Daughters of The King

CHAPTER II: THE GOLDEN DAUGHTER (1)

CHAPTER II: THE GOLDEN DAUGHTER (1)

         Cycles later, the golden princess found herself walking through the never ending corridors of the Eleanor´s Realm; the dominant kingdom of Eldrįner. Accompanied by Irene, as they were both preparing for the imminent coming of The Dark Legion. The golden daughter kept talking about her dreams, and how the god of the infinity planet, communicated her unclear, likewise, twisted messages. Codes to be deciphered, puzzles to be discovered; where the confines were always instructed towards the same conclusion: Abhir, needed to be removed.

     And it was in the golden girl´s inevitable duty, annihilate her sister. As it once should´ve been, but it couldn't. For the circumstances of destiny in the sinister day of darkness chose tarnished paths. That terrible day, where the currents of these rivers became dirty, and the innocent creatures that rested within it were silenced forever with fear. Releasing with itself an evil; oiling the stained waters of the fearsome one who sought to devour desperately, all those nascent of our humble region.

    As has been told now and then, within the hearts of the elder elves. A secluded realm, preserved for the myths between forgotten tales. Revelations owned by the wisest prophecies, for long had them sought and found her soul; as she strayed over the river, and wandered throughout the days. For under the southern forest, her spirit shone as the lasting hope, and brighten the darkest affliction. War witheld upon all, but fire stirred along her shadow. And the light stood along her golden path, ere the colder prairies, ere the restless time.

     Although, the southern elves’ kingdom could still defend itself. Its people were ready. Prepared, since that sinister day, four rimerians back. Amara had effectively led her natives the past few years. And they all felt inspired, infused with the momentum of the woman. Lost, in the inexhaustible energy of the princess, and the hunger for revenge, that she projected through her wounded eyes.

        She was already a woman, and her charms made the people of the southern kingdom rave in the expanses of imagination throughout her ocean eyes, which delineated the infinites of her precious, but cracked soul. It was a real tragedy, everything that was happening. And the fury of the golden daughter could only be translated into pain, sorrow, and pity; for the sinister event of the invasive ashes was superlative, and too strong.

         Although, among the hallways of the Eleanor´s Realm, the golden daughter of the Aramordt´s prairies, was still a true icon. A public emblem. Albeit, a heartbroken girl in private. The princess cried every night, mourning the loss of her son. Her daughter´s distance, her husband absence. She was forced to fulfill a duty, but the pressure was increasingly oppressive, which consumed the long journey of her uncertain, and lonely nights.

And even though her mind was dense, her days in Eldrįner were prioritized in training. In reading, in learning, in practice. The southern kingdom of the elves welcomed the woman as no one had ever done before, in the entire antiquity of the hidden city. Her love immediately permeated for those around her. It seemed she have been made to live there, and her presence felt like a ring to the finger for the natives who begged the gods for a new hope. She believed again, for a clear mission does not always have a clear path.

    Her mind was focused, her thoughts were clear, her vision was firm. And even though he heart was severely broken, tainted with revenge, anger and resentment, the southern people managed to cover it gracefully with light, and cleansed it again with good intentions. The natives were noble, pure, honest ones. And the princess´ stay in recent years, rested perfectly as a sparkle in the light of the hearts that belonged to the brave elves. As they had been imploring for a leader over decades. And the sweet perfection of the daughter of the king, symbolized for them that image; that north they needed, as a guide to face the final days of The Region.

She was the symbol of victory, symbol of hope. An authentic compliment of faith. The flag waving across the southern skies. And with her by their side, nothing was going to stop them. Nothing was going to bring them down.

"Good morning, princess," exclaims a man.

"Good morning, Heoen!" answer back. “How are the harvests going?”

"Well, look at it yourself my lady

       The crops had tripled on Heoen's lawn, for the last five cycles, he had worked hard on them.

“This is beautiful, Heoen!” exclaims Amara. “You've spent a lot of time on this.”

“You know how this works, madam” answers the man. “The more we earn, the more we work.”

      Amara´s curiosity was driven to a group of small fruits that had interestingly caught her attention. It was the first time she had seen them in this fields.

“What are these fruits, Heoen?”

"They are blueberries, ma'am!" answers the man. “Do you want to take some?”

"I would like to bring some for my daughter" she replies enthusiastically. “Today is her birthday.

“What a joy, my lady” the man replies. “She will surely love it!”

"I hope so" replied the princess.

"Since this is a special occasion, I offer you half the price for a pound of them!"

“Really?”

“Yes! Take them away!” responds the man. “I assure you, you will both love them!”

The curtains of the night began to cover Eldrįner, and with it, the magic torches from the benevolent corridors of the kingdom came to life, one by one. Although tonight, the squares were unusually empty. The atmosphere was dry, and very cold. This was the night, when Amara was departing the kingdom, initiating her quest. Headed to the profound, and frigid battle zone. Towards the grayish ground of the boisterous war, as it was usual for her to do so once a year.

Once again, she would reach the frozen Desert of Mögia. Where her parents were, and her exile people from The Old Aramordt. Where her wounded family was, and her betrayed heart rested. Although this, for a few moments, was carried away by enthusiasm, knowing that she would see them once again. She was carrying away her blueberry bags, and a little surprise for her daughter, who was on her sixth birthday.

Unfortunately, her first rimmers had been full of war, hate, sacrifice; away from her mother. A childhood that no one intended to offer her. The golden princess always wanted to compensate her daughter in some way, and she intended to do so in this day.

And then, in the prestigious dusk of that day, she arrived at the main stable of the Eleanor´s Realm, where she began to assemble the solid armor of her royal white horse. Gifted by her mother, the beautiful queen of the north. The Goddess Gisma seized the darkness, and outlined her afterglow in the cold lands of the south, while some elves still paid tributes of faith for the never extinguished of her beautiful light, in the hidden lake of the kingdom. And although they needed the golden daughter there, in the princess´ mind only existed the desire to reach out her mother, and hug her once again. She really wanted to see her brilliant face of hope, shine one more time.

Suddenly a man approaches.

“Good night, my lady!”

"Good evening, Reonne" Amara replies. “What can I do for you?

"Madam, it's old Gil!" says the man. “He is very bad, and needs your help immediately!”

“What happened?”

"Lady, we have no idea" the man continues, "He doesn't stop wallowing, he doesn't stop coughing. His nose won't stop bleeding my lady.”

"I'm about to leave" the woman replies. “Isn't Nestorel there?

"Madam, he's there, and he doesn't know what to do!" says the man. “We need your gifts, your blessings, madam.”

"I don't know Reonne" the woman answers. “I really need to go, it's my daughter's birthday. You know I can only see her this day.”

   Suddenly, a boy entered the scene, coming from behind the pleading man. He was a boy from the village.

“Lady please help us! My father is dying!” says the boy. “Only you can save him!”

     Amara watched the boy's crystalline eyes, and felt pity for him. The princess then bent down and gave him a hug.

"You can leave early tomorrow, ma'am" says Reonne. “I´ll have the horse ready for you. But we need you here ma'am. What do you say?”

 Her heart filled with empathy, but when the woman was about to agree, her mind was invaded by images of her daughter. Visions of her husband, her mother, her father. She missed her family very much. She had accepted this commitment, and this duty to live in the woods, at the price of sacrificing what she loved the most in this world. She really missed them; she missed Ceres, her dragon brother Lucca, the Golden King; leader of the Dragon Realm. She missed her people, she missed her injured kingdom. But more importantly, she missed her precious daughter.

"Sorry, I can't stay," Amara replies.

“But ma'am”

"I can't Reonne" Amara interrupts. “This is my family too, and I have more than fifteen cycles that I don't see them. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't stay.”

"But ma'am my father!" exclaims the boy.

"I'm so sorry, my boy." responds Amara. “You must be strong; you must be brave. I know you can be. I know you will do well, for I know, that you are a champion.”

"Besides," the woman continues, "I'm sure Nestorel is doing a good job; you must trust him.”

"Lady, I can't believe you're going to do this" says Reonne. “You are the leader of this town! The example to follow! You´re always there, always helping us. It is the color we need, especially in these tragic moments. In bad times your light must be always here, with us. We are talking about Old Gil! Leaving would be a disrespect, a disgrace, and an offense on your part; a total gesture of indifference. How can you even think of it?!”

The man released his frustrations on the woman; the boy began to cry inconsolably. Feelings of helplessness and uneasiness began to invade the woman. She felt judged, singled out, offended. When in reality, she had tried to do everything for them; to give everything for them. For four rimerians, she had endeavored to assist them in all their needs. Supporting them in all their work, in all their activities. Why now that she needed to leave the kingdom, she felt condemned to it?

Her mind began to block; her thoughts boiled with fury. Amara was a woman known for highlighting a lot of patience; for having a lot of resilience, but her irascibility was inevitably integrated into her, by inheritance. Her blood warmed, her fists slowly clenched. He turned her gaze to the horizon, and saw the exit through the tunnel. There was no need to explain. She did not have to justify her decisions. She could just take the horse, and retreat. She was frustrated, and very angry.