LITERARY | The Beast Untold

𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 | The Beast Untold

Villagers said there was a beast atop the mountain. Beyond the ravaging seas and mystic woods, where the sun would barely dare to peek through the thick canopy. A young man—who was neither a prince nor a knight, began his journey to meet the beast. The villagers called him a fool who was ignorant of the world—of the perils and dangers untold.

But he was set to venture, for he was a bard, a poet, a painter, and a scholar. And the beast, he thought, radiated deep knowledge and a pearl of century-old wisdom that alluded to mysteries.

He believed he was made for worlds beyond, so he’s set out towards uncharted territories since.  Destiny's thread unravels him amid a desert made of ice, a kingdom decked out in sand and gold, and now a beast.

At the heart of the forest, though it was a hot and humid afternoon, the young man had slept in the middle of the journey. The wind was merciless as if fate had denied him warmth. And the fire became less and less until there were only cinders left. And he dreamt when he was still a child—innocent and faultless, watching his mother cook in the gallery, with his eyes peering through the vast expanse. He was awakened by the cold of the night, and he was set to meet the beast, for the castle was drawing near.

He knocked through the threshold of the beast’s castle as the moon danced in its glory. He was elated to discover the night's mysteries. The door opened in a whirlwind. The marble castle was veiled with moss, crickets, mud, and dirt. He walked up the grand staircase, his breathing becoming more ragged. His eyes caught sight of a painting with delicate and vivid brushstrokes. It was both harsh and regal, softened by a grace that was almost somber.

The young man moved with the charm of curiosity in the soft embrace of the evening toward an old castle where eerie remnants of the beast might be heard.

But there was no beast.

Instead, the young man uncovered an incredible amount of wealth among the eons' dust. Because there, on venerable shelves, were books with centuries-old thoughts and tales. The young man was exhilarated with all the knowledge. He caught glimpses of worlds in those ink-stained pages. Each phrase leaves a silent legacy, echoing the thunderous beat of civilizations.

The young man sang to the rhymes, for he was a bard and a poet, a painter, and a scholar. The young man stayed in the castle through the time the owls were awake, where education is both beauty and beast and knowledge sparkles beautifully like roses. He looked for truth in books and scriptures, powered by dunes and dreams.

He looked for the truth in a reality he could touch. His spirit, therefore, found a home in that old fortress. He was gifted with knowledge, for the young man did not fear the beast.

Long streaks of light stretched toward the horizon as the sun started to rise. He knew that the knowledge was not solely his, so he put the books back where he found them.

He walked outside the castle, preparing to return home. He grew with every page he turned. He turned his back on the old castle, and when he took sight of the castle one last time, it was gone.

Even as he stood there, though, his heart continued to beat with an unquenchable thirst for more. He was humbled by the mysteries of the world, and a spirit of gratitude filled him because the castle did not deny his entry because it welcomed him. He accepted that the journey was not over and would never fully end, with reverence for the legacy of humanity.

He was a bard and a poet, a painter, and a scholar, and his desire to learn will always burn him like the glory of the sun.

Article: Julia Manzano

Graphics: Haui Sacay