was told before rejoining his master, and the pair entered slowly, finding the doors shockingly unlocked. Inside, the castle was just as uninviting as its new façade. What in the world had happened to it? If the atmosphere had been at least a little bit pleasant, Lucien would have made it a point to scold Babette teasingly for her lack of responsibility, but this was no laughing matter. The rugs were worn and dusty; cobwebs were everywhere in sight. They could not duck their heads low enough or lift their feet high enough to avoid them. And as with the statues outside, those in the hallways had also been changed to hideous creatures.

Lucien cautiously glanced into each room and hall they had passed, but apparently, the castle was indeed deserted. A few times he could have sworn he heard voices, gasps, the scuffing of shoes or sweeping of skirts, but it must have been ghosts. There was no one to be found anywhere.

As they approached one remaining staircase, Lucien stopped hesitantly, remembering a previous visit when Lumière had informed him that this led to the prince's chambers. No one was allowed to enter the wing without being summoned, but Lucien, while never one to blatantly disregard the prince's wishes, deemed it necessary to do so. Therefore, gesturing Alphonse to follow, Lucien climbed the forbidden stairs. At the end of the corridor, he knocked on the doors, but received no answer.

"Do you really think this is wise, monsieur?" Alphonse asked, obviously uncomfortable with his master's decision.

"For the sake of the search, I daresay it is," Lucien replied, pulling on the door handle slowly.

Inside, the men were shocked at what they found. Despite a beautiful rose at the center of the room, what was expected to be a room fit for royalty was a disastrous sty! Furniture was overturned; bed cloths torn to shreds. On the far wall was a portrait of Vincent that had been…clawed? Considering the odd angles of the slash marks, Lucien could have sworn an animal of some kind had ripped it apart.

Behind him, Alphonse pointed to the floor, crying out, "Monsieur le Vicomte, look!"

Lucien took a fearful step backwards at the sight: gray, gnarled bones strewn about the floor near the bed. Someone…no, something, was in the castle, and God knows what else it could have done.

Unfortunately, it did not take long for them to find out exactly what that "something" was…

Noticing Alphonse cringing in horror as he stared over his master's shoulder, Lucien asked, "Alphonse? Alphonse, what is it?"

The poor man was too petrified to utter a sound. With a trembling hand, he pointed at something behind Lucien. When Lucien turned around, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened as he looked into the face of a terrifying beast!

"What are you doing here?" the creature growled, coming towards them on all fours before towering over them on its hindquarters like a man. "What do you want?"

Lucien had never considered himself a coward, but the sight of such an unbelievable monster was enough to change that consideration for now. At ten feet tall when standing on its wolf-like legs, it was more fearsome and intimidating than a bear, with sharp horns and the wickedest-looking fangs Lucien had ever seen!

Terrified, Lucien's voice shook as he spoke. "W-what…what have y-you done to the prince?"

The Beast's eyes narrowed on the torn portrait before he covered his face, as if ashamed.

"The prince?" he growled, but anger flashed in his eyes as he reared his head moments later and roared. "The prince is dead! Unless you wish to join him, I suggest you get out!"

The men held their ground for a minute, petrified, which only enraged the Beast more as he took the action as defiance.

"I said get out! Now! Leave me alone!" he shouted, smashing a chair to splinters with his massive paw.

That was all it took to snap the pair out of their stunned state of mind. If the creature could destroy a chair in one swipe, they did not want to find out what he could do to a man.

Racing down the stairs, the Beast's roars resounding in their ears, Lucien said breathlessly, "We must get home and send for help! Who knows what that monster is capable of if he lives? He must be destroyed!"

Once they reached the foyer, Lucien felt his feet fly out from underneath him as he tripped, his face harshly greeting the floor as he fell. Trying to rise, he heard a familiar voice whisper, "Leaving so soon?" Turning to see who it was, Lucien gasped as he found a cloaked Lumière waiting for him.

"Monsieur le Vicomte, we must hurry!" Alphonse shouted behind him, causing Lumière to hide in a small corridor, his expression pleading for silence.

Lucien's brow furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless, he nodded discreetly before he called out, feigning pain, "Go on, Alphonse! I will get there as fast as I can! Do not worry about me!"

With obvious hesitation, Alphonse did as he was told, leaving Lucien to follow Lumière into a dark sitting room.

"What on earth is going on here?" Lucien asked, cutting right to the chase. "If this is your idea of a prank, I bow down at your feet and beg you to stop! I have had enough after first seeing that…that…THAT, and now I have no idea why you do not want to be seen!"

Lumière pulled the cloak around himself tightly, self-consciously. "Trust me, mon ami, I wish this was only a prank."

"Then what is it?" Lucien persisted.

Lumière took a deep breath. "This will be a terrible shock to you. But you must believe what you see; I swear this is not a trick."

"Lumière, after what I just saw upstairs, nothing will ever shock me again."

Lumière sighed. "I would not say that just yet," he said, letting the cloak fall as he lit his newfound candle hands. Reaching to light the fireplace, he turned to glance at Lucien, who, as expected, was stunned.

Lucien instinctively retreated a few steps. He knew he was looking at his friend, but at the same time, someone...no, once again, some thing...completely different. If he had not seen the Beast just moments ago, Lucien would have thought Lumière was wearing a masquerade costume that much resembled the unlit candelabra on the table. Lumière's clothes had turned to solid metal, his face pale and hair turned white, as if made of wax. Most noticeably, his hands were gone, and in their place were two sconces holding brightly lit candles.

Lumière could only offer him a half-hearted grin at Lucien's bewilderment. "Told you so," he added.

"Oh mon Dieu," Lucien muttered, eyeing his friend fearfully. "What in hell happened to you? To this entire castle?"

In a fraction of the time it took to occur, Lumière told him in great detail about what had happened on Christmas Eve. The enchantress, the transformation, and the ultimatum she had set. Lucien could only shake his head in disbelief; this was unreal!

"Madness," he said when Lumière finished. "Utter madness…"

"I know it is," Lumière replied. "But I have never been more sane in my entire life, you know that. What I have said is the truth, I swear on my parents' graves."

"And all of you have become…things?" Lucien asked. "Even…?"

Lumière nodded. "Even her."

"What object is she?"

Lumière could not help smile, mildly amused in spite of the situation. "A feather duster; quite appropriate, I think."

Lucien mirrored his expression. "Where is she now?"

Lumière shook his head. "I guarantee you, she will not show herself. Babette has…not grown accustomed to this just yet, so to speak."

There was an uncomfortable silence, humor not easing the matter at hand as Lumière had intended.

Lucien then offered reassuringly, "Mon ami, if there was anything I can do to help, you know I will."

"I know," Lumière responded sadly. "But there is little that can be done, except pray."

"I will, every day and night." Lucien thought for a moment before he asked, "What shall I tell everyone at home?"

"Nothing," Lumière answered sharply. "Even if there was anyone worth telling, you can not say a word of this to anyone."

"But what will people think?"

"Missing, dead, I do not care," Lumière insisted. "For once, I am grateful that my father passed away last year, leaving no one to worry about me."

"But there are others with family, Lumière," Lucien said. "There must be some way we can let them know their loved ones are at least alive."

Lumière shook his head. "No, you must swear to me that you will say nothing, Lucien; neither you nor Alphonse can tell another soul about anything you have seen. Do what you must, but for all the times I have lied for you, you must now do the same for me."

"But…"

"Think of it this way," Lumière interrupted. "If you do, you might as well have sentenced us to death. If we did not have this chance to talk, what would you have done? Ordered armed men to kill the master? One word gets out that a monster has taken over the prince's castle, and mobs will be at our doorstep. If he dies, then there is no chance for our survival. No one can know about this, Lucien; swear to me, as my most trusted friend, that neither of you will repeat this to anyone."

Lucien sighed. Lumière was right after all, and thus, Lucien unwillingly agreed, "Très bien, you have my word."

As both friends reached to shake in agreement, they suddenly retracted hand and candle in saddened realization of the danger in their action, merely deciding on a nod instead.

"Give Nicolette my best…somehow, I mean," Lumière said quietly.

"Likewise to Babette," Lucien replied as Lumière promised he would. Lucien then turned about to leave before glancing at his friend one last time. "I will send Alphonse with any news from the château, for some sense of sanity if any."

"I would appreciate that, very much," Lumière answered with a grin.

"Just promise me one thing," Lucien asked.

"Name it."

Lucien took a deep breath. "You will never give up hope, comprends? Ever. Fight through this and take care of yourself and the others. You are my best friend, my brother even, and it would take a lot more than a spell to end that."

Lumière could only nod, because for once in his life, he was speechless.

And that being said, Lucien left the castle, his heart saddened despite his words of encouragement. For he realized then that their lives may never be the same again.

ooo

The mysterious loss of the crowned prince Vincent and his entire staff was a great shock to all of France. For some time, Auguste had ordered numerous searches, but each one failed to provide any explanation. Some of the men had never reached the castle, thanks to the unusual increase of wolf packs. Others had returned with no memory of what they had seen, and whatever evidence they had found to remind them had vanished from their sacks without a trace.

By the end of the year, the young prince and his servants were officially proclaimed deceased, and the disappearance soon became a forgotten legend, the abandoned castle in the Château Mountains being the only testament to their existence.

The End