The children came to him that night, as they always did, elders in tow. All knew the old storyteller, who had lived in the village for more years than any could count. He never ran out of stories, never forgot a line, never refused a request. This night, the smallest of the children had asked for a story about heroes and villains, witty scoundrels and beautiful maidens. All gathered near to hear him speak.
This is the tale he told that night, when the cool winds blew and the fires crackled warmly.
This is the tale of a queen and a monster.
There was once a queen who governed a beautiful planet. She ruled fairly and justly and was loved by all her subjects. The years beneath her gentle rule brought great prosperity to her home.
But beyond the gentle life of that green world, trouble was stirring. An evil man seized control of the government and now fought a terrible war to bend the galaxy to his iron will. Those that opposed him were quickly snuffed out, their bright lights lost in a sea of darkness. Between the shadowy ruler and his terrifying henchmen, no one dared resist his rule, though all groaned beneath its weight.
The young queen fought to keep her planet from slipping into despair, working at every turn to aid those few who would dare resist the might of the evil ruler. To those on the run, her planet became a refuge, a safe haven.
But she was betrayed, betrayed by one she called friend.
Her planet wept as she was taken away in chains, taken to the dark heart of the empire to stand trial and die. And the hope of her people was nearly crushed.
Strange news from the city-planet stirred that ember of hope, gave it the strength to continue. For the right-hand of the evil man had refused to kill her, instead claiming her as his slave. The whispers said that he decreed it a fate worse than death and some agreed. Others murmured that there was still a chance, that so long as their queen lived, she could still return.
The young queen despaired at first, for the cruelty of the monster was well known. Though none had seen him, all had heard the tales of the blade that stuck in the night, the sudden deaths of those who dared speak out against the evil one he served. She hated the monster, hated him for the deaths he caused and the pain he inflicted on the innocent.
She remembered those tales, sitting in her small cell, waiting to be taken to him. Despite her bravery, she was terrified as she heard slow footfalls approach her door. When it opened, she nearly cried out in shock. For the monster was only a young man, barely more than a child, with sandy hair and blue eyes that had seen far too much for one so young. He said nothing to her, merely led her to a comfortable room within his dark palace and left her there.
Her days passed in solitude. Her captor visited rarely, never speaking to her when he did. She did not try to escape, for she knew the fate that would befall her planet if she did. Slowly, she was given the freedom to wander the palace, though certain rooms remained off limits.
Even in this distant cell rumors of the outside world still crept to her ears, stories of what her people suffered during her exile. And every fiber of her being cried out to help them. But what could she do?
She could not fly to her people, for she was captive. She could not send them the food and comfort they needed, for she could not leave the castle. She could not speak for them before the mighty government...but there was one person she could talk to.
The blue-eyed monster.
Each time he appeared at her door, she spoke with him: frivolities, at first, like the weather or novel she had read, but soon deeper topics of politics and the nature of good and evil. In time, he began to speak to her, halting and shy. For he had never known simple kindness, forced to serve a harsh master since his earliest memory, and did not understand her intent.
Time passed slowly, the fate of her people and other growing more dire with each passing day. Slowly, a trust was formed, a companionship built on kindness and little things, like a song at night or an unexpected trip to see the sun, so far away.
Finally, when she judged the time and place correct, she asked for his help. He, too, was weary of what the worlds suffered, the spark of compassion hidden deep within brought to light by the kindness of the queen-in-exile. The two worked tirelessly to find a way to save the worlds from the evil ruler's iron grip.
When the appointed day dawned, the blue-eyed monster fought the evil ruler. The great battle in the throne room lasted for days, and none could enter but on pain of death, so fierce was their battle! Still within her cell, the queen prayed for his safety, asking the gods of her world to grant his safe return. For when he had walked away, the last time, she had realized he had come to live in her heart, a place won by his many kindnesses. Alone, she wept.
News came swiftly - the ruler was dead! The blue-eyed man was gravely injured, but he had won the day! The people of the queen rejoiced in the streets as heralds proclaimed the good news. Their queen was coming home at last!
And she did not come alone. The blue-eyed man came with her, his wounds healing slowly under her care. Some muttered in the streets that he too ought to die for his many crimes, but those who were wise could see the truth.
For kindness and love could turn a monster into a hero, and save the worlds from darkness.
It took only the bravery and wisdom of one to see it.
His tale finished, the storyteller bows. A queen, a battle, a wrong set right - his tale is complete and soon forgotten, but the heart remains as the villagers head to their homes and hearths, sleepy children carried on shoulders.
True or false, no one could say, but all remembered what power a kind word could hold. As the storyteller retired to his home, the thought was enough to make him smile.
For kindness and love will always triumph, and his task, his calling, is to remember and remind so when Darkness rises once more, there will be Light to answer it.
A/N: An old story, in the same style as the Dark Lord and the Angel. My muse rather suddenly returned from the dead. I hope it decides to stick around for a time: it's a pleasure to be writing again.