10 years ago
It was dark. Lightning flashed in the window outside, winds blowing the drapes around the room. Each flash illuminated the area, shadows finding their way along the walls and floor. In the room, a bed sat along the wall, white curtains hanging along each side, hiding the bed from sight.
Inside, a young child huddled under the white covers, peering over the edge, flashes illuminating their face. Their eyes showed signs of fright, darting around the room after each burst of lightning lit the room.
At the corner of her eye, the child kept thinking they were seeing figures in the shadows, creeping up closer to the bed after each flash. Please let this be a dream.
The figures were pure darkness, silhouettes that didn’t have a form. They made no noise, floating in and out of view. Darkness shed from them, leaking to the ground, dissipating on impact. They had formless claws, thin as razors, extending out towards the curtains.
Just as the shadows seemed to disappear for good, the curtain moved, brushing aside as one of the figures came into view. The child screamed, holding up their hands to block the monster, a futile task at that point. Right when the shadow loomed over, ready to strike, white energy burst from the child’s hand, drowning the room in a brilliant white light.
The shadow let out a pained scream, like nails on chalkboard, pushing back through the curtains, fleeing through the open window, out into the stormy night. The others in the room fled the same way, letting out their own wails, filling the room with more pained screams.
The child watched as they all dispersed, realizing this was never a dream. The surroundings were never fuzzy, they also felt the shadow looming over them, a feeling they knew could never be replicated in a dream.
Taking a quick look around, the child did not see any other shadows, though she kept wary. As she kept watching, the walls started to swirl around, moving around when she wasn’t. The curtains scrunched up, moving in that same way, though the child did not move with it.
The sounds from the room drowned out, a persistent ringing filling her ear. She heard faint footsteps in the distance, getting closer by the second, but then all noise stopped. She looked around, terrified to not hear anything, when in front of her, the wall opened.
A man floated through, adorned in a robe of black, inlaid with gold trim, designs with letters that she did not understand. He had brown hair, pulled back into a bun, strands hanging on each side of his face. He had a closely shaved beard, framing his sleek jaw. He had black boots, set with gold buckles. His arms were crossed as he floated his way over to her. He had a grin on his face, in a joking manner.
The man reached out, pushed aside the curtains, and tilted down, facing the child. “I know you won’t remember this, but I am Jekha, and you have been blessed too soon.” The steps from outside grew ever closer, the man saying one last thing. “You will see me again another time, this is for your own good.” As he said that, he reached out, placing his right thumb on her forehead, and in the next instant the child felt something pull from her, a light radiating from Jekha’s finger. He brought his thumb back, pressing it against his robe, one of the symbols lighting up, one of many that did so.
Satisfied, he motioned downwards, the child’s head dropping, losing consciousness. Jekha blinked out of existence as the light from the door opening entered the bedroom, guards and the current king of Plohara entering. They made their way to the child, the king jostling her shoulder.
“Minara, are you okay?” the king said as he jostled her, Minara opening her eyes, looking up at him, “We heard screams coming from this way, we wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I think so, I had a bad dream, there were monsters trying to come get me, and I was so scared,” Minara said as her eyes welled up with tears.
The king embraced her, Minara burying her head into his shoulder, her crying filling the silent room, “I will always be here for you, and will be by your side when you need me most, honey.”
A few minutes went by, the guards filtering their way out of the room, till it was only Minara and the king left, sitting on the edge of the bed.
The king placed his hand on her cheek, Minara nestling her cheek into his palm. “I think it is time for you to get back to sleep, I will have some guards outside the room, ready to come in if anything else happens, okay?” The king said as he stood, pushing back through the curtains.
“Wait, can you tuck me back in, Dad?” Minara said, peeking her head over the blankets, eyeing him with begging eyes.
“I guess I can this time, honey,” the king said as he moved back over, reaching around, pushing the blankets around and under Minara, giving her a small kiss on her forehead, “Now, I will head back to my study. If anything happens, I’m just next door.”
The king made his way to the door, pushing through into the dimly lit hallway, shadows dancing on the stone hallway as the king passed. He looked back, watching Minara slide further underneath, closing her eyes as she felt safe once more. He turned, exiting into the corridor, being met by one of his attendants.
“Astaros, we have heard communications fr…” Their voices drowned out as the door closed behind them.
Minara felt calm at last, nestling into the covers, the warmth leading to a sleep full of wonderful dreams, ones drowning out the one that was or wasn’t.
________
Minara walked up to the mirror, looking herself up and down. It was the day she had been dreading for years. It was the day of her crowning as Princess of Plohara.
She wore a blue dress, from her neck down to her calves. It flowed out, coming down in tiers, each one representing a milestone she has passed in life. Each one was a slightly different shade, blue fabrics almost impossible to make the same color twice.
On her left wrist was a thin golden band, etched with diagonal crossing lines. Her middle finger had a ring, clear jewels lining the top, a large emerald cut in the middle.
On her right wrist was a red and yellow band weaved with feathers from the national bird, the teak sprout.
She wore sandals, leather bands crossing the full length of her foot, connecting at the ankle
Her black hair went down to the middle of her back, the front hair pulled back and pinned in place, a few strands left in front to frame her face.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Morning light passed through her drapes, glinting in her dark brown eyes. One strand of hair fell in front of her eye, so she pushed it away, her birthmark under her right eye coming into view.
“Okay, time to go, I can do this, for everyone else,” Minara muttered as she looked over one last time, before making her way to the door.
She pushed through, out into the hallway of the castle, home of her family and many attendants. She started down to the left, making her way to the main courtyard where everyone was to gather.
She passed her fathers study, empty at the moment but usually bustling with activity, before making it to the end of the hall. Minara chose to go the long way, turning right and heading down the sloped floor.
In the castle, every other turn led down a sloped runway, so instead of flat floors, the castle was tiered. The floors circled around a central alcove, from which you could see down to the hidden courtyard, one Minara revered and loved, a place she could relax and tend to her studies.
As she descended, she looked over the edge, peering downwards to see if anyone was still in the silent place, but it was deserted. As she continued, she passed the kitchen, full of action. She heard the clanging of metal on metal, felt the emanating warmth and the sensuous aromas, she could already tell what they had prepared, one of her favorites.
Finally she arrived at the bottom floor, the railings opening up to reveal the garden courtyard, in the center sitting a small wooden bench, worn from constant use.
She walked up, took a seat, and looked around, the midmorning sun sending rays of light down into the courtyard, making her feel more comfortable. The scent of the plants wafted around her, a mixture of greenery and aromaticity.
In the distance, horns blared, breaking the silence, signaling the approach of the ceremony. Minara looked around, knowing that was her signal, walking back through the opening back into the castle. She kept going straight, through the main hallway entrance, her steps echoing in the spacious hallway. It was adorned with many art pieces, ones depicting different events in history, and others stylized portraits of kings and queens of the past. In the future, here might be up there as well.
At the main door, Minara stopped and took in a quick deep breath. She felt herself losing tension, her heart slowing down, relief washing over her whole body. She pushed forward through the massive wooden doors, out into the sunlight and at the top of the main courtyard in front of the castle.
________
Below, the cheers of many erupted from the crowd, the stairs leading to the small outpost overlooking the crowd seemed daunting. Minara took the first step, more cheers erupting and a flock of attendants reaching out to help Minara finish her descent to the outpost. Minara waved them off, keeping her gait clear and confident, step by step closing in.
“Here we have my daughter, the one and only Minara, one of the brightest of the country,” Astaros’s voice echoed in the courtyard, “Today, being sworn in as one of the successors to our kingdom.”
Astaros looked back, beckoning for Minara to come forward, to face the billowing crowd, and deliver her speech. Minara stepped up beside him, embracing him, Astaros giving her a kiss on her forehead. She let go, turning to face the crowd, ready to deliver her speech, one she had not wanted to do, but was forced to.
“Greetings everyone, as you all know I am Minara Pfeistos, daughter of king Astaros Pfeistos,” Minara started, “and today, I am honored to be accepting this position and prestige as one of the figureheads of this country.”
She looked out over the crowd, thousands waiting to hear her words, “Throughout my life, I have been hesitant to be in the forefront, involved in politics and pleasantries, preferring to work in the background on more pressing issues such as agriculture and academics, but combining the two could lead to new innovations and the betterment of our people.”
The crowd clapped and cheered, Minara quieting for a moment until they finished. When they did she started again, “I hope I can live up to my father and help this country blossom and grow, helping you all in the process. Now, is everyone ready to celebrate?”
The crowd went absolutely crazy, yells and cries coming out, and Minara started her way down to the courtyard floor, skipping down the steps fast, quickly approaching the crowd. At the bottom, she yelled out, “We have a wonderful feast prepared, and everyone's invited, come on up!”
Minara started her way back up, the crowd following behind her, making their way towards the bustling castle, servants running around with mounds of food and drinks, enough to feed all of the city twice over.
At the top of the steps, Minara stepped aside and helped guide citizens to the many tables and areas with all of the decadent cuisine, the aroma wafting throughout, tantalizing in smell and taste. Over walked two young men, wearing black and blue coats with matching pants to boot, an insignia of House Pfeistos on the front above their left breast.
One held the remains of a muffin, crumbs drifting to the grass, and the other held an iced wine, sipping lightly.
“So, where did you get all of that confidence today?” The one holding the muffin said, as he tossed it at Minara, “You haven’t been one for engrossment in politics and pizazz.”
“I have done what I must and what I am drawn to,” Minara spouted out, smacking the muffin back at him, “And I won’t take such nonsense from someone like you, Galan.”
Galan smiled, dodging the incoming muffin, “I don’t mean to upset you, Minara, you just have never seemed one to enter into the spotlight, and you won’t be leaving it now.”
“He is right,” The one carrying wine inserted, “There really isn’t a situation where you might be able to extricate yourself from the eyes of the many from now on.”
“I see your point, Rolando, and I have that in my plan to keep my privacy, while I also become more public than ever,” Minara said while looking around anxiously, watching the crowd intermingle among themselves.
“I feel there may be other more important things to worry about, though,” Rolando said while taking a sip of his wine, “The Peace treaty between Plohara and Galhock is being ratified in the next few weeks, the final details being ironed out mostly by father, his advisors, and other city lords of Plohara. Even I had a chance to look it over and the depictions it entails shows restrictions for our trade and commerce that could lead to havoc down the road for us as a whole.”
Minara looked over with an inquisitive look, “You were able to look it over? I have never seen such fervor for those dealings ever come about from you, Rolando, and I don’t see you with the proper knowledge to add anything worthwhile.”
“I have been attending meetings by father’s side for years. Have you forgotten that small detail?”
“No, I have not forgotten anything, but when I’ve walked by those meetings, I have not seen a soul under 50 in there.”
“Well, you might need to look a little harder, because I have been there since I was 18, it has been 7 years, and the input that I contribute has led to further economic and cultural growth in our country. I have worked tirelessly to better my understanding of trade, while you stayed in your room, working on nothing of importance.”
Minara grabbed Rolando’s wine, taking a sip herself, “I have read and studied history, of our countries and world, sciences, culinary arts, and others not of importance right now. How dare you slander my name such as you’ve done.”
Minara drank the rest of the glass, wiping her mouth with the back of her left hand, cutting into her left cheek, lashing out “Fala shusarak!” She was not one to curse and using an ancient tongue such as Old Ruluk wouldn’t be understood by most, but Rolando and Galan understood the premise.
“Will you excuse me, I must tend to this before any of our people see,” Minara spouted as she walked away, her face feeling hot around the cut, a drop of blood sliding down her cheek. Rolando and Galan both looked at each other, wondering why she was so aggressive today, against any usual behavior of hers, and their gazes told they did not know the reason.
________
Minara walked off to the left, back towards the castle, where a small tent was set up, walking into the brightly lit interior. A few attendants were moving around, moving kits filled with ointments, creams, and other such items for any situation. An attendant with a concentrated look on her face turned, seeing Minara standing at the entrance, blood running down her cheek.
“Oh, heavens be, what have you gotten yourself into Minara?” The attendant spoke as she rushed over, grabbing some damp cloth on the way over to Minara, dabbing at her cheek, “You’ve only just become princess, I can’t see you getting yourself hurt, how did this happen?”
Minara looked around, trying to hide her embarrassment, holding up her left hand, “You know the ring I usually wear right here? I was wiping a drop of wine off of my mouth, and I believe that I got myself a bit.”
“You need to be a little more careful, Farrow gems are some of the sharpest in the world, I’ve seen some wild injuries from those things,” The attendant said as they applied a thin cram over the area, the heat dissipating over the next few seconds. Minara was always amazed at what the castle's alchemists were able to make, things that have helped her over the years, though she didn’t have a clue what was in each one.
As the pain and heat dissipated, a cold sensation permeated around the cut, feeling better than ever for her. The cream had all but disappeared, the cute already starting to close up. Minara was astonished, she had never seen anything work that fast on her before.
“Well, I’ll be. It looks to have already started to close up. I haven’t seen something like that in years,” The attendant said as she inspected the cut site closer, “Are you sure that this was a real cut?”
Minara looked towards Donella with a bewildered look, “Of course it was, Donella. I wouldn’t have wanted to leave the gathering if it was possible not to. What would people say of the princess leaving her own induction before meeting with her people? I already feel bad enough having to leave for a moment to deal with this.”
“I didn’t mean to offend Minara, just basing it off of past tendencies. I mean, you do not have a reputation of enjoying large gatherings.”
“That is okay, my mind and emotions are all over the place currently due to the coronation. I don’t know if I am up to the task, even though I have spent my whole life studying every academic topic under the sun. Putting it to the test feels completely different. And this cut was definitely real, Galan and Rolando saw the gem cut into my skin, and it felt pretty real to me.”
Donella backed away, walking to a table with flasks of water, filled to the brim, grabbing one and handing it to Minara, “I know what you mean, I did not believe I could work over all of the menders, but I am here now, no fear or anxiety towards my work. Here, this flask has some cool water, take a sip and head back out to the festivities.”
Minara grabbed the flask, bringing it to her lips, taking a quick sip, feeling the refreshing liquid coating her dry mouth, something she hadn’t paid much attention to with everyone else going on. “You were right, Donella. It did help quite a bit,” She smiled, “You better stay here a while longer, until I am old enough to become queen, you are quite the asset.”
Donella laughed, “Of course I am, young Minara, you just haven’t needed me enough yet, and I hope it stays that way,” Donella started backing away, her voice growing softer, “Off you go, child.”
I must make her one of my closest attendants, Minara thought as she made her way back to the others, joining the celebration, filled with a renewed spirit.
