In a kingdom by the sea,

In a county peopled with hale and hearty folk,

In a forest wreathed with sunlight and ivy,

Along a path forgot by all but storytellers,

Is a mass,

A thicket,

A tangle,

A brier of roses,

And beneath the roses is a castle long held in timeless sleep, but we care naught for that

(That is not true, wild one!) We do care, and so do you; it is why you are here.

You think it is why you are here.

I am Rosa perpetua – it means Unfading Beauty.

I will not tell you my name.

(Wild one, he must know.

Sweet, I owe him nothing.

But

He will not have my name!

He must have something.)

I am Bone-sucker, I feed on the marrow of dead men.

(Wild one!) We have grown as you see us an hundred years,

And we do not die.

We live in Unfading Beauty – I do.

We know others die within a season, within a month,

Within days, poor souls. To feel their petals wilt when scarce they had been unfurled

(Take heart, sweet.

Ah!)

We are not like them, we have lived an hundred years, seen the seasons change and change again, seen men in their youth caught, trapped, die. (Sweet, it is your turn.

Poor souls!

It is your turn, speak.)

We have seen death in many guises. In yellow leaves falling,

In brittle branches breaking,

In fetid smells rising,

In cold, white bones,

But not our own death, we do not die

We do not die.

I am Rosa perpetua – it means Unfading Beauty – and I am a guardian.

And I am a guardian.

To guard we must live,

We must live so long as our charge needs guarding,

So long as her dear soul sleeps we much watch and guard and live.

And we are judges.

We will judge your soul against our dear princess,

And find you wanting.

(We cannot know that yet.

We can guess – who is to say he is not like all the others?

I am.)

When I find you wanting, I will impale your heart – if you are lucky. Some men I find so brash so unworthy of our dear princess – how dare they seek her! I trap them, I snare them. I rend their flesh, expose their nerves, drink deep their scarlet blood. Sometimes they struggle as I play with them – I hope you will struggle.

(Wild one!)

I am Bone-sucker, I will feed on your cold carcass when I have sped your soul from its earthly prison. I am not the wild one for nothing.

But should you be not like the others

So many others, all dead.

Should I deem you good and gracious, safe passage I will give you to the castle. I will draw back my thorns and keep the wild one's thorns at bay.

(Sweet, you have never had to do so, who is to say you can?

Do you doubt me?

Yes.)

When the time comes, you shall pass. None shall stop me. You shall have our dear charge as your own. And we shall die, our task done.

We who had lived an hundred years shall die,

Our petals shall wilt,

Our leaves shall crumble,

Our thorns shall snap,

For one man,

For one man only,

We shall die.

(Sweet

I know.

Ah!)

So come Sir Prince,

Sir Rogue,

Sir Knight,

Sir Boy,

Step forth and be judged.

Unworthy.

Deserving.

Corpse.

Saviour.

The time is now.

Now is the time.

–Step forth–