[Valentine 2014] The Truest Love in the Kingdom

I think everyone desires love in some form. Some people are more outward with their affection, while others try hard never to let it out into the larger world. What most people dream and fantasize about, however, is falling in love and becoming intimate. Few understand that a true, powerful love, blooms long after the knight rescues the princess from imminent danger, or breaks a spell. True love finds its way to enchant experiences long after the honeymoon has ended. What is the couple faced with then? Why—life, of course. So let me tell you a tale. One that shines as the greatest example of true love the kingdom has ever known.

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“Shh. Hush, little one. Drift back to sleep.”

A mother held her baby and gently rocked her for consolation. A disturbing dream, or perhaps an unpleasant position or temperature, nonetheless the disturbance had to be quelled. It was late, and so was he. The sound of footsteps could be heard in the hall, accompanied by the jangling of armor. Their voices penetrated the thick stone walls, a slight mumbling and murmur, then a dismissal.

“…And we will pursue her until she has nowhere left to run. Now leave me. Tomorrow begins another day. Be certain to send your scouts along the deeper southern pass in the morrow.”

The large wooden door to the room opens as the man steps inside, then shuts with a not-so-subtle boom. The baby rustles in her mother’s arms and begins to wail once more, driving her arm to her temple. The man was not long to enter, following his ears to the sounds of new life.

“You woke her again; she was just beginning to settle.” The mother rocked her back and forth, continuing her therapy. The man spoke ignoring the whole situation.

“We’ve almost got her. My knights have followed her into the desolate marshes to the south and the scouts have eyes that eagles would be envious over…” He trailed off speaking of his plans, but she had grown tired of it.

“Do you still chase after her? It has been more than a decade…I’m beginning to feel you have a stronger attraction to her over myself, or your children.” Although he had continued to speak, he grew silent as his mind began to process some small collection of what she uttered.

“I do so exactly for my dedication to you. What if she were to capture one of them like she did you? I do not place as much faith in the knights of this generation that they should be as courageous as me. No, it is my responsibility to end her blight of an existence.” The now louder discussion continued and provided the babe no soft comfort, as she began to whimper and wail. The mother did her best to calm the young one, and then sat her in the bassinet.

“Has word come of how my father is fairing?” She grew solemn, as did he in return.

“…Not as of yet, but his majesty’s update should arrive tomorrow morn.” She began to sniffle and carefully hid her sensitivity by engrossing herself in her sleeping child.

“I wish we would return to see him, then. We should never have moved here. The weather is pitiful and sickly so close to those dreaded swamps. Who knows how it is affecting the growth of our children?” The man snorted and cleared his throat, shifting his vision away from her. She wouldn’t look him in the eye and the distance between them grew larger. Through her words was spite for him and the quest he took upon his platoon to vanquish the evil witch. It made him resent her in turn. A man moves by action, but a woman’s talents are in the piercing words she uses, and they called to question the validity of his oath of honor.

“We are too close to leave now. She will be within our grasp in a week’s time and—” She interrupted him by meeting his returning gaze.

“You have been saying as much for years. When will it end?”

“When we have her head.”

“Then you will truly dig your own grave in your foolish pursuit. You have all the prizes you need right in front of your eyes yet you care not to look.” Her eyes began to swell red as well as dark from lack of rest. She had to rear her children between herself and a single chambermaid since they had come all the way out to this small city belonging to her father’s kingdom. She may have been the princess of the kingdom, but a lot of the majesty’s workers were predisposed in aiding her sickly father. The stress of which was catching up with her and her words were strained to maintain composure. The man spat to the side and turned, as he had his fill for the night.

“I am done with you. Let us continue this in the morning and you will see. By tomorrow, you will only hear good news of my deeds, for we will have a witch to hang.” The baby whimpered, but was comforted by the eventual relief of her mother’s hand and voice. She sung a familiar tune to keep her sleep tranquil, but her voice was raspy and hindered from fighting off oncoming tears. She would barely collect herself to rest before the morning came.

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The sun rose quickly and the market bustled with activity. The man was inspecting his division’s training alongside a young boy, a little over a decade in age. “Father, did you train like this when you were in the royal guard?” The man nodded slightly, his attention at the performance of his men.

“You there! Pick up your pace, and hold your weapon higher. Do you want his sword to pierce your visor? Prepare to parry as if it was for your life!” The soldier adjusted his stance and called out.

“Yes, Lord Prince!” The boy watched as they sparred and the clang of steel rang out, engrossed in their activity.

“Will I join your regiment some day?” The boy looked up to him; his big eyes reflected the light of the sun.

“I’m unsure if this sort of responsibility will be fit for a future prince. I was born into this environment, but you will be crown prince and heir to the throne some day, so you should prepare for such duty. Focus on your studies for now, you should train for combat when you’re older and have the muscle.” The boy gave a disappointed sigh as a scout came running up to the prince.

“My liege, two scouts are here to see you.” The prince raised an eyebrow.

“I only requested one scout to return from the south.”

“No, sire. That one has arrived, but the other is from the kingdom capital. He bears news for only you and her majesty, the princess.” This was indeed the messenger sent to update them on the king’s health. The prince motioned for his son to follow and walked ahead to greet the men.

“You—tell me what you have seen first.” He pointed to the scout of his division; a few words were exchanged between them as to sightings of the evil lady’s movement.

“…And then she vanished, my lord. There were pots, potions, a vat of liquid—some kind of spell perhaps, and then the entire cave burst in a purplish fog and I escaped gasping for breath. I returned as soon as it settled, but nothing remained. Nothing at all.” The prince bore a fuming scowl.

“Idiot! Get back there and search harder. I will not be undone by a mere parlor trick. I will have my vengeance and I hope your incompetence will not be to blame for keeping it from me.” The young man shook from the reprimanding voice of his superior, and he bowed his head, backing away and apologizing profusely.

“I—I will return immediately, my lord. My apologies, please forgive me!” Without waiting for a response, he turned and ran. The prince scoffed and turned to the messenger from the capital. He beckoned him with his fingers to follow and they traversed back to the manor. The prince’s son followed shortly behind as they stormed through the halls, heavy boots and padded shoes stepping in unison to which the boy found difficult to keep up. As they ascended stairs to the royal chambers where the princess resided, the prince held back his son, ordering him to wait in the hall, despite his protest.

The two men entered and shut the door. Fortunately for the prince’s son, the keyholes were large enough to peer through—to reveal just enough. His father summoned his mother from the back rooms as the messenger waited. They arrived together, standing side-by-side, but not closely. It was difficult to hear; most of what he said was gentle mumbles. He removed his feathered cap and twisted it in his arms before bowing his head. The princess turned a few shades paler and brought her hands to hide her mouth. She shook a few times and turned, retreating to her bedroom. The prince held up his hand after her, but paused and lowered it slowly, considering it futile. A few more words were exchanged between the two before he dismissed the messenger, sending him off with a wave of his hand. The door opened and the boy flew back. The messenger noticed and apologized before leaving down the hall. The prince followed his movement with a shocked stare, helpless to the knowledge he had conveyed before departing. His father left the room as well, noticing his son at the other side of the hall.

“Boy, go console your mother…It seems you will be crown prince sooner than we had thought.” With those words spoken, his eyes narrowed and he gave a discontented sigh.

“…But, Father…Why won’t you come with, then?” He looked to his father with solemn eyes, not quite understanding the dynamic of the atmosphere, or what exactly happened. How could he be of any help to his mother? She was supposed to be the one to console him when he needed it. It was a confusing twist of roles.

The brooding man shook his head slowly. “She doesn’t want me right now. You’ll understand when you’re older, boy. Now go, off with you. We will make preparations to travel soon, so I need to communicate that to the servants.” He didn’t stay to speak any longer, and left down the hall towards the lower quarters. The boy turned his head towards the bedrooms and went after his mother. He found her after entering her room, the sounds of sobbing echoing forth. She was against her bed, her front against the sheet, not providing much muffling to her sorrow.

“Mommy—” he corrected himself, embarrassed to use such a childish word, “Mother? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” She looked towards him with tear-laden eyes. He went to her and she grasped him close, sobbing into him. She said nothing, and he wasn’t sure what he should do, but she wanted to hold him, so he’d let her.

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The prince’s fist met wood in anger, shaking a stagecoach on impact. So close to his goal, and yet he was to return to the royal capital with the princess and his children immediately. They set out in the afternoon after he gave his troops orders to stay and keep watch of the areas to the south. A few of his most trusted paladins accompanied the royal family on their return. They boarded the horse-drawn carriage and departed, the kingdom a few days away. It proved to seem a lot longer.

Many awkward moments filled the journey, between the eldest son’s questions to his father regarding the workings of the kingdom and its subjects. Questions about the current situation were deferred. That elephant in the cart remained unspoken for now, lest it sadden the princess’ mood. The baby held no concerns beyond her next meal, and the middle child, a daughter, was more concerned with the flowers along the side of the road. The begrudging prince peered outside the carriage as well, though with more pressing matters on his mind.

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The prince and princess were greeted on arrival by a funeral procession. The royal family, arrived only a short while ago, dressed in black and prepared to come before the courtyard. The royal guard and crowds of the kingdom’s citizens gathered in union to depart their beloved king. In essence, it was a bleak, cloudy day, and it was hard-pressed to find an innocent man who didn’t love the departed ruler. The kingdom became reminiscent several years back when they convened just the same for the blessed queen. With the princess as the only produced heir of their unification, she and her husband, the promoted prince, would ascend the throne. This fact remained in the worried minds of the people. The princess, who was frail enough to become kidnapped, and the prince born a mere common man, neither displayed character suitable as of yet to console the people, whose hearts ached for such a man beloved by all.

The inevitable day of coronation came, and the royal family was dressed in their finest. A lavish display surrounded the courtyard; petals were falling from every balcony in sight. The guard lined the path towards the outdoor throne, holding sword towards the aisle. The steel blades rose as the prince and princess marched through towards the castle and throne. There the divine bishop awaited them. They arrived, knelt, and had the consecrated staff waved above their shoulder, passed to the other, and back, finally encircled their heads, one after the other. They lifted to their feet and the bishop chanted holy words before them in the celestial language. He seized golden items upon opulent cushions brought before him from honored nobility, and presented them to the pair. The golden sword of temperance went to the prince, the scepter of compassion for the princess, and for both, the holy crowns of the king and queen. When they were placed upon their heads, the two turned and took their seats facing the bowed bishop, guard, and citizens, signifying their royal ascent. Loud applause and cheer shattered the wind and the kingdom had their royal leaders once more. Celebrations lasted the entire day. A bright new age was wished for in everyone’s hearts in attendance—at least, all but one.

The sound of mild growling emanated from a dark alley that had sight of the courtyard. There an old lady frowned on the joy and celebration. The day’s events began to decorate the city, but she did not seem pleased in the slightest. However, a slight grin crept its way to her lips. She chuckled slowly as her eyes narrowed on the new rulers of the kingdom. Her laughter grew until her form crumbled away to dust that blew away in the wind.

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Weeks passed as the king and queen became accustom to their duties. The king had to become more knowledgeable about the economy of his kingdom. Since they were in a period of peace, war strategy wasn’t as heavy a focus, despite his interest in its similarity to how he used to command his platoon, albeit on a much grander scale. Instead, he was learning of commanding the carts and horses of trade. When not planning to the financial success of his kingdom, he was listening to the rabble of nobles, or hearing citizens come make requests from the farther reaches of the land. However, he remained diligent, as his people needed him above anyone else to uphold his image and become someone educated and respectable. Yet, he still found himself wanting. He found that his responsibilities had grown incredibly with each passing transition in his life. He pushed on to do the right thing for the good of the kingdom, but burning in the back of his mind was the ability to be more carefree in spending time with his family, and the witch who had averted his grasp did not disappear from his mind just yet.

The queen’s routine had been changing in its own way. She was no longer as central in the lives of her children, who had countless tutors, instructors, and trainers assigned to them. The baby did not yet have the ability to learn much more than how to interact with the world around her as she crawled, but a team of handmaidens made sure she was taken care of without need for the queen to make any effort. This was to her dismay, as she felt herself drifting from the mother role to all her children, the baby most of all. She grew sadder by the day, still needing to make showings at events, displaying the latest fashion and bonding with the people. A set of fashionistas dressed her up as a doll every day in outfits that were exaggeratingly huge and holding far too many bows, ribbons, and other accessories. She had been a princess, so she was somewhat used to it, but the demand to be a fashion trendsetter created a greater need for her to uphold her image.

Evening set in as the queen returned to the castle from a juncture. She dismissed her daytime escorts and prepared to make her way to a social gathering for the nobility. All she wanted to do was be with her children, even her husband despite the greater distance that had been between them throughout this transition. Her father, the former king, had died and he loved her with all his heart. She had felt an enormous void within her now that he was gone, and now her family was drifting away because of her new position. The feelings welled in her eyes slightly, but she had to be in public soon, so she bottled it up like she had done daily. She walked down the hall where she’d make a few turns and arrive, but heard singing from the tailoring room as she passed it. Stopping to listen, the song was oddly familiar to her, but she didn’t know quite how.

The queen finally opened the door to find an older lady mending clothing and sewing various buttons and baubles in place. “Ah, good evening, my queen.” She didn’t respond at first, the tune’s origin driving her curiosity. It made her feel quite melancholy, as nostalgic feelings arose within her. It was the same tune her mother sung to her when she was young, and the one she sings to her children. The seamstress picked up on her quizzical look. “Dearie, what is the matter? You look tired and…slightly sad.” The queen didn’t think she was showing so much just from her loosened facial features. She perked herself up a bit and shrugged it off. “You can talk to me. Please, tell me all about it. Would you like me to guess?” She led the queen by hand to a stool so she could sit. “Now, what’s on your mind?” The bottled feelings bubbled up within her, almost creeping to surface. “Is it today’s gown? Perhaps the cooks aren’t preparing proper meals to sate your appetite?” The queen merely shook her head. No, her problem was not about what wrapped around her skin, nor what lay in her stomach. The source of her hardship was a bit higher, more core to her body. The feelings began to swell in her face, the expression changing as the ache grew now that someone was permitting it to release. “…Oh, my lady. That face. I wouldn’t mistake that anywhere. You’re lovesick, aren’t you?” She felt the tears soak her eyes, her breath shook, and her body quivered. The woman saw the queen begin to crumble and wrapped her arms around her to ease her sorrow and to keep her in place. “It’s okay. It’s alright, dearie. Let it out. You just let me know when you’re ready. I’m here for you.”

After a while shedding much needed tears, the queen gathered herself and apologized to the older lady. She explained herself and how she felt longing for her children. In truth, by becoming queen, she had acquired the entire kingdom as her children, but the love for her own flesh and blood did not become any less important to her. The most frustrating of all was that the king had grown bored of her. At least, she felt that way, as they hadn’t spent any genuine time together in such a long time—before the coronation, perhaps before their youngest was even born. He had become obsessed with revenge, training his soldiers, and now he had new duties to attend to. She feared the worst, that she had entered the first steps into a now loveless marriage, and even her children whom she was permitted to provide an endless amount of affection, were being taken away from her. The lady stroked her arms as the queen poured out every worry from within. When she had finished, the woman spoke out in realization. “My queen, I know what will help you! I have an idea. There’s an alchemist in the market who runs a medicine shop, and rumor’s about in the city that this man can develop a potion that will renew love again, or perhaps even create it. If the king drinks it, he’ll surely recall his love for you.” The queen wiped away some tear trails and looked to the lady in awe. Could this be the answer to all her worries? “Don’t you fret one bit. I will go and fetch it for you from him. He may have closed shop, but I know he’ll make an exception for the royal queen, of course. And don’t worry! It’ll stay discreet so no one beyond the three of us will know. Your love will return in no time!” Whether it was the seamstress or alchemist, she was surely looking directly at salvation. The lady left and so the queen gathered herself. She would arrive at the gathering late, but hopeful.

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As the guests departed, they were escorted out of the castle grounds through the courtyard. The queen saw them off for good will, but her happiness rested on the one that would surely be returning instead. As she suspected, there was the Mantua-maker, wearing a cloak with the hood up while carrying a handbasket. She approached the front entrance up the flight of stone stairs where the queen was. Reaching into the basket, she pulled out a pink vile and handed it to her ruler. “It is done, m’lady. All I can do is give it to you. You must do the rest. I hope you find what you seek.” Suppressing the urge to give a hug, as it was unsightly in public areas to so informally touch the queen, the worker rushed inside after giving the queen the warmest smile she could. As she left, the queen peered upon the eerie pink bottle. The smoky liquid swirled in an ornate glass, a purple heart decorated the side. She felt an excitement within that she tried to control. Her husband would be hers once again.

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The following morning, the queen instructed the cooks that she wished to present breakfast to the king herself. They complied and provided the meal on a silver platter. Naturally, they offered some servants to carry it for her, but she refused. This time, she would have the honor of bringing her husband the nourishment he needed. Additionally, she needed no one to see her add the potion to the drink. As soon as she entered an empty hallway, she set the platter down on a side table and removed the vial from her person, emptying it into the cup browned with tea. The brown swirled with the new pink liquid, becoming a shade of cherry. Her eyes followed in concentration as the last of the fluid dripped from the glass. Shaking off the remaining droplets, she placed the top back on the bottle and hid it inside her dress. Picking up the tray, she continued on her path to the meeting room where the king met with experts, scholars, and inventors to convene with in the morning. He often had his first meal during such meetings to maximize the efficiency of the time he spent during the day.

The queen opened the door just as the last of the men exited. They bowed in greeting to her and she smiled in return, exchanging pleasantries quickly. They continued their leave, and so the queen entered the room where the king stood staring at an enlarged map of the kingdom that spanned a portion of the room. He stood with his back to the door and an arm behind him, analyzing areas to the south, the place they used to live only a couple months ago, and the swamps even further south than that. He was thinking about the last known location of the kingdom’s only threat, and the queen knew it. She huffed, attempting to contain her jealousy. She was here to renew his spark in her, after all. The king turned as her footsteps became louder the closer she walked towards him. He had expected to see the servant, but his eyes widened slightly when it was the queen instead. They exchanged awkward greetings towards each other. It had been a lengthy amount of time since they had the chance to speak in private.

The two sat at a nearby table, across from each other, and talked a bit. The time came that the queen was waiting for as the king brought the drink to his lips, sniffed it and raised a brow at the smell. He paid it no mind, however, and downed a gulp of the warm tea. It tasted pleasant, so he took another, a bite of something, and then washed it down with more of the liquid. The queen asked him if he was enjoying the meal, and he confirmed, smacking his lips and tongue a bit oddly after he finished the cup.

“We haven’t had much of a chance to spend time together for quite a while. It has been mulling around in my mind quite a bit for an awfully long time. I’m afraid you’re not interested in me anymore. Tell me. What do you think of me now?” Her earnest eyes looked to his from across the table. He swallowed hard and began getting hot. He raised a napkin to his mouth and coughed, then brought it towards his forehead to soak some sweat beginning to form.

“What do you mean? It’s merely a consequence of us taking up these important roles for the kingdom. There’s no escaping…It is only inevitable that we would have less…I...” His words began to jumble and slow as his skin turned pale and clammy. “Why would you think my interest in you is less?…I—I want to know…What did I just eat? What…What have—you done?” His pupils dilated and he coughed a fit before collapsing to the ground from the chair, writhing, struggling to move. The queen stared ahead at the display, her mouth agape. What was happening? The potion surely shouldn’t have had this kind of an affect. She got up and ran to her husband’s side, beginning to develop tears in her eyes. As she fell to her knees beside him, a cackling laughter echoed from behind her at the door to the room. There stood the evil witch, hunched and eager. Her hands clapped in amusement.

“Well done, dearie. You played your part so lovingly well. I cannot imagine an easier way to have convinced you.” She paced into the room slowly, and with a snap of her fingers the doors to the room were shut and barred. The queen began weeping for her husband, his eyes wide, staring at the witch, desperate to put up some kind of a fight. “Oh, not to worry, the potion wasn’t poison, merely an elixir to paralyze him. I need his body for what comes next.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was fed up with how things were. My jealousy for your attention made me resent you, and I lacked the compassion that I should have always given you. She tricked me, gave me a love potion and said it would bring you back to me. Please—please forgive me. I’m so sorry.” She grasped at the garments of her husband’s chest, clinging to him. Her gaze rose to the witch, coming ever closer. “You. What do you plan to do to us? You cannot have him, I won’t let you!” She unsheathed the golden sword from her husband’s side and stood up, charging towards the old woman. The witch let out a vicious guffaw and extended her arm with an open palm. A blast of purple energy flared forth at the queen, knocking her backwards and sending the golden sword flying forward behind the witch. The queen slid back to the king, she felt drained but rolled onto her stomach and turned towards him, his teeth gnashing, trying to summon the strength to move. He gave it one more go, but nothing he tried could move his numb body. He rested his head back in resented submission. The queen held his head in her lap when she strained into a position that would allow. Tears began to drip from her eyes and slid down her face.

“I’m—sorry too, my dear. You…were right. I should have paid more mind to your—to your needs. I put myself before you, when—when you should have been in front of everything else. Even. Even before that hag—” he struggled to speak more, but the queen tried to hush him to save his energy.

“Well, if we are all done saying our goodbyes, I’ll be taking him now.” The witch snapped her fingers and the king hovered into the air, his body surrounded in a purple aura. The queen struggled to hold him down, but the force of the body’s movement was too much to resist. The king became upright and his arms and legs extended in a Vitruvian manner. The queen shouted out in protest.

“What are you doing? Stop! Leave him be. What—what are you planning to do to him?” She cried out and barely coughed out the question. The witch fired beams of purple to the walls of the room. The energy impact melded into runes of power. She drew a circle beneath the king with beams shooting from both her hands. The circle pulsed with energy and contracted to a dot, then grew back to original size but containing runic words and symbols. The witch cackled in victory.

“You should be honored to witness the transformation of his majesty. He will become the host to my adored one, a magnificent warlock who taught me the dark arts. He was felled by this very man before he was prince, and my heart was torn in two when he did so,” a wretched glare came from the witch stabbing towards the king. The queen swore that her eyes began to water as she frowned deeply, “but it is of little consequence now. I will commune with the spirits of the netherworld and summon forth his fallen soul, then transmit it into the king. Then, together once again, we will rule this kingdom and bring it into a new era of absolute control. We will bring the neighboring kingdoms to their knees and the world will belong to us alone!” Her arms extended upwards and green beams fired into the stone ceiling, creating a similar circle directly above the one below the king. The green circle did just as the purple one, contracting and growing, drawing more runes.

The queen began to weep deeply for her husband. “No…You can’t change him. This kingdom needs him. His children need him. I—I need him!” She sobbed and wailed as the king strained himself once again, though it was for naught. He managed to turn his head towards the queen who was to his side. She was on the ground and outside the circle which she could not enter, though she tried, feeling the circle scorch the fingers she passed above it. “No…my love.”

“Save yourself and do not concern yourself for me. What will become of me, I do not know, but you must take care of our children. I did what I could to protect you and the young ones, and I failed. I can never atone for that—however, you must carry on! Or…Or everything I’ve done will be for absolutely nothing! So—survive with me gone, and do not fall for the monster that I will become. But…Take with you the knowledge that I…I…” The evil witch sneered and strengthened her grasp on him. The purple aura shined brighter and the king shut his eyes tight in resistance. The witch chanted some words and the green circle above grew intensely bright. It became a portal that swirled with energy. Faces began to appear from through the portal, circling and mixing. One was pulled through, however ghostly and green in appearance. It bore the head of a man and slowly descended in front of the witch. The eyes, previously shut, burst open to reveal two shining crimson orbs. They looked directly ahead to the witch, and a corner of his phantom lips tilted upwards in a smirk.

“My dear, my prize. You’ve come to me.” She extended a hand towards the ghost, but her fingers were chilled by the spirit’s touch. She frowned quickly, but a smile grew again. “It is time. Take your host. Infect his soul. Return to the world of the living. Return—to me!” The spirit slowly inched towards the king who struggled even more so. He turned his head back to the queen.

“My beloved, you must always remember. Always. That I…” The queen shook her head in disbelief, but joined him, not knowing what else to do.

“My love, I also—Forever…I…” The two then shouted to each other in unison.

“I love you!”

The witch shrieked loudly, filling the room with her bellow. The brightness of the runes throughout the room, as well as the circles of power, began to wane. The light powering them started to dissipate, then grow, then dissolve again. Both the king and queen looked towards the witch in her commotion. A sword punctured her chest from behind. A maroon stain expelled from the wound, soaking her clothing. Her body seized forth and her eyes lowered to the golden blade stabbed right through her body. The room quaked and rumbled as the runes began to disappear one after the other. The soul of the warlock slithered towards the portal, sucked through with no hesitation as the concentration of the spell wavered. It shut immediately following and collapsed to a blink of a dot until there was nothing. The king fell towards the ground as the purple circle beneath him vanished as well.

The queen rushed towards the side of the king and held him up. They both looked to the witch who was breathing heavily as she collapsed to her hands and knees. As she did so, their savior was revealed. Skinny arms reached for the handle of the blade buried into the back of the witch and drew it out of her through the same hole. “For my father and my mother, king and queen of the kingdom! They will live long and reign well…and you will cease to be, missed by not a single soul.” The witch collapsed to the ground in pain and shed tears of her own. She crawled forward a few inches before reaching her hand out in front of her.

“My treasure. My beautiful…I’m coming,” she spoke as she coughed up a splatter of blood, drizzling from her lips. “I will be with you soon…finally.” A few more gasps for breath, a few more inches crept before she collapsed in death. The boy tossed the sword to the side and ran to his parents who welcomed his embrace.

“Mother, Father, I’m sorry. I snuck in here when Father was learning how to be king, hoping to learn too. I was going to leave, but then you came, Mother. So, I had to hide. I was afraid of being scolded.” The queen—the mother—brought her son close. She held him so tight, she was afraid he would suffocate, but he reciprocated. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and they were so contagious that the boy’s eyes began to build up with them as well. Even the king joined in, holding them both as the paralysis from the potion began to wear off. If they were perceptive enough to notice, they might have caught a tear of his fall.

The doors to the room bashed with the force of a legion of men. Slams came forth, one after the other, stronger each time, until the doors flung wide, revealing the royal guard who charged in. “Your majesty! Your highness!” the soldiers called as they poured in. From beneath them squeezed the middle child, holding the youngest in her arms, tears in both their eyes, as well.

“Mommy! Daddy! Brother!” She wailed as she ran towards the three, collapsing into them all. The five of them joined together, in safety, comforted that the rest were unharmed. From this emanated the greatest symbol of love the kingdom had ever known.

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So, you see, my dear. This is the prime example of that which we are responsible to strive for and achieve amongst ourselves and our beloved. You may wonder how I know this, how I learned to understand and appreciate the true meaning of love. Well, I had the best parents in the entire kingdom to teach me this. So, if you feel the same, and I sincerely hope you do, let us spend an eternity together recreating such devotion. I will never forsake you, and you should always remember the greatest words of affection that is within my ability to share with you: that I love you, and I always will.

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A/N: Happy Valentines Day, everyone. 6,422 words. I tried to go under, I really did. Hope it's acceptable.

The opening and closing paragraphs as well as the absence of character names make it feel a lot like a classic tale you'd hear around a campfire. Plot-wise, I can't help but wonder if it was necessary for the witch to go through the trouble of paralyzing the king. She seemed pretty strong. Granted, not so strong that she couldn't be taken by surprise and stabbed in the back, but still.



You made it a hell of a lot closer to 6,000 than I did at least!

The limit is bubkiss and you know it!

Thank you, though. The opening and closing might be my favorite parts.

I know it seemed like she was quite powerful compared to him, but as she confessed with disdain, the king did kill the warlock who taught her, after all.

I will be getting to actually reading yours soon.

I am rather lost after skimming through the entry. Take the first part where a man steps into a room occupied by a woman and an infant. I have little idea who they are and what do they have to do the story as a whole. What were the scouts chasing after? What was the prince doing? Why the scene where the royal guards honed their swordcraft? What funeral? All of these are scenes that I have difficulty stringing into a coherent plot.

I blame my pet peeve of the need to have an introduction that indicated who the characters were and why do they matter. I noticed that the format of this entry is really similar to the winning entry of the Winter Contest where I had difficulty stringing the scenes together. If there were some transitional sentences that connected one scene to another, it could help orientate me as what is going on.

The parts where I understood a little on what was going on were the parts that went into a narration of what the king and the queen did after the coronation and the confrontation with the witch. I believed there was some dialogue that indicated what was happening like the witch attempting to transplant a warlock's soul into our male lead the king.

I wonder how others like d manage to understand what is going on. It could help me appreciate formats like these. Even after reading the first part word for word, I still could not understand the entry.

Sometimes reading a story requires you to play the role of investigator. It engages the reader a bit more, requiring them to do some mental processes in order to find out what the situation at hand is. Although I would love to write out the entire situation word-for-word, I think it would be too boring for the reader, and I have story progress to make.

I promise you most things have very logical assumptions based on the situation, as I intended for this story to not be so deep as some of my others. I actually wanted to write a rather straight-forward tale. I'd love to answer every question you'd like to ask if you think it will help you understand it, but I can't imagine anything being too incomprehensible. What sorts of things would you like explained? Do you understand the first part after reading the whole thing or are you still confused?

It wouldn't be too boring for me as a reader of newspapers (which some here can argue could be the most boring thing to read) if the plot was told conventionally. What grabs the attention of this reader is how the plot advances and more importantly what the characters would do in such a situation.

Since it is written in the way where the reader is left to figure out how the plot develops, it is hard for me to see how the plot advances and harder to sympathise with the characters in the story because I don't know what they have to do with the plot. Take the man, woman and the infant at the start of the story. What do they have to do with our main characters, the King and the Queen being killed by the witch? (I think it is told anachronologically; after the witch committed regicide, she is sent to burn at the stake. The man told both the woman and her infant that he is going to see the burning) Since I could get it wrong, I am much more comfortable if the plot is spelt out for me.

Also, I would not like to spend too much time rereading the entry so I don't really try to figure it out.

PS: When I said "understanding what was going on", I meant understanding how the plot progresses. I can read the words but I am left wondering what does it have to do with the main story? What do I need to pay attention to? I believe it is because it jumps into what seems to be another story like the winning Winter Contest entries and the entry by turiondel called Bird's Eye View (which I suspect are three separate stories cut up and scattered all over)

It may be clear from turiondel's entry that it is three separate stories. Not so for your entry it seems which appears to be a story set in the same universe.

PPS: Let me guess, your story is about the deaths of our main characters and how everyone is responding to it?

Actually, everything is exactly chronological.

It's interesting to hear how you're interpreting the story. You're actually running into problems I never anticipated people would, and it intrigues me.

Summary Spoiler:


I think the story spills out rather directly from that point, but let me know if I can clarify anything else.

I think, whenever I tried to read your writings. I need an extra amount of patience and attention to fully appreciate it. not saying it's a bad thing. though yeah, I guess most of time I'm thinking, yeah the read's better be worth it or I'll be truly disappointed.

that aside, I find your work to have a great potential on delivering something epic. how should I say it? but the potential is somehow wasted on the overuse of descriptions that were somehow exhausting for me to read it all. I know the main plot, and I know how it's going on at the start to finish, but it doesn't focus on the detail which makes me care for the story.

I think I could appreciate this story much better if more focus are granted on the characters, on how I could relate and care about them better, rather than the mere mundane descriptions about how things moved and how things looked each single time. I probably thought that this kind of resembled a movie, but I don't really like how it's done.

it kinda lacks the things which makes me feel for the characters, since my focus are diverted towards the descriptions and details that I don't really think it's important. still, it has its own shining moments like when they confronted the witch.

though even if the end was clear and the story was told chronologically with a way that's easy to understand in a broad idea, I still thought the way the motive was written so subtly kinda makes the overall meaning to be, you know, kind of lost in the middle.

I think, it's more about my preference on minimizing the scenery details towards the general idea and focusing on the characters and dialogues which made me truly appreciate the story. that which made me unable to appreciate it as much as I do enjoy reading The Modern Pilgrim. in the end, I could say that it's an impressive effort put. sorry that you have to put up with me and my unpleasant opinions.

once again, well done.

Oh, it is no matter. It is as you say, this story is not about the progression of an epic tale filled with wonder. It's about love. Love earned and love lost, love diminished and love replenished, love threatened and love protected. It's not a fantasy with warring nations, but about a woman who fears her husband doesn't love her, and man who loves his family so he tries to protect them, even if it means he can't spend time with them, a woman who loves her lost love so much that she descends to evil tasks in an attempt to restore him, a son that loves his parents so much that he would kill for them. Yes, this is an entry about the feelings of love and less about speech. For as we well know, love is very rarely something that can be conveyed verbally.

I'd say that was my inspiration behind this piece, in addition to how love is maintained over long periods of time. It is a short-story that will probably be enjoyed more by those who seek love more than pride. I just think this story is more likely to be enjoyed by women than men haha. It is a fairy tale about love, after all.

But, thank you for your honesty. I'm sorry for wasting your time if you expected something grand. I write very detail-heavy and serious stories because...I think that's just as much my style as much as satire is leonard's.

But, I love this story, and I think it may be better than The Modern Pilgrim (which, if I recall correctly, you didn't really like either haha) because I think I have more capability and potential behind the universe and stories. The Modern Pilgrim is a story about Zeke and his mental battle, and that is all, but this is a story about so much more. I think I could take this further if I wanted. We shall see.

Thank you for your comments and honesty.

nah don't misunderstand, I actually like Modern Pilgrim alot because of the psychological battles and such. sure I can learn to appreciate detail heavy things and I probably know your tendency to like elaborate details, but next time please spare my brain okay?

after reading your work I kind of reminded myself of my own tendency to write highly surrealist thingy which apparently has too much nonsense and abstraction. some others who deem coherence and logical aperture to be a necessity for stories will probably had their brains hurting far more than simply reading things with lots of attention to detail. or rather, their own sanity completely broke lel. so yeah, just disregard what I write earlier and just create the epics just like you wanted.

I myself will try to broaden my horizons to see if I could start to broaden my horizons. man what I am saying lol. to put it simply, I'll just try to start appreciating things outside my preference. okay, that's it.

First, what do you mean when you say you skim through something? If you're only reading snatches of what's going on here and there, then I can't help but feel that it's your own fault that you're lost.

You might just be thinking too hard sometimes. Not every detail is part of the grand scheme. For example, soldiers practicing could simply be nothing more than a backdrop for a conversation between two characters.

Sometimes, it helps to accept things as they are. If they come up later, okay. If they don't, then whatever. I found this to be essential to keeping my sanity in Calculus.

Thank you for the read, it is appreciated.

The limit didn't hinder the story from developing how it did, but I did consider some more back-story to the witch that I decided not to include because it wasn't pertinent to the story at hand.

The queen was gullible, but also desperate.

And yes, I did mean faring. Great catch! I love being corrected.

This is in line with my reading habits as a reader of essays and articles. I skim through the entire article, pick out keywords, transition sentences and topic sentences, have a general idea of what is being written then I would read the article properly.

When I tried to do that, I am completely lost. This being fiction is not written in the format that I am used to. There was no explanation as to who the characters are; like your entry, important points were explained through dialogue that can be so easily missed and it felt like watching a film. (I imagine that we would have flashes of the witch our hero wanted to catch in that film but that can't be done on paper) So, it is difficult to pick plot details. I would have preferred some exposition.

(It is hinted in the dialogue that he is searching for a witch but I misinterpreted that. I thought that the witch was caught and he was looking for some other woman!)

There weren't any transition sentences (which made me misunderstand turiondel's entry) instead Xenon goes for a literal break in the story marked by three dashes. (Is it the break that you were talking about in your remarks about my entry?) Transition sentences indicate that another point is being made. I would have preferred a sentence indicating that the witch hunt was off or exposition about the scene we are about to transit into. What was done instead was a scene of a ten year old boy training which made me think, "Is it another character that I missed out?"

I hope you know that I tried reading the first few paragraphs again word by word to figure out what was going on but to no avail. If I can't understand the first part of the story then it would be difficult to understand what follows next.

I did do what you told me to only to ignore parts that I could not understand only to find out that I am skipping large chunks of the story. Once again, I picked out the funeral, I picked out the training scene, I picked out the coronation, I picked out the confrontation but I could not string together a story in my head.

Adding on to what high_time said, I disagree that the use of description was a bad thing. Quite the opposite, it orientated me. I just wish that more third person writing can be devoted to exposition of the characters and the setting.


PS: Xenon, the first part of your story made more sense now. I am still puzzled about the prince who was training after the first break. Is he one of the sons of our hero? (not the baby)

What appears to be the problem here is my reading style. I don't really digest each word. I treat your entry like a written report and browse through them instead. Most readers of written reports would have to deal with plenty of reports so he can't read the report slowly.

well that's what I mainly referring about, the exposition of the characters. though to be said, I am very bad at heavily detailed things.

My mistake. I thought the prince was the 10 year old boy. I wanted to know who the 10 year old boy was. I suppose he is not the baby from the first part. To complicate matters of course, the prince becomes king and the 10 year old boy must become prince.

That is why I use the word 'hero' or the main character of the story who is the Prince in pursuit of the witch.

Yes, that is indeed how monarchies work, I believe.

I see the king and queen as equal main characters, perhaps even the son since his perspective is told from for a small part. Of course, you're free to identify the main character as you wish.

Eh, transitions can be off-putting if handled badly. I myself had no problems with the transitions from scene to scene in this story though. They're more like mini-chapters in this case. They all come together, but alone, they're sorta self-contained.



I didn't say to completely ignore stuff. What I meant was stop worrying about how everything fits together.

That is the problem for me. If there is no proper transition, I would view the chapters as separate stories especially if it begins with some new character or a totally different setting. That was what happened to me when I read Xenon's and turiondel's entries.



At some point of time, I would still have to piece everything together. I misunderstood what you said. I thought you were implying that I should ignore the parts that are not so relevant to the story.



Really depends on the political situation. Some crowns pass on to distant cousins like what had happened during the Glorious Revolution (which wasn't really bloody) of 1688 or when the . Of course, we have the bloodier revolutions in China that sees a new family being installed.