We were once lovely
model of perfection, royalty so charming and beauty overwhelming. Lovely and
loving in gowns so soft and vibrant, twirling under a skyscape of stars every
night. Soft tinkling laughter, low murmurs of kindness and warmth and all of
this in our great Hall, our great King presiding.
So long ago now and
what terrible things have since transpired. Somewhere, a clock struck the close
of our happiness, a feat accomplished by our own hands. Those beautiful lights
blinked out like dying fireflies and our gowns gave way to rags. Barefoot and broken
hearted, we found ourselves running through woods full of things we’d never
dreamed of, dire shadows of evils unknown.
We happened across a
book lying in a glade, left by our King. Though its’ sweet words of hope should
have strengthened us, it instead separated our group as each chose a different
path. Our paths changed us, as sorrows often do and the memory of our great
Hall whittled into a sadness that rested deep in our hearts. The book was lost.
One tried to ease the
sadness by building wealth and living a wild life, full of happiness that
lasted for short whiles. One found plants in the woods that erased all feeling
at all. Once gave away all her precious belongings in hopes of something
beautiful in return. One found safety and comfort in harm, wounds that never
quite seemed to heal. One never stopped travelling, seeking happiness in the
right place to call home.
Had our lives ever
been different? Didn’t we always trudge on through each day, peasants covered
in mud? Sometimes we dreamed of haunting music or of a kind laughter, full of
love, but we always woke up.
One found the book
and understood what it truly meant. Heart dancing at the thought of finding the
answer, of the sadness eased, the question asked for the last time. Ever
wandering to tell the truth to others, hopeful of the promised new Hall, we
found each other again and broke through the haze of lies we’d submitted to.
