Some say it was the gypsies fault. The people who didn't want to accept that fact said it. Others thought it was the boy. The select villagers who had met him said that. The prejudiced, harsh ones took it out on that one gypsy girl. And since most in the kingdom were like that, they all blamed her.
If you had really known what was going on, you would know that it was no one's fault. In fact, there was nothing quite to be blamed on anyone. But you don't know the situation. It isn't even clear for you. It would be much better if we started at the beginning. The beginning is the only place where this would make sense. So let us start our journey now. At the Beginning.
This Beginning starts as most do, with Once Upon a Time. Such perfect words to start a tale; they set the tone just right for a story as such. Much like other fairy tales, this story starts with those words. But this is not a normal fairy tale. This is not a myth or a legend; this really happened. Although, much like all the stories that are passed on, it must have a basis as a tall tale. So before we reach the Storyland, our train must first stop at a larger station called The Past.
"Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." -Lord Acton
The land of Torragao was always powerful. Therefore, it must always be corrupted. And it was. Ravaged from the beginning of time, to the times of now.
It started with King Locton. He was, as documented by all of the history books, the greatest king to date. But, in being the greatest, we must assume he was bad. And he was. King Locton was driven by greed; the sin infused into his soul since he was a child. He demanded the best from his parents, bullied the servants, and threw massive tempers when he didn't get his way. Sadly, he did not grow out of it. He bullied his way into power, took the fairest woman he could find for a wife, and created the kingdom of Torragao. But he was not content with being in control of just one land. He built up an army of unwilling subjects, and swiftly took over the nearby kingdom of Attica. He did the same thing to Oiyness and Birali. Killing their rulers, and making them mere cities in his dominion.
Alas, his greed was nearly the downfall of Torragao. All the riches the people had were siezed by the king, and the people were put to work on the king's land. The subject became poor and malnourished, and several devastating epidemics came and went. The kingdom soon began to fall into disrepair. It was Queen Desdeemona who saved them all.
She firmly told the king the if he didn't change his ways, the kingdom would be worthless. King Locton had never been able to resist his wife.
Runeous, a small town in the center of the kingdom was expanded, fortified and made into the High City, where the kings and queens lived. Five other cities; Sihya, Lucknow Grove, the Golden Causeway, Martinguesture and Dunmire Fen, were built in strategic locations for both trade and defence purposes. Gradually, the people were given more rights and freedoms. Taxes were lowered, trade agreements were established, and the way of life was generally improved. Though the rulers of Torragao were traditionally cruel, it helped the kingdom work better. One gear out of place, and the kings and queens would deal with in in the swiftest, and often most brutal way.
So, there is the history of the land that will help you understand the story better, safe for a few key elements.
The first is that it wasn't all sunshine and butterflies for the people of Torragao. King Locton and Queen Desdeemona both despised gypsies and vagabonds. A few laws were passed, and the once merry wanderers of the land were banished to the Insurgo Forest. Once step out of line, and the gypsies would be severely delt with. They were expected to come to the cities only when summoned to perform. It soon became fashionable to have a gypsy fortune teller or dancer at a party. Everyone was happy with this arrangement, except of course, the gypsies.
It was written in all of the history books that Queen Desdeemona was a reformer and saviour of Torragao. She did one other thing, though. She made a prophecy minutes beofre she died. Born the same year. Born the same day. Joined will push the predjudices away. That was written in all the books too, but no one bothered with it. No one knew what it meant, and no one cared about figuring it out.
Which brings us closer to the real story. We need to zoom forward a few hundred years now, and look in on Torragao.
The kingdom was in joy. There were celebrations going on in all of the cities and villages. Queen Ariellea, second wife of King Vosgras, had given birth to a son. Jayson Caros Kayd deRegalis, first heir of the evil king Vosgras. Though they hated their king, the people were content. Plus, they loved to party.
Deep in the Insurgo Forest, there were parties as well. Matayah Maize, the best cook of all the gypsies, had given birth the same day as the prince. This child was a girl named Laire, who greeted life with a smile the first minute of her existence. The smile made their joyus celebration all the better. They hadn't had much to celebrate the past few years.
Fifteen years passed since that cheerful day. With each passing of the times Prince Jayson grew into a tall, handsome young man, sought after by all of the young ladies in the land. He also became quite educated: learning much about ruling and history, to prepare him for life later on. He was quite solemn and quiet and spent a lot of time alone: much to the dismay of the King and Queen. They wanted their son to take a wife before he was made King. He never showed an interest in girls, something which made many women sigh in disappontment. Many suitors were sent to him and all of them were turned away. It soon became a competition to see who would last more than a day with the Prince, much to his chagrin.
The young gypsy girl grew too. She was tall and lanky, though she built up quite a bit of muscle from climbing trees and such. She was taught to read by one of the elders, and that grew into a passion. The smile that had charmed everyone when she was a child grew, and it had the power to make anyone happy. Laire was shy as a young girl, but became bolder as she grew. Laire never understood why the gypsies were shunned, and she didn't think she should have to perform for people that hated her. When the gypsies were summoned to the villages, Laire would retreat to the back of the caravan and read.
So now you know the facts. You have learned the history of the land, and you have met some of the people who live in it. Now it is time to turn to the real story. We have now reached the real Beginning. Watch now, as our train pulls into Storyland station. We must now write the words Once Upon a Time, and begin with the real story. Then you can decide who's fault it really was. Or if there was a fault at all.
Once Upon a Time...
Laire was sitting by the Micanis Stream, as she often did. She alone, something also usual. There were not many people in the troupe that shared her interests, and those that did were always practicing for some show or another. She wished every night that she might have a normal life, or at least not have to live in exile. She loved the woods, and hated the noisy towns, but she wished hard that she could live somewhere she loved without being shunned.
"Larkspur!"
Laire smiled to herself as she heard the voice call out to her. There was only one person who used her nickname. She stood up, stretched and twirled on her heel to see the speaker. Logan Hickory was running over to her, his freckly face spread in a wide grin.
"Sparrow!" Laire shouted back at him. They always used these nicknames,once as annoyances, but now for affection. Laire got her nickname because she had fallen into a patch of teh flowers when she was a child. Logan got his because he was always fascinated by birds. Logan was the only one in the gypsy camp who understood her and they now shared an unusual friendship.
"Larkspur," Logan said, gasping for breath, "I don't think you are going to like this."
"Why wouldn't I? You are smiling. That's always good."
"I am only smiling because you are smiling. Though yours might disappear when I tell you the news."
Laire blushed slightly, forgetting the power of her smile. Logan was a good prophet though, for her grin quickly disappeared when he told her what he had come for.
"Pack your bags. We are going to Runeous, to preform in front of the royals no less."
Laire silently cursed. Travelling to perform was bad enough. Going to the High City meant even more jeers from people. They had never gone to entertain the king, though. From what Laire could tell, they weren't allowed in the palace. She frowned, and asked Logan why.
"For that stuck-up Princely of his. Apparently we are going to be the entertainment for the fesivities. Something like the Prince's birthday and coronation all in one week. Come on now. We are leaving right away."
Laire and Logan walked back to the main camp slowly. Both of them were puzzled, and both of them hated being ordered around.
"Gypsies! Are you out of your mind? They are bad enough in town. Do you have to bring them right into the palace?" Queen Ariellea, known far and wide for her temper, was shrieking at her husband. King Vosgras looked pained.
"Dear, I am only doing this for our son. He requested them, and you said to let him do what he wanted for his birthday. I hate them as much as you do. Don't worry. They won't even come inside. They will dance in the courtyard." The King was trying to be calm, though he was bottling up his annoyance inside.
"Jayson asked for them? Where is that boy?"
The fair-haired Prince arrived a few minutes later, uncomfortable facing his angry parents. He knew this moment would come sooner or later, but he rathered it be later. Much later. "Yes mum?" He asked, trying to be non-chalant.
"You are completely off your rocker! What are you playing at? Inviting gypsies to the High Castle? Are you out of your mind? They are vile wood-people. Can you imagine them being near my splendid castle? The scandal! Give my answers, my son, and they had better be good ones."
"I just wanted to experience some different cultures. There are people from Oiyness, Norchel, Birali and Droiss. Is it not right to have gypsies as well?"
"It most certainly isn't! You want culture? You can have culture. But no gypsies." The Queen was going ballistic, practically shaking the walls with her loud voice.
"Now son," the King stated sternly. "I did promise you could plan anything you wanted too, but inviting filth is going a bit far. I will allow it only this once. This once. Do you hear me? You are to take full responsibility, and if there is any trouble, you will have to answer for it. Now go. They are to arrive any minute, and you are going to supervise the screening."
Prince Jayson slouched off. He had known it would be bad, but this was worse. Now he would have to stand out by the gate and make sure the idiot guards did their job. And he would be in full view of the whole city, including those lovestruck girls and his fan club.
In hindsight, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. He just had to look regal while the guards searched the gypsies bags. No biggie.
Laire thought it was quite annoying. Having these guards searching their belongings to make sure they didn't have anything dangerous. As if they had weapons in the forest. The guard looking through her bag wasn't the brightest one on the block. He was examining her wooden flute carefully."What do you think this is, girl?" he asked, seemingly puzzled.
"It's a flute, genius," Laire muttered. "Do you really think it's a magic sword?" She immediately regretted her comment however. The heavyset guard smacked her across the face and sent her reeling to the ground. Laire jumped up quickly. Even if he was dumb, he wasn't a weakling.
"What was that for?" she shouted. "I answered your question!"
"You cheeky little wench," the guard bellowed. He reached out his meaty fist, and with a swift movement had pinned her against the wall. "You will pay for that little remark," he uttered, and then louder he called out to his superior, a large beefy man who looked quite sinister.
"What is it, Doigson? Is the filth giving you trouble?"
"Aye Captain. Calling me names she was," the guard replied.
Laire couldn't stand this. "I was just going through this idiotic screening process. He didn't know what a flute is, for heavens sake! So I answered his question and he hit me." She was getting exasperated. Not to mention her shoulders were aching, as the guard still had her firmly pinned to the wall.
"See sir? That is what I have to put up with." The guard called Doigson was looking triumphant.
"She has a tongue on her, that's for sure," the Captain was scrutinizing her, making Laire feel quite uncomfortable.
"Fine. I 'have a tongue'. Will you put me down now? It's just I am so loving being dragged out of my home and brought to put on a show for you nasty, pathetic losers," Laire had never really stood up for herself like that before. She was quite enjoying insulting these dumbells. She was not, however, enjoying the thrashing. With her last comment she was delt a stinging blow across the face, harder than she ever deemed possible.
"Put her down," came a new voice. This one was full of authority, and one that the guards listened to. The grip on her arm relaxed and she was shoved down to the ground. Laire was practically kissing a pair of shiny, rich looking boots. She struggled up from the ground. She was heavily winded, so getting up was a bit of a challlenge. A strong arm reached out to help her up. Although her helper was strong, the hold was gentle; something Laire was not accustomed to.
When she finally managed to stand on her feet, she raised her eyes to the kind person. It was a tall man- a boy really. He couldn't have been much older than herself. He had broad shoulders and dark blond hair that fell into his eyes. He looked concerned. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Laire quickly asessed the damage. Her face was on fire, raging from the blows. Her arm was in pain as well, having being twisted right around by the guards. She wouldn't admit that to anyone though, so she shrugged her shoulders lightly. Then she smiled shyly.
The Prince felt his face stretch into a smile when the girl did. He didn't know what it was, but her gentle smile made him feel light inside.
He had nearly dozed off, sitting in a small throne watching the gypsies being searched. This girl had been one of the last ones through, and he found himself listening to her protests. Then he had watched the guards attack her; not that she didn't deserve it. Her spirit was interesting. No one had ever stood up to the guards before. He was enjoying the show quite well, actually. He had felt the need to intervene before they killed her. That was just the sort of thing his father didn't want. But he didn't think his father would like him being kind to the gypsies either.
"Do you not know it is customary to curtsey before royalty?" He asked forcefully, wrenching his hand from the gypsy girl's arm. Her sharp eyes immediatly darkened.
"I am sorry, Highness. I did not know. I'm just an ignorant gypsy, after all," she said frostily.
"Well now you know, and I expect you to," he stated. It was plain and simple, and he wanted that courtesy. After all, he had just helped her.
"Marry me, Jayson!" One of the girls pressed up against the palace gates shrieked at him, waving a large banner. He rolled his eyes disconsolately, and kept looking at the gypsy girl, waiting for some acknowledgement.
"You stuck-up prig!" The girl snapped. "You want me to curtsey for you? After all that your family has done to mine? Well I will not. It is time you stopped being so power loving." With that, the girl marched off without so much as a backwards glance.
The Prince was suprised he felt hurt. The gypsy girl was strange; she had made him smile when he could hardly stand to be near a girl. Maybe she was right not curtsey to him. Her kind had never been treated nicely before. Although he had never met anyone with as much disdain for him. He suddenly wanted very badly to apoligise.
That was not to be, however. One of the servants came up to him and told him that the King wanted him.
It was not has bad as he thought. His father just shouted at him a bit about being irresponsible. His mother shrieked about him standing up for 'rotten, gypsy filth.' It was not as bad as he had at first anticipated.
But then came the bad part. His father sent a servant to fetch the strange gypsy girl.
Logan and Laire were sitting in the corner of the small courtyard. She was holding a cold cloth to her stinging face, while her friend chattered away. "Gosh, Larkspur. I can't even belive you. Standing up to those guards like that, and then talking back to the Prince! Wow. You really showed them. I wish I could have done that."
Laire shook her head. "I shouldn't have. I really regret that. It was fun while it lasted, Sparrow. But in the long run it will do me no good. I mean, what will happen when the king learns?"
"You are about to find out," came a bold voice. Laire turned around to see a maid watching them. "Beg pardon miss," the maid said. "The King has sent for you. I am to bring you to him."
Laire felt her stomach turn over. This was not good at all. Logan stood up with her and made to walk with them. "Keep out of this, Sparrow. I don't want you involved."
The maid shooed him away as well. "The King just wants her. I don't think he would be to pleased with anyone if you came. No offense, sir."
It was the grandest building Laire had ever set foot in. In fact, it was the first building she had ever been in. The gypsies had never been invited into a structure of any sort. Her bare feet were freezing on the tile floor, and she felt very out of place in her simple, patchwork clothes.
The polite little maid stopped in front of a large double door. Two guards stood on either side of it. And,unfortunately, one of them was the guard called Doigson. The guard smirked. "Well, well, well. The filth is finally going to learn a lesson. I'll take it from here, maid." He reached out his large hand and yanked on her sore arm roughly. "Come on girl. Time to meet the King."
When Doigson pushed open the door, Laire prayed that she would melt. She was directly across from the evil king and queen. Both were staring at her accusingly. Standing beside them was the Prince. She had yelled at him before.
Her stomach was churning. She couldn't. She wouldn't. The guard dragged her forward, cutting off her circulation below the elbow. He shoved her down on the tile floor- a sort of forced curtsey. Laire stayed crouched on the floor. She didn't want to have to look face to face with King Vosgras.
"You have broken the rules that keep your kind in check. You have mistreated the guards and talked back to the Prince. You broke the code, and now you are fouling up my floors. You were never meant to be here, and you shouldn't be now. You are just a rotten peice of garbage. What right you have to be on this earth I do not know."
Laire felt her anger begin to bottle up inside of her as the king spoke. She was trying very hard not to explode and yell at the king as she had the guards. It wasn't working. She didn't yell though. "I have every right to be here as you do," she said, keeping her head down.
Queen Ariellea flew off the handle this time. "You insolent wench! How dare you suggest such a thing? To my husband! Guards! Guards!"
Laire raised her head slightly, glancing wildly at the many guards that had converged around her.
The queen wasn't finished. "Someone take this gypsy away. The dungeons. One week. No food or water. Lets see how the rubbish survives."
Several pairs of hands grabbed her and started dragging her out of the hall forcefully. Laire was being ripped apart. What a time to come out of her shell. Why couldn't she have stayed the shy lady she had once been? Why did she have to open her mouth?
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the Prince arguing with the Queen. She couldn't hear what was being said, as one of the burly guards had her by her ear. Please let it stop, she thought in her head. Just make the pain go away.
