BEAUTY is engraved in delicately ornate font above the entrance. The tunnel leads down into the pitch dark where sight is stolen with ease. It is long and narrow, reeking faintly of dead flowers- light does not carry far and all that can be discerned is the path beneath one's feet, which fades from marble slabs into an uneven stone surface further in. Anything spoken sounds muffled and distant.

Quite suddenly the path opens up into a large cavern, lit by walls glowing with ethereal blue light.

Pools of stagnant water are scattered across the cavern floor... eerily, they reflect nothing. Upon closer inspection Champions will see that approaching a pond will bring about only a reflection of a person. Each one offers a different image of oneself. The silence is weighty but it is obvious that a decision is expected. If all the pools are inspected, the following classifications may be made:

That in many pools, you will find an image of yourself that is well-neigh impossibly attractive. That in a select few, you will see yourself old and wrinkly or incredibly ugly; dressed in tattered clothes. Other pools will display reflections of your present appearance while the remaining ones hold only blackness.

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As the champions will find, these pools are their first obstacle. Post your attempts to move forward and I shall post your results.  PM me for a hint and include BEAUTY in the subject line.

(Continuing from the previous thread)

"And that leaves the challenge of BEAUTY to Beauxbatons Academy.  Press onward, mademoiselles!"

Though the serene smile on her face did not falter in the slightest, Cécile inwardly bristled at this announcement. Beauxbaton got Beauty, how predictable. It was what everyone assumed they would choose anyways and that is what bothered her. She hadn't wanted Beauty. Not just because it was such a cliche that a French girl would pick that before any of the others, but because it was probably going to be the most brutal of them all. The others probably avoided it because they thought it was going to be so pointlessly easy that it was somehow less respectable, but Cécile knew otherwise. Beauty was cunning and deceptive. It lulled you into a false sense of security with its pretty smiles and pleasant aroma, before crushing you mercilessly like a bug. Worst of all, when it was done, you were left feeling like you were the one to blame, because how could something so beautiful be so horrible? With a family like hers, Cécile knew this feeling well.

"Merci, Madame..." Cécile thanked the official as she squeezed her sisters hand, both to reassure and for reassurance. Despite what the delicately lettered sign implied, the ominous black hole of an entrance did not look inviting. Cécile took a deep breath and stepped inward, letting the shroud of darkness devour her. Once inside, she lit her wand only to discover that it barely let her see her own feet, let alone much farther ahead. <"Well... This certainly does not live up to its claims, no? Unless they are suggesting that beauty is blind..."> Cécile's voice was muffled and quite inaudible, which was probably for the best. That joke was terrible. Tentatively, she reached out and groped blindly in the darkness until her fingers found the cold stone of the walls. It didn't make the trip any easier, but at least she had the consolation of a wall to lean on.

Quite suddenly, the narrow passage gave way to a cavernous room and Cécile found herself bathed in a soothing but eerie blue light. All around her were pools of water that reflected nothing, not even the walls, until she approached. When she looked into the nearest one, she found herself staring at her own face. Except it wasn't. Her hair was perfectly styled, had no split ends or loose strands and was brushed to a mirror shine; Her skin was as spotless and soft as a babies bottom; And her eyes, which normally were tired and red from allergies, were bright and clear, framed by impossibly long, dark lashes. For a moment, she was entranced by her reflection but as she stared deeper into it, she begin to realize that something wasn't right. There was an alien quality about it that made her uncomfortable. It was much too symmetrical, much too... perfect. She tore her eyes away.

<"This seems to be the first challenge."> She said suddenly, her voice loud and crystal clear in the cavernous room. She approached another pool, this time finding an entirely different face staring back at her. This one was sickly... no, beyond that. It looked as though she had been ravaged by disease. Her hair was dry and limp, her skin cracked and so pale that she could see the tiny blue veins spreading under it like spiderwebs. Her eyes were empty and dull, protruding from sunken cheeks. It was painful to look at, though not for the same reason as the other pool. That one had shown her with impossible beauty she could never hope to obtain. This one, however, showed her something very much in the realm of possible, and it terrified her. Licking her lips, which were so dry in the image that she could feel her own cracking in sympathy, Cécile added <"... I wonder what we are supposed to do... Perhaps drink from them?"> If that was the case, she would avoid the first one. Something that beautiful must be poisonous.

At first, Lola thought if the other champions were aware of how stupid their decisions looked like. Yes, as if she and her sister knew nothing about Beauty. The good luck that Durmstrang boy wished her, she would wish it back to him. He would need it. But then, there was something in the way Cécile kept squeezing her hand. Élodie knew, her sister always had a hard time with all her allergies and stuff and it wasn’t easy for her to recognize her own beauty. How many times she needed to brush her hair, choose her dress and convince the younger sister she could be just as pretty as she was - or more? Even so, she hoped Cici could feel a little more confident, she would do good, she was a Beauxbatons after all, and she had her by her side. Why was she looking so apprehensive?

Lola always admitted to herself that Cici was much smarter than herself. So obviously she was missing something, something she couldn’t ask in front of everyone.

She walked in by her side and took her wand by the same time her sister took hers. It didn’t work, and for the first time she started to really get afraid. What would she face after this darkness? Well, Élodie could only hold on to the fact she knew who she was. Somehow she felt it was about to be challenged.

<"Well... This certainly does not live up to its claims, no? Unless they are suggesting that beauty is blind...">

<“What?”> Live, claims, beauty, blind… She was uncertain if she heard and understood well, but connecting beauty and blind by the fact they were seeing nothing (and hearing nothing? Beauty could be deaf as well?) was nonsense to Élodie. “Non…” she shook her head, <“if so it’s just a riddle.”> She wanted to smile at Cécile, to reassure her, but it would be useless. She could only feel her trying to reach the walls beside her, carefully. What Élodie wanted was to run as fast as she could so that could end up quickly.

But it turned out not being necessary. All of a sudden, the scenario changed completely. Water pools reflecting nothing, scattered all around between blue walls. Great, that was a riddle, and that seemed to be a blind one. Or not so blind at all. Her sister was looking attentive at a pool and Élodie stepped beside her to look at the most magnificent girl in the world. Lola smiled at her own perfect self. She thought she was beauty enough, but that? That was just too amazing to not let herself get closer, mesmerized by the sight. Could she be like that in real life? <“If I were perfect like this, I would be the prima ballerina of the world…”> she murmured to herself.

<"... I wonder what we are supposed to do... Perhaps drink from them?">

<“Or maybe dive?”> She answered, partly thanking Merlin for hearing her sister’s voice. Élodie wasn’t alone, and that was a challenge. She couldn’t lose any time getting so… enchanted… still she looked at her perfect self one more time. <“Are they all the same?”> She asked, getting closer to the second one Cécile looked at. <“MERLIN, they’re not the same!”> Élodie couldn’t even bear look at that for more than a second, couldn’t even describe what she looked at, actually. <“Are they all different then? Should we pick one?”>

Without waiting for answers, she ran through pool to pool taking a quick look in each one. It was odd, really odd, but gladly the worst were the pools where… that thing were reflected. Eeew. She stopped in front of one, though, the oddest in her opinion. <“Cécile, there’s a black one here!”> She stepped closer, trying hard to find anything reflected, but there’s only blackness. Beauty, blind. So annoying. <“I would dive this one. Or drink. Whatever… there SHOULD be something more than this… ”> Élodie bent in front of the pool, stretching her fingers so she could touch the surface of the black water, to see if it at least react like water, waving under her hand. Was it dumb of her? Shouldn't she be afraid as she was getting in the tunnel?

At first, the surface of the black pool is non-reactive. It shows nothing and appears to absorb the light around them, even.

As Élodie's hand draws close however the liquid suddenly burbles with activity, almost with a life on its own. The lights in the cavern intensify and a strange sound rings through the air, only heard by the relevant Fontaine. There is a bell-like, entrancing quality to its tone.

Almost on cue, the water reaches out in defiance of logic and wraps it watery tendrils around Élodie's slender arm. Its grips is unforgivingly harsh as it attempts to drag the witch down into its unknown depths.

<“Did you hear that?”> Élodie looked up when the strange bell started to ring… was it a bell? Why was it playing? The lights were so strong from above now, and the sound… NO! Lola shook her head, trying to get rid of that sound in her mind. Bad idea, awfully bad idea, she should have tried a spell before put her hand on anything there. But before her body had the chance to fulfill her change of mind, she felt something odd on her arm.

<“WHAT???”> She screamed out of surprise when that thing started to pull her down. That was exactly why you just can’t go on touching magical things. Too late now. And that sound… Fighting to stay firm, she looked up once again to find the reason to fight harder than never - Cécile’s eyes. She smiled, oddly, trying to be confident. <“Cici, I… I don’t think it’s a good idea to drink this water… heh...”> Lola pulled her arm, trying hard to get straight on her feet. That sound, that sound, that sound on her mind… <“Cici… do you think I should dive into it? I mean… I can go down and tell you what’s inside. No matter what is it, you know I can handle… you know it, right?”>

<“Cécile, there’s a black one here! I would dive this one. Or drink. Whatever… there SHOULD be something more than this… ”>

<"I agree, there should be... Whatever it is, it must involve these pools..."> Cécile said softly, only half aware of what her sister was doing. She was too busy studying the walls for any clues to what they should be doing next. It was fruitless. No signs, no writing on the walls, no crude cave paintings even. Nothing. Whoever designed this tunnel wanted them to guess blindly. With a sigh, she approached the next pool and found a new face staring back at her. This one wasn't hideous, at least not in her eyes, but it was old and wrinkled, with greying hair and eyes wreathed with laugh lines. Though it wasn't a pretty picture, there was something endearing about the way her eyes twinkled with wisdom and perhaps a bit of mischief. She looked like she lived a long, full life filled with adventure. Cécile kinda wanted to plant herself there and ask her future self all sorts of questions about what was to come. But then...

<“WHAT???”>

Lola's scream ripped her from her thoughts and Cécile whirled around and froze for a moment, horrified at what she was seeing. Somehow the water had defied reality and wrapped itself around Élodie's arm with thick, inky black tentacles. As she watched one of her worst nightmares coming true, her fight or flight reaction kicked in and Cécile found herself at her sisters side, wand in hand, with little recollection of how she got there so quickly. Wrapping her arms around Élodie's chest, she dug her heels in. It wasn't a lot of extra weight, but hopefully it was enough for her to devise a plan.

<“Cici… do you think I should dive into it? I mean… I can go down and tell you what’s inside. No matter what is it, you know I can handle… you know it, right?”>

<"NO! I won't lose you like that!"> Cécile shouted, her grip on her sister tightening. Though she realized, and appreciated, that Élodie was trying to be brave for her, she couldn't watch her sister go down there. Cécile didn't know what she would do if she lost Élodie. She couldn't, and wouldn't, even fathom it. <"J...Just let me think!">

Suddenly she was aware of her feet dragging against the slippery rocks. Digging her heels in, she tried to keep calm and come up with a spell before Élodie's arm was torn off. The water was obviously NOT normal water, but its consistency seemed to react the same way. Cutting it seemed fruitless since it would just flow back together. Freezing it would slow it down but that would hardly help free Lola. <"Oh! Fire! Of course! Mon Dieu, I am an idiot"> Cécile nearly shouted in joy as it dawned on her.

<"I have a plan..."> She said, her voice was suddenly mature and commanding, as her expression of fear became one of determination. It was a rarely seen side of Cécile, one that only came out in times of dire need. Releasing one arm from her sister, Cécile raised her wand and was about to cast a spell when she faltered a little. She only knew one spell strong enough to destroy magical water and she was honestly not that confident in using it. What if it backfired? What if she couldn't even cast it strongly enough? Doubts flooded her mind and she felt her resolution shrinking. Suddenly, they were yanked a few more inches towards the water, toes hanging over the edge, and Cécile found the resolution come roaring back.

Without a second thought, she quickly cast a freeze-flame spell on them both. Better safe than sorry. Then, with a deep breath, she fueled all her strength into her wand. Strength she didn't even know she had. "Dracanhelitus!" She shouted with a snap of her arm. The Dragons Breath charm. In class she had always struggled with it, never getting more than a weak puff of fire. But with her sisters life on the line, Cécile felt more power than ever before rush through her arm and explode out of the wand tip. The burst of flame was nearly white hot and consumed her sisters arm and the tendrils in searing heat.

A shrill sound cuts through the air as the flames of Cécile's charms lick at the tendrils of dark water pulling at her sister. It is obvious that the spell has been, in some way, effective. The sound cuts off and the water, bubbling with heat,  falls abruptly to the cavern floor before dribbling backwards in an unnatural motion- each drop returns to its pool like a scarred creature.

Silence. Élodie Fontaine is no longer in immediate danger of being dragged underneath. The air is still again, as if though nothing had happened at all, and the ponds quietly await an imminent decision...

Élodie stood some moments still holding tight her own arm, now freeze, but free from the black water’s tentacles. Her gasp seemed to be the only sound in the room, finally, it made her realize that this part was over. Then she looked above at her sister… and just jumped at her. <“You’ll never lose me, you fool!”> She laughed, while holding her. She didn’t want to show THAT MUCH of relieve, but it was inevitable.

<“Ok, what now? What now? Tell me… and I promise I will behave.”> Lola said, stepping away from her sister and looking at the pools. <“I have no idea what which one is about, and which one is right. We’ll have to find a better way to find it out without losing any more time… I’m sorry for that, Cici, you’re the clever one, you know all the spells... you give the instructions.”> She finally admitted, not wanting to put more pressure on her little shoulders, but not knowing what more could be done.

The heat of the flames licked at Ceciles arm and even with the freeze-flame charm, they burned. Eyes screwed shut, she felt her confidence waning as the tentacles didn't seem to want to let go. Just as her fear begin to cause the flame to falter, there was a shrill shreik and the tentacles hold on Elodie abruptly loosened, sending the girls tumbling backwards. They sat there in silence, like a pair of perpetually shocked statues, for several agonizing moments. Then Elodie turned and captured Cecile in a tight hug.

<“You’ll never lose me, you fool!”>

As Lola laughed, Cecile fought the urge to cry in both frustration and relief. Thankfully, the dragons breath took so much out of her emotionally that she had no tears to show. Instead, she hugged Elodie tightly, knowing well that if they screwed up again, it could be the last hug they shared. It was a terrifying thought to say the least.

<“Ok, what now? What now? Tell me… and I promise I will behave. I have no idea what which one is about, and which one is right. We’ll have to find a better way to find it out without losing any more time… I’m sorry for that, Cici, you’re the clever one, you know all the spells... you give the instructions.”>

<"Shh... You aren't supposed to say that!"> Cecile chided her, but the small, bashful, smile that crossed her lips showed how pleased she was at her sisters praise, even if she didn't think it was all true. Taking a deep breath and looking around the room, she pondered for a moment before speaking <"Well...It is obvious that we are to dive into the ponds, though which one is a bit tricker of a problem. The black ponds are not the best choice, that much is clear. And I don't trust the ones where we look so... pretty. Seems too artificial to me...">

She walked around, looking in the ponds again, trying not to cringe at the one where she looked so hideous <"I think we should dive into this one."> She pointed to the one at her feet, where a wise, lined face stared back at her <"I know we are old in it, but perhaps with age comes wisdom! I say it is our best bet.">

Reaching out, she took her sisters hand and leaned close so they could conspire. She had a sneaking suspicion they were being watched. <"So here is my plan. Since you are the stronger physically, you put on a bubblehead charm and I will attach a chain to your waist. Then, you jump in and see what is there. You can tell me via mirror..." As she said this, she tapped her chest where her mirror lay nestled in her bosom.

<"Well...It is obvious that we are to dive into the ponds, though which one is a bit tricker of a problem. The black ponds are not the best choice, that much is clear. And I don't trust the ones where we look so... pretty. Seems too artificial to me...">

Élodie was about to suggest the prettier ones when her sister said the last part. Oh… the finger that was ready to point at one of them took a different way and went right behind her ear where she scratched quickly, to disguise her first intention. It was proven that Lola couldn’t make a right decision when she was dazzled or puzzled. The one she had just made already caused them to lose some minutes and to stress out her little sister, who saved her.

She walked beside her patiently waiting for her decision before making the second move. Lola couldn’t even look at the pools where she was old and… eeewww… she just couldn’t. But it was in from of one of these where Cici stop and pointed.

<"I think we should dive into this one. I know we are old in it, but perhaps with age comes wisdom! I say it is our best bet.">

Élodie couldn’t help but make a face when she looked at it considering. Merlin, she should dive into this one. Merlin give her strength for that. Though she thought it was about beauty, wisdom was another tunnel about, she had to admit again and again that she should follow her sister’s instructions because yes, she got the brains. And if she wanted to dive into the hideous pool, Lola would dive it for her. <“Yes, I’ll do it. It seems to be our best bet, for sure.”>

Then her sister got all conspirator leaning close to her. It reminded Lola of the times when she wanted to say something to her, but their mother was near. Times when they didn’t have their mirrors. But now…

<"So here is my plan. Since you are the stronger physically, you put on a bubblehead charm and I will attach a chain to your waist. Then, you jump in and see what is there. You can tell me via mirror...">

<“Sure! Sure, that’s gonna work!”> She said immediately, and not waiting any longer, she took her wand, concentrated a little, and them enclosure her own head with a bubble very carefully. Lola smiled at Cici from inside the magical pellicle and turned to the pool. Now she was a hideous old woman with a bubble on her head. Gross. Still she would not cower, especially when she felt Cécile casting the chain around her waist. She could say she was putting all her hope on that. All their future, all their dreams, their happiness… Élodie closed her eyes, and when she felt she was ready, she dived, facing the ugly image of herself.

((Godmod approved by Alisha))

As Élodie Fontaine moves to dive into the pool, the image of herself suddenly rises from its place in the reflection: in full three-dimensional form. This old and weather version of the Beauxbatons girl quickly catches Élodie- she snarls, a bitter mockery of the original beauty, and collapses back into the pond with her prey. If Cécile were to tug on the chain she would find that it has been cut off.

Élodie is submerged into utter blackness for a brief moment; as if though slowly falling through treacle. A loud POP!  is heard and she jerks downwards without warning, landing on a wooden floor in a poorly lit room. There are no windows but a single shut door. Empty, dusty shelves surround her... as well as a writing desk with blank parchment and inkwell.

The wallpaper is peeling and the scent of dead flowers from the tunnel is stronger here- almost pungent.

What unfolded next felt like a dream. Or, perhaps, a nightmare.

Elodie's feet had barely left the edge of the puddle when the figure within rose to meet her, wrapping its spidery arms around her lithe figure in a grasp that was both comforting and crushing. The air seemed to grow heavy, even constricting, around Cecile, turning each breath laborious. Her entire body felt sluggish and thick, leaving her incapable of doing anything but watch.

The mockery of her sister looked far too much like Manon for her comfort. Her beautiful face was twisted by age and envy, clearly jealous of the beauty and vivacity her younger form still possessed. She clung to Elodie possessively and as they sank backwards, her eyes met Ceciles. She sneered cruelly.

The moment that Elodie sank fully into the abyss, the air cleared and Cecile could breath and move again. Logic would have suggested she wait and think, come up with some sort of plan, but the slack of the chains and the silence that followed her sister departure were far too palpable to ignore. Rationality all but disappeared and Cecile found herself frantic. "LOLA!!" She screamed and, without a second thought, waded into the water after her sister.

Her image rose to meet her as well, just as twisted and snarling as Lola's, and Cecile threw herself into its embrace. For a moment, there was nothing. Just blackness and a heavy sense of emptiness. And then, POP, Cecile was birthed into a dim room that reeked of dead flowers, a bitter testament to the ravages of age upon beauty. She landed unceremoniously on the floor and laid there, greedily gasping for air like a starving child. After what seemed like an eternity of smarting knees and burning lungs, Cecile opened her eyes.

When the bleariness cleared, the familiar form of Elodie came into sharp focus and Cecile found herself suddenly quite awake and alert. "Elodie!!! Ma sśur chérie!" She gasped, crawling quickly towards the form, ignoring the pain from her bruised knees exacerbated by slivers from the rough wooded floor. Throwing her arms around Elodie, she clung to her for a moment, trying to absorb as much as her presense as possible. "Lola..." She babbled into her neck <"I thought I lost you...">

While the sisters have their reunion, a muted sound can be heard from outside the windowless room. It is almost alluring... and if the Fontaine siblings had been brothers, perhaps even irresistible. Inside the room however, nothing moves. The blank parchment and inkwell lay waiting while the scent of dead flowers grows increasingly pungent.

The atmosphere is thick with a stagnant, putrid sensation; as if though nothing here was touched by time. One might feel confused as to whether minutes or hours or days have passed. The external sound very gradually grows more clear; if listened to carefully, one might be able to make out that it is a song, sung traditionally by the Veela.

It took several minutes before Cécile felt secure enough in the fact that her sister wasn't gone to release her from her deathgrip. It was then that she noticed the strangely enticing melody that had begun to waft through the room. She recognized it almost immediately. You couldn't grow up in France without having heard a Veela song at least once in your life.  Mostly unaffected by its charms, she laughed lightly and said to Élodie, <"It's a veela... Quite appropriate for the theme, no?">

Pulling away from Lola, she begin to study the details of the room she had missed in her frantic state. The air smelled much more pungent and foul here. Before the smell of dead roses had been a mere distraction but now it almost made her gag. Perhaps it meant that they were nearing the end. She certainly hoped so.

Walking over to the small desk, Cécile looked over the parchment and inkwell. Then she considered the song. <"Do you suppose we are meant to write out the words?"> She mused out loud. Picking up the quill, she dipped it in the inkwell, dashed off the excess ink and then carefully wrote out one of the songs lines in delicate calligraphy. Gripping the quill with white knuckles, she waited to see what happened.

The quill slid over the parchment with smoothness and grace in a hand-writing even more beautiful than Cécile Fontaine's practiced and careful script.  The ink spread out into the fibers, leeching all the way to the edges until the entire parchment was black.  Slowly slowly it delicately crept and seeped, totally consuming it.

And then, where the words once were, the parchment showed a new message, in the girls' native French.


And from behind the locked door comes a stratching, very quietly.  But as moments pass, the scratching grows more menacing.