Well, I wasn't expecting this to come out of me, but I was bored out of my mind on a Saturday afternoon, and kind of lost myself into this little diddy. It's a fantasy novella, but it's so much more than just fantasy. It's not your everyday Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. First released here. The image below is my creation, the rest here are from the interweb[/size]
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Chapter 1:
Flowers of the Heart"I searched this whole world over, but you're the one I am dreaming of..." The familiar voice comes and goes, visions of the boy from her youthful summers appear every now and then, but this morning was harder than the rest, since it was the morning before her only 'child' leave for the King's mission, leaving her alone, like all the rest."I promise I'll never leave you until the day I die. You and I, were meant for each other."
Summers, were the eyes of the storm tempting to relax, before fall's coldness, and after spring's rains. Laze', and you'll dig your own grave.
"Born to bloom, bloom to ashes" Old fingers pick the two sticks of dwelted orange carnations from a copper vase, and pushed them into the grey hair. Strong hair still, twas a genetic gift, none the less. Orange, once meant, 'I adore you', but not quite ,'I love you', but it's much sweeter than black, which were worn on the dress.
Her voice much softer than her image, "Once my true love gave me a rose, whisper the soft words, I love you so. Once my true love gave me his heart, whisper the soft words, I love you so. And when you need me, all you have to do is pluck the petals. I'll be there, all you have to do is pluck the petals so, and I'll be there." A little folk hymn popular back in the days when the colors of the flowers had meaning, red meant church bells, and it was the song that played in her head when her boyfriend gave her the reddest rose she ever saw. Blue eyes. Tanned skin. And his wavy dark-blonde hair pushed back, tied at back, with the sole black ribbon all the young men used to wear.
He placed the red rose into her nearly black hair. Girls no longer wear the flowers anymore, and boys don't ever pluck the flowers from the gardens. The boys were like the flowers meanings, since they no longer exist anymore except.
He is real! All my dreams came true. Her joy could not be withheld, and she remember not being able to speak or even look into his eyes for more than a few seconds. He put his hand on her hand, and slowly lean into her face. His water cologne of incense and roses filled her nostrils. And then he... A smile spreaded across her face. And then...!
"Aahh" The elderly woman jumped up, startled, till she realize the cat was doing it's 'morning' greeting. "Oak! You scared me!,"
Broken light pressed down from the rooftop hole, the dust particles floating ever so like small feathers of chickens running in fright from the wolfs' reach. Every other season, the men of the village patched up the ceiling when she turned into a widow and a single mother in one day, until she realized their help descended with every grey hair that popped up. Men, are bees to honey in the prescence of youthful maiden, or beauty, combination is deadly, yet she prepared herself for the winter, for by that time, her beauty was in September. The leaves from the trees turn orange, stiffed branches, and the village birds turn South for new conquest.
Conquest, the death of many young soldiers, not by war, but by easing your guard to the enemy, offering your neck for an easy death. She turned to her stand mirror, youth is like a flower, and she smiled acknowelding with age comes peace in a life well lived, and not a life in the invisible bubble above your head. Her fingers pulled back her eyelids, trying to form a face she used to know long ago. Alas, beauty has escaped me. A life thorned with secrets is a rose, that pricks those who appreciate her beauty and never lets ones into the heart. Beneath her mirror, was her only dream.
"Why do I miss you so," she gazed at the painting of her late husband, "Why did it take you and not I? I will always wonder so, you' so full of dreams. Passion for living' I call it" His dark eyes, contrasted by the lightness of his blonde hair, stare coldly back. A dream frozen in time, not a wrinkle in sight, that has escape her like all her other dreams. For dreams don't put food on the table, nor do they keep you warm at night. Only your hands can put food on the table.
"Well come along you, we must surprise Bradley before the sun sets." A black cat purred against her leg, as she picked up the fruit basket, but mostly green apples, from her table. She turned back, eyes downwards. Green apples, not quite sweet, but sturdy to survive much longer than the fruits of the village.
"Soon he'll be gone, Oak" the cat purred, "You'll be man of the house soon enough. What ever shall we do we ourselves? It seems like yesterday, Bradley found you as a kitten in the river, but it has been just little over half a decade." She collected herself, "Promise me you'll never leave me too" The cat purred once more, as if saying yes, or perhaps no,
"Don't have to answer, promises are meant to be broken after all," she smiled down upon him. Then as she was leaving, the cat wouldn't leave the house, staring right back at her. Oak, must be sensing rain, well I best make haste.
Chapter 2:
Princess of Dreams
"The princess has awoken! The princess has awoken!," screamed the tattered guard jester as he look to the North, to the see a pointed tower pushing up against the Earth. Legend has it when the tower raises, the princess is no longer asleep, for she sleeps in the tower... a tower no one has seen until now. The young archers dropped their bows, in awe, since for them it was nearly a village's myth of the princess. No one they know has seen her, but all the elderly swear they were there but cannot remember for they were too young to remember. The court jester clicked his heels as he exclaimed, "Long live the princess!"
Bradley, pushed back his thick blonde hair back behind his ears, as he looks ahead to the commotion. In all his life, he heard of the tales of the princess of the kingdom, but never really thought it was real. Was it real? Was it a myth?
"Grandmama, is it her? The princess" He smiled like it was his first Christmas morning, and his grandmama was caught wrapping his last present. Hands stained from the vegetable garden. "If it's her, then it must mean the eclipse has happened!"
"Yippeti-yay!," The jester lean over the wall of the fortress. Julian, the red-hair archer, joined in with the jester.
Cheers there were, the people were screaming for the coming of the princess! Aromas of incense and floral filled the air, as the people set the patchuli baskets ablaze announcing her prescence. Cheers erupted in the land.
"Knock knock, she's there!" Julian sang at the top of his voice, for he cannot believe what he is about to see, "knock, knock, she's there! Open your arms, for she is at the door! Knock, knock, she's there! Come on in, for tonight we shall not be hungry!" An ancient hymn that grandmama remember as a child, when the princesses of the town used to visit the poor, to greet them with patcholi baskets and fruits held by the soldiers. Classics never die, after all.
Regg, the bald-headed archer, "Stop. For all we know, it could be a town's festival reinacting the legend of the dream princess"
"Crystal Castles," the old lady gasped, "for they were true"
"It can't be! The princess wasn't supposed to show again until the eclipse of the tangerine sun and the the two crescent moons!" The jester danced up and down.
The old lady stood against the wall, dead flowers still in her hair, "The dawning of the new age must before us," she pressed her thin lips hard before speaking, "stay cautious young warriors, for if she is indeed the princess, then the dreamer with the strongest dream will be granted tonight" She then smiled, but all her life she too wanted to see the princess. The beautiful princess, who blessed the kingdom with flowers, fountains of cream, and heavenly fruits in the forests. All blessings that escape the neighbor kingdoms, for she never wanted the people to starve when winter approaches. Now, the trees laid barren of their legendary fruits for the bees no longer visit, but the fountains remain. And like the boys of her youth, flowers too had lost meaning with time.
"What could had done that?, Awaken her?" the jester mouth ajaw. Bugged eye, almost comically out of his small head. Sweat trickled down his cold skin, and yet joy couldn't be hidden from him now! No' sir' ree. "For it's not time for the eclipse, it's five' decades too soon"
Over the fields, the old lady squint her eyes ever so, watching the tower, then the crystal castle ascended over the land. The princess' people all stand out of their tiny homes, eyes aloud, as they waited for their true princess to emerge. The group stood tall above the village, but not quite as tall as the looming castle that was an hour walk away which was a mere purple diamond on the clouds that formed around the.
"She's here! The one! The princess," everyone screamed at the top of their lungs.
"I do not know, my great grandmama once told me a tale" she paused, "----I can't quite remember it now, since its been ages. I was a little girl, and she had tears in her eyes. She had tears in her eyes, and then, and then..." The old lady held back her tears, as she looked at her handsome grandson, she raised him when his mother died from a flu, but she herself cannot remember the day or how they gotten the flu. It was afterall a town's epidemic, and one cannot feel too depressed when one has a child to raise. That flu, also took her husband, not a boy by then, but a boy at heart. Her grandmama, escaped the two flus, but her grandmama no longer had love in her heart, for each day was a day closer to death. Or to her family, however you look at it.
The dream festival will soon be upon them, in which the princess will grant a dream to the one who believes in their dream more strongly than anyone else. Every citizen of the land of the Kingdom has an inner mirror within their soul, holding their dream, a dream they believe in more than anything else. A dream that gives them purpose. A dream that keeps them alive when the world beats them to the ground, and burns them alive. That dream, the culture of the people, was to never let the dream die, since once the dream dies, the bearer dies with it as well. Damned with dreams.
The old lady had a face of paranoa, "but the princess' mirror, only reflects what you want to see. Look behind the reflection, for the reflection is not the mirror itself"
"Grandmama, what do you speak of such insanities? Tis' not a day to rejuice since the princess has finally come" Her grandson, now at the beginning of adulthood, tall, and strong from the beans that his grandmama grew in her garden. Yet, youth was still with him, for he has not reach sixteen yet.
"The dream princess was the true essence of womanhood, birthed from the foam of the red rose garden. All the other princesses were born of inferior flowers such as the pansies, sunflowers, tulips, violets, and gardenias," the jester said.
Regg, bald headed gleaming, "How do you know so much about the princess? Stalk her?"
"When you're living with the king, the actors and the soldiers reinact the princess' legends. You learn quite a bit about our culture." He jumped onto the ledge to be as tall as the rest.
"None can say they have the blood of the rose garden, which is were all the miracles are were performed. The rose garden cures diseases, ailments, and disabilities if prayed hard enough" the jester said.
"Lies, my father shall not be dead if this were the case, nor all my family besides my great uncle... who died of natural cause" Regg shout.
Julian, in a snarled, "My father was cured of a grave disease by the rose garden when he first visit this village, decided to live here because the fruits here are the sweetest."
Regg, ignore both of them.
"I pray for the fool who had awokened her," the old lady had her hand over her aching heart. "She has arrived much sooner than expected"
The thorns of the rose gardens, if pricked, can lead to your own death, as the blood feeds the soil of the roses giving perfect redness. Those were the gardens of the dream princess, the one they waited for so long. Beware of the thorns, my child.
The old lady's eyes went pass the marbled foutains of vanilla cream, near the castle of first princess of the yellow tulips. Yet, it was the dream princess that was the true leader of the land. Vanilla, minge with cherry, the taste of the fountain's cream. The fountains' cream were melted slightly under the tangerine orb in the sky, casting an orange tinge on the land.
Then the crescent moons glowed of pink, and were playing catch up to the sun like the hands of clock being pushed pass its limits.
The old lady, whispered "She is causing her own eclipse!"
The jester stopped with a smile, "Listen, they are awoken as well." The kingdoms' mythical dragonflies buzzed their angelic yet the depressing song, as they welcome whoever comes to the royal square. In the square, the thirteen princesses castles stand brilliantly like cold diamond shards growing from the soft pink and blue planet in a circle, they were nearly fortresses guarding the true royalty of the land. Soon all thirteen will be awaken from their sleep for the final princess is awoken too.
"Behold!" There within the middle of the square, within the middle of diamonds, towering on its floating on a pink cloud, rest the Kingdom of Trinity! The pillars of brilliant amenesia purple crystal, makes the eyes grow tired with dumbness, but it was bedazzled with the acented of white gold. Red roses crawled up the walls of the kingdom. Their leaves dark green, rich in nutrietes, held the thorns within the shadows. In myth, if you stare too long you will turn into one of the statues that rest in her garden, one of the hopeless dreamers who didn't speak soon enough to announce his or her dream.
"Those roses, don't look quite as red as I imagine," the old lady whispered.
"What has gotten into you grandmama?! We are so fortunate to see this!," Bradley freckles look like her late husband. Yet, he had his mother's eyes, bright blue, and not quite dark like his grandfather.
And... there she was. In her full glory. The Dream Princess.
The princess emerged from the entrance, carried on the shoulders of the legendary spirit soldiers, who died in her honor for the name of the country. Sons and fathers that the families haven't seen in perhaps decades if not longer. All wearing the uniforms of their time, all different, except for the colors... white metal, sky blue capes. Yet, the princess was adorned with silks of greens and reds, with magnificent red floral adorned in her hair.
"Princess Trinity! The dream princess is here!," screamed Julian.
"No way..." Regg couldn't decide to act excited or not.
A thin wrist appeared from the gown, rubies beads embroided arm, held by the yarn of white gold.. A young maiden, frail, yet tall as any of soldier, with curly hair cascading down her emerald dress, the colour of a tropical summer's day merge with the blonde fields of the country. In her hair were white and golden pearls threaded in the mini braids, slightly glowing in the shadows of the sea of hair.
Lips, red, and red as red can be. Yet, her eyes were shimmering with a glitter that change colours with the flip of her head. She embodied life, but there was a mystique undescribable, as if she was life, itself.
Her breasts were pillowing beneath her gown covered in rubies on top, pushing it ever so, but she shamelessly walked without a care to indency, giving it a sense of purity to the sins of the world. Her skin a transclucent white, with a hint of blue veins beneath. Features sharp, but narrow of chin. No other woman could hold a match to the beauty of the princess.
"She is more beautiful than I ever imagine," the old lady saw her childhood emerge in front of her eyes. When she was a child, the princess appeared once more a few decades before, and the memories of her were etched in her elderly minds.
She was the image of innocence, a summer's day, tinge with nostoglia, since they were raised with tales of her glory. She was the new and the old. The princess, what a day it shall be! Her blonde hair trailed down her back, swaying in the wind, shine as if gold.
"It's been so long," A voice only fitted from the heavens above emerge from her throat. "It's been so long, yet sooner than I thought, but it's been so long since I seen my family, but I am here now once more". All the soldiers stop, and let her fall onto the stage of the stone kingdom, purple of crystal, red of roses, and green of leaves.
Red rose petals floated in the air, as she moved almost inhumanly like. For she was not an ordinary human.
"Knock! Knock! She's here!," the people began to sing the song in unison.
"And just last time, I promise to make the dream of the biggest dreamer come alive," her aquatic eyes, eyes of a mermaid, were full of joy, "Yet, I have a surprise for everyone in the audience tonight. Just mere moments ago, I just had a dream, and it awoken me from my slumber, it was the dream that we all have, and I shall now show you my dream"
CHAPTER 3:
THE DREAM MIRROR
From the ashes of the Earth, a large shard of illuminating glass appeared before her bursting in a rainbow beam, see through, and yet reflected at the same time. It was in the shape of a diamond, narrow at base and top. It glowed with energy. Emeralds and rubies adorned the base of the mirror. An hourglass carried by an owl, flew out of the mirror
"This is the dream crystal, it's the reflector of dreams." She smiled, "Now, dream strongly, dream into the crystal, for the winner shall be greeted with a gift. For all dreamers, are winners" Her voice, soft like the tappings of spring rain, hypnotize the audience. Here before them, was the castle held by the cloud, the blonde princess, and the mirror of dreams.
A small boy couldn't breathe as if he was in an ocean, then he collapse, at the sound of shatter glass. . Then a woman screamed and shout, then her neck went limp, and she fell to the ground. Shatter glass. Soon a man, fainted to white as if he saw a demon. Shatter glass. Screams. The closer a townsperson were to the princess and the mirror, the closer they were to see their worst nightmare.
The princess, stared into the eyes of the audience, she pursed her lips to suck in the air, and as she suck the air, a white fog appeared around her that escaped the bodies of the fallen. The spirit soldiers stood at attention at once. Yet, no one came to their rescue, and were fixated in a happy united orgasm of the princess. Her eyes were like two cold stones, staring deep into windows of dreams that each citizen had.
Everyone has a dream. Everyone has a nightmare. She smiled.
The old lady saw the eye of the mirror, fear ran up her spine, for the eye saw their dreams through their eyes. "Bradley look away!" She pushed him against the wall.
In the dream of the princess lies the reflections of all that was unholy. All that laid in the realms of hell. All the evils of the world were within the glass, the seen and the unseen, the heard and the unheard, it was an instrument of hell. And no one saw the reality, but the illusion of their dreams. The devil seem to exist within the shard of the mirror, as if it were a gateway to the inferno.
"The dream mirror only reflects the heart and soul, and no more, for if you shall not have the wisdom to dream, you cannot see." Petals of roses floated from her hand. "The forbidden fruit, is not evil, but rather gives insight to the human's condition. And like the mirror, it's only evil to those who have the condition of being dreamless or innocent"
"Grandmama, isn't she beautiful!?" Bradley spoke aloud as if he is not witnessing what the grandmama has just seen. The jester just smiled at the princess, as if she was the only woman in the world. For he has never seen such a being.
The princess, stopped, and then spoke aloud, "I am awoken from a nightmare, and my nightmare will not come to fruitation. My rose will not welt, nor any of my roses, as you can see they are fading ever so. They will thrive once more, on the dreams of innocent dreamers. Do not let me wilt, for a rose, is only beautiful while young"
"And you shall not wilt my beautiful princess!" the jester shouted.
The old lady let out a blood curlding scream. "She's come to kill those with dreams!". She tossed the fruit basket into the ground. The old lady frantically had her hands in her hair,"She's out to kill all the young! Those pillars, her castle, makes us forget the evils she does to us ever other generation. My great grandmother whole entire family died because that evil beast! But no one remembers, everyone forgets, she told me this, and I remember, I remember, I finally remem-----" She gasped! Julian, had a thorn in his hand, and slightly pushed it into her skin.
"Grandmama!" Bradley, broken of his hypnotic state, then saw the reality of what his grandma spoke.
"To those who speak of memories, are not dreamers, for memories are best forgotten, like one's first true love, perfection without a flaw." Julian coldly said. Bradley, realize Julian was under the spell of the princess, for he too collapse onto the ground.
The princess blowed kisses to the fallen, as if a kiss could fix all the evil that lurked in the mirror.
The jester blinded by his own dream, remember the legends of the princess, who once granted miracles to those who seek her. She was an angel in his eyes, if not a goddess.
Bradley, looked up to see the horrors of every young person or one with a unfufilled dream collapse to the ground. The old lady' dreams were long gone, since she was not young anymore nor lived an unfilled life. The one dream she did had, has died many moons ago. She saw the rose through clear lenses. She saw the thorns beneath the rose. Yet, in death, she did not die from her dreams but from reality, freeing her from the curse, the curse of the dream crystal.
Fallen roses from the castle fluttered through wind like a tornado from the dream mirror, pulling in the energy of the fallen. The young blonde maiden smiled, eyelashes fluttering, "My roses will look beautiful once more. My worst nightmare will not come true! Behold the mirror, your dreams shall be mine, and to those who cannot dream a dream, you shall forget once you see gaze upon my pillars before you. After all, flu season is upon us"
Soon, it was the valley of the old and the bitter taking place, and then in a mere second within the crystal, Bradley saw the aspirations of his mother and father hand in hand as they were beheaded. In the dream crystal, and then he saw the eye, and the eye penetrated into his soul showing all the happiness he ever had
The cat jumped onto Bradley's head, screeching as it tried to stop the the soul leaving from Bradley. "Oak! What are you doing?" The cat nearly blinded Bradley, but missed his eye by a few centimeters, a worth well taking in his case. Oak, sensed his owner is in danger, but was too late to save her. Bradley covered his eyes, as he remember what his grandmama told him, and then Oak and Bradley were overwhelmed with the loss of grandmama.
Oak purred onto the old woman, trying to bring her back, but she too was gone like the flowers in her hair.
