To give herself time to think and simply try and process what she’d come up with, Amber spent a large bit of time holed up in the study hall.  While Donghae and Jonghyun continued to brace the door, she turned the tables over, set chairs to rights, and tried to fix as many of the shelves as she could.  If nothing else, it kept her busy and gave her places to set the books so they wouldn’t be on the floor.  It wasn’t as if they could help her, since she couldn’t cast anything in them, but they could give her some kind of explanation.  At least once she knew more about what she was dealing with.

                When she’d put a sufficient dent in the process, Amber finally paused and regarded the door.  Youngwoon and Hyukjae weren’t exactly useful to her with the lifting and the sorting but they were good if silent company.  The other two had the same problem.  No one else had hands and she wasn’t entirely sure how functional they were beyond moving around.  To be fair, she hadn’t asked and it was likely they had never had much reason to try.  The beast was frightening at the best of times, never mind when he was angry.

                A couple times, she heard him roar from somewhere in the castle but after confirming where she was, he didn’t seem very interested in checking on her.  Which was fine by Amber, in all honesty.  But she couldn’t very well stay in that one room forever.  Oh, she wouldn’t die on her own.  In the amount of time that had passed, she had neither felt hungry nor thirsty and all other normal functions appeared to have stopped as well.  Amber doubted she would even need sleep but taking the nap, or whatever it had been, had made her feel considerably better.

                But… that reality did beg the question.  “Does the beast actually need to eat?” Amber wondered aloud, twisting to the left and right thoughtfully.  If he didn’t, then by all rights, that should throw the first theory about her father out the window.  And that still left her with the problem of where he would be if that thing wandering the halls wasn’t him.  Or Seungho.  “Regardless, we’ve gotta go searching,” she exhaled in resignation.  Facing the beast again did not make her happy, but it was what she would need to do.

                She could feel her companions’ dislike of the idea as well, but she was already thoroughly tired of this room.  Not to mention, she couldn’t quell her incessant need to know.  “You can stay here if you want,” Amber admitted, though she would rather they come with her.  “But I’m going,” she nodded, wiping the sweat off her palms nervously.

                Youngwoon and Hyukjae crowded around her feet.  Jonghyun and Donghae picked themselves up with hesitation evident.  All four of them hovered near Amber, apparently concerned but equally frightened in turn.  She took a breath and nodded in understanding.

                “Just… stay behind me, alright?” she shrugged with mixed feelings about the idea.  The beast hadn’t attacked her but neither did she enjoy the idea of being the shield.  She’d already felt his claws once.  Amber did not relish the idea of doing so again.  Retrieving her club, which felt all too useless in her hands, Amber determinedly set out to continue exploring.

                Through the course of trial and error, she discovered very early on that if she didn’t try to attack the beast, he would generally leave her alone.  She also noticed that, while the beast wouldn’t outright attack her when she was near the study hall, her room or her father’s room, he became much more aggressive if she even attempted to approach the room he most often retreated to.  One such attempt left her with a splintered club and ended with Donghae being torn apart when he tried to protect her from the creature’s anger.

                Amber fled back to the haven of her room with the other three and stayed there until she felt safe again.  Fortunately, Donghae did recover some time later and they were able to regroup with him when he was stuck in the hallway after Amber emerged again.  Curiously, she noticed the beast always regarded her with much more passivity when she came from her room first.  It was a trait she put away in her mind for future reference if she needed.  Somewhat blocked off, her explorations took her back to the first floor where she finally discovered her home.  It was on the right side of the castle, opposite the garden essentially.

                Pulling the door open, she laughed and smiled broadly upon seeing the almost forgotten but still familiar sight.  “Home,” she sighed as she walked in, shadowed by her perpetual companions.  When she reached the table, she traced her fingertips over the place where they’d all shared so many meals together.  If she closed her eyes, she could still see her father sitting on one end, Changsun and Seungho in their brown robes sitting opposite each other, and the last chair for her.  The fireplace was long since cold and the pot was quite clean.

                But when she stood up and moved over to the kitchen counter, she stopped, her breath catching in .  It was the basket she’d used the day she had gone to Karith.  She hadn’t actually put it away since she thought she might be using it again soon.  Swallowing the fear that welled up from her memories, Amber moved closer and peered inside.  Empty.  “That’s right,” she whispered, going over it in her head.  She’d set it down and emptied it out.  Youngwoon had given her a treat of some kind that day.  And she was waiting for the boys to get done.

                She had intended on baking something later.  That was why she’d kept it out.  She had thought they’d come down for lunch and disappear for the rest of the afternoon.  Instead, Seungho and her father had disappeared entirely.  Frustrated, Amber grabbed the basket and threw it across the kitchen with a muted cry.  It hit the wall with a broken sound, wood bending under her anger, but she froze upon hearing a startled growl.

                The beast stood in the doorway.  His body was outside yet, but he blocked the entrance and was currently staring at the basket with his fur riled.  When nothing happened after a few breaths, he appeared to relax and look back at Amber once more.  She her lips and stepped back, carefully putting the kitchen table between her and him.  Large ears twisted her direction and then back again.  The beast’s eyes darted to the tools near her, narrowing slightly, but then came back to rest on Amber, unblinking.

                Amber grabbed her necklaces for courage and whispered, “What do you want?”  Ears flicked again and the upper lip twitched.  For the briefest of moments, it felt like the beast was going to say something.  But then it was shattered and he backed out with a disgruntled huff.  Amber let out the breath she’d been holding and leaned hard against the counter, careful to avoid pressure on her back.  “I don’t know what he wants.  What am I supposed to do?” she exhaled, chewing her bottom lip.

                No answer came to her and she was left to try and puzzle it out herself again.  Confounded, she scoured her old home for anything useful.  Other than foodstuffs that were strangely well kept, there was also a cutting knife and then the usual assortment of things that should be there.  For whatever reason, this room had been left untouched as well and that was another clue to the puzzle.  Amber knew she really needed to see the casting hall and the boys’ room to get a final thought but it was certainly a large coincidence that the two places she spent so much time in were unscathed.  She was still trying to figure out the study hall situation, since she had spent many marks there as well, but one thing at a time.

                Time continued to pass, as near as she could tell, but how many days Amber couldn’t say.  She only knew that her back continued to heal, the wound on the beast got better and better, and he didn’t seem to mind her as much as time went by.  He still wouldn’t let her into his room.  Instead, he seemed to shadow her more often than not, apparently just as puzzled by her as she was by him.  With no better idea of who or what he was, but fairly sure he wasn’t going to hurt her anymore, Amber started talking to him.  Or at least speaking in his general direction.

                The villagers were lost whenever she spoke about any of her thoughts or theories and their confusion was frustrating, but the beast merely listened.  She watched his ears flick back and forth, catching the sounds of her words as they fell from her lips.  For endless marks or maybe it was only breaths at a time, she spoke of what had happened.  She talked on and on about her father, her mother, Seungho, and Changsun.  Sometimes, she would ramble off lists upon lists of ingredients and magical history and what the combination of reagents would accomplish.  And that was only in the beginning.

                Whenever she searched the tower for the missing room, the beast padded after her.  At a distance at first, following by scent and staying out of sight, but then closer and closer.  When she headed back into the village, he did the same; always staying at a distance, watching warily, but there nonetheless.  The villagers didn’t know what to think.  They hid in their houses at first, with Auntie Park being one of the few people brave or foolish enough to linger near Amber, obviously worried for her safety.

                After scouring the entirety of the available rooms in the tower, Amber took to scouring the houses outside.  Weird pockets of magic explained the location of the garden and the house; why couldn’t it explain the missing room?  Shadowed again by the beast, she felt along the entirety of the stone wall, searching for some sort of hidden door or soft spot that she might have missed.  When that didn’t work, she searched through all the houses she could.

                It was one of the few times the beast could not follow her and, strangely enough, whenever she reemerged, Amber could have sworn he was tenser than she left him.  As soon as she reappeared though, he would relax.  Or at least that’s what it appeared like.  She watched the fur on his back flatten out and his eyes open fully, no longer narrowed in what she assumed was a frown.  The strange behavior of the beast aside, Amber continued to turn her focus on the problem at hand.  She’d had more than enough practice at doing that for three years.  Nothing was going to sway her.

                As such, nothing was too ridiculous.  She then spent marks throwing items at the gray space above the wall, trying to see if something would go through entirely.  Everything came back instead and Amber had to dodge returning projectiles more times than she would care to admit.  It was another dead end in her continual search and it only served to frustrate her more.  Nothing new came to her.  And that only fueled her need to get into the room the beast obviously did not want her to go into.  Her suspicions aroused, she knew she had to get inside.

                Unfortunately, getting around the beast seemed to be impossible.  She always knew where he was because he followed her which gave her no opportunity to sneak into his room.  He didn’t need sleep much like she didn’t – though she did take naps to at least pass the semblance of time.  But… there was one thing she hadn’t tried yet.  A part of her had hoped that by getting close to him, some sort of understanding would have formed, since it would be near impossible to beat him.  If the bond she hoped for had formed, it hadn’t worked, which meant she was going to have to try something else.  And it started with her room.

                Standing on the threshold by herself, Amber stared at everything with a critical eye.  What could she use?  Her clothes?  They didn’t really fit her anymore and she didn’t care to mend them when the ones she had were still holding up.  Books weren’t all that helpful and most of everything else was too small.  It would take a lot of items to make her smell like the room if she left it and that would be troublesome.  Her eyes landed on the blanket on her bed and she tilted her head speculatively.  “It’s worth a try,” she shrugged, yanking it free and throwing it around her shoulders.  The beast smelled things a lot and whenever she smelled like the room, he was most passive so she was going to see what happened if she took the smell with her.

                As soon as she left the room with the blanket around her, she found the beast waiting in the passage.  Almost immediately, he came to attention and his ears stood up straight.  Nostrils flared wide and he stared at her with bright eyes.  It was obvious he was studying her.

                “Alright beastie,” she sighed, gripping the blanket tight like a cloak so that it covered her almost completely.  “Back up now,” she urged, taking a few slow steps towards him.

                With a delayed reaction, the beast padded backwards, tail twitching behind him.  His ears laid back and then came up, but none of the aggression was present; it was all confusion and uncharacteristic meekness.  If Amber had any doubt about his consciousness, this latest behavior was all the confirmation she needed otherwise.  And she was going to test it further.  Step by step, she walked and he moved as if mesmerized.

                When he stepped out into the hallway, he turned left as Amber expected.  He always tried to keep himself between her and his room.  She followed him, but even as they got closer, instead of the usual posturing and edginess, this time he was different.  There was no anger or threat.  Now she saw uncertainty and uneasiness.  He was tense and fidgety as they rounded the corner to head for his door in the hallway.  Right in front of the door, he paused and pressed his body against it like a physical block, but he still didn’t snap or growl at her.

                “Now you’re acting weird,” Amber murmured, her lips as she pressed closer.  He stopped moving and the distance between them decreased with every step she took.  Amber had never been so close to him before.  Not by her own will and her heart thundered in her chest.  Though he was nearly as tall as her when standing on all fours, he barely reached her waist with how low he was crouching, as if afraid to let her by.  “I’m going through that door,” she promised him, swallowing thickly as she reached a trembling hand through the part in the fabric.

                The beast focused on her hand, watching it like a cat would focus on a bird.  His ears perked up and down erratically, as if confused about how to respond.  The barest of growls whispering from his lips sent her hand retreating back to the safety of the blanket.  And then he returned to being the weird, crouching creature.

                “Okay,” Amber whispered, undeterred if slightly daunted.  Taking a breath, she closed her eyes and took another step closer.  The edge of the blanket brushed against the beast’s nose and he snorted, shaking his head so that the fabric moved and rustled.  Coming up against the very edge of the door, Amber could use the blanket to shield her action from his sight.  She peeled one eye open and carefully opened the door with her blanket covered hand, pushing inward.

                Immediately, the beast bolted past her, nearly yanking the blanket from her in his haste, and Amber gasped, tensing up involuntarily.  But he didn’t return to challenge her in the entryway and there was nothing left to do but go inside.  As soon as she crossed the threshold, she could see the dried blood and torn stones like she had the first time she’d stumbled into this hallway.  Every bit of it was marked by pain and anger.  Without fear present to dull the sensation, she was nearly struck breathless by the sight.

                And then she saw the beast once more.  Gone was the angry monster she’d first laid eyes upon.  Now, in this room, he slunk low to the ground, his belly nearly touching the surface.  His ears were pinned to the back of his head in a strangely submissive gesture and a bizarre sound appeared to be coming from his throat.  His shoulders rolled fluidly beneath golden skin when he continued to scoot back little by little as she advanced, but he made no move to stop her.  He was shame and guilt personified.  The sudden change made Amber want to reach out and comfort him, to banish the quivering in his eyes, but she saw the door just beyond him.  She needed to reach it.  She had to see for herself.

                Taking one more step, she nearly jumped out of her skin when the beast lunged upright and sprinted for his room with what she could only describe as a cry of despair.  Using awkwardly human-like hands, he opened the door and disappeared within, leaving the entryway unbarred.  The doorway beckoned hauntingly and Amber blinked at the beast’s sudden retreat.  Grabbing her necklaces under the blanket and settling the cloth firmer around her shoulders, she nodded once and tip-toed to the opening.

                The smell hit her first.  If despair had a scent, Amber would say that was it: the combination of old blood and sweat and fear and too many things to name at once.  It hit her like a sword blow to the head and she felt unbidden tears spring to her eyes.  She knew that feeling.  Stepping into the dimly lit room, nearly bereft of lighting, Amber swallowed as she realized it was not the casting hall.  It was very nearly as destroyed as her father’s room, complete with old blood and broken bits of debris everywhere but there were no reagents and no books or equipment like those that would be present.

                The casting hall mirror was there, strangely enough.  It leaned against the wall in its perfect, ornate beauty, the single rose amongst the thorns.  And as confused as she was by that strange bit of discovery, she was even more torn by the beast.  The remains of one bed lay in the corner, completely destroyed, but the second was whole and mostly untouched.  And it was on that bed that she saw the beast.  He was curled up on the top like a kitten hiding under his paws.  A strip of blue fabric curled around his hand and it took Amber a moment to recognize what it was.

                “My ribbon,” she whispered before things started to make sense.  His behavior.  What he was holding.  Whose bed he was on.

                Amber whimpered and placed her hand over as she let her watery eyes travel over the rest of the room.  Most of everything was gone, but she saw the brown apprentice robes she’d mended for him when he was so tired those first few months he was here.  She hadn’t had brown thread so the off-white was noticeable but it had held.  And on the bed in the corner was the ingredient pouch she’d fearfully requested from Heechul in the village.  Changsun had always been able to buy his own after all.

                “Seungho?” she whispered with tears falling off her lashes as she stared at the ashamed bundle of golden fur hiding on the bed.  At the sound of the name spoken so softly, he stilled and those large ears rose slowly as if waiting to hear it again.  “Seungho,” Amber spoke louder this time, more certain of her conviction.

                Oh so slowly, she watched the beast as he uncurled from the painfully small ball he’d been in.  He sat upright on the bed, still not looking at her but his ears were turned her direction, acutely aware of her presence.  She waited, breathless and filled with sadness and hope, joy and despair, happiness and uncertainty.  At last, he shifted on the bed, turned to lay half closed eyes upon her.  The full brunt of the pained golden gleam washed over her like a wave, but Amber stood fast in the face of his anguish.  She held out her hand, palm turned up, and waited.

                “Come on,” she pleaded, fingers trembling in the air between them.

                It felt like an eternity before the beast moved again.  With infinite care, he slunk from the bed and picked his way through the debris.  Not once did his eyes waver from hers, his footing sure despite the mess beneath him.  He stopped a couple feet from her and his gaze turned to focus on her hand again, staring at it.  His right shoulder twitched and his nostrils flared, inhaling deeply.  Uncertainty was still writ in every part of his body, but at last, his right hand came up from the floor.  It still clutched the blue ribbon.  As it rose closer, he watched it open so that the fabric fluttered loosely around his palm.  They both watched when his claw tipped fingers twitched as they hovered over Amber’s, almost afraid to bridge the distance.

                “I’m here,” Amber promised, daring to pick her hand up enough to brush the pads of her fingertips against his.  He flinched at the contact and Amber wondered if he hadn’t really believed she was real.  But his hand came down harder against hers.  His fingers curled around her palm in a grip that swallowed her hand with the gentlest of holds.  Then he looked at her and the world stopped entirely.

                For a fraction of time, the mere blink of an eye, Amber saw through whatever magic had been cast.  She saw Seungho holding her hand.  The same Seungho she’d last seen before they were ripped apart.  He hadn’t changed a day…

                And then time continued and he was the beast once more.  But still Seungho.  She let go of the blanket with her left hand.  It fell away, revealing her form and she noticed him tense up.  His ears flicked to and fro nervously and his hand holding hers tightened just a touch, but he didn’t react otherwise.  Amber hardly breathed as she reached out her left hand towards his face.  He watched it move closer without blinking.  Lips peeled up slightly in the semblance of a warning and Amber paused, suddenly unsure.

                But she remembered the glimmer of him she’d seen and took courage from that.  “I know it’s you,” she breathed, running her palm against the smooth side of his face.

                Like a flip being switched, Seungho’s eyes closed and all the tension drained from his body as he pressed into the contact.  With the tension, his muscles seemed to turn to jelly and Seungho started to lower to the ground.  Amber moved with him, keeping the contact between them.  She sat on her folded knees and cried quietly as the beast laid his head in her lap and continued to hold her hand.  When she thought to wrap one side of the blanket around them, he groaned quietly and pressed his head harder against her.  His other hand curled around behind her, holding to the backs of her feet gently, like a strange hug.

                Feeling almost as if she’d cast some sort of spell herself, Amber swallowed and laugh-cried brokenly.  She’d found him.  He’d been here all along and she hadn’t known for sure until now, but she had found him.  “Seungho,” Amber whispered as she saw the traces of the healing scar on his shoulder where she’d hit him.  A pang of guilt struck her, but then seeped away just as quickly.  He’d marked her too.  Neither had known at the time.  She was sure of it.  “But I know you now,” she promised, leaning over to shield him with her body in a protective embrace.  “And I won’t let you go again,” she whispered, petting his fur soothingly with her left hand.