Most stories, especially this one, tell the tale of a beautiful but cursed princess, her kingdom that's in a grave state and the heroic knight that bentured off to save her. Though all of this is one hundred percent true, you need to keep in mind, there are two sides to every story.
Mine has remained uknown...until now.
There are many moments in my life where I could begin this. From my early childhood, my father and uncle joined the king's army and headed off to war. I could begin the story when I was nine, and discovered upon accident that I could wield magic. Or perhaps the time when I was fourteen, when Elliot, a boy who was fairly attractive, moved along with his family into the house next to mine.
But I believe the story truly began with nothing to do with me. A single event occured way off in the city of Emerl. Queen Romilla had died.
I held out my hand, trying to focus on the tips of my fingers. My gaze moved over to the cup of water on the table. Biting my lip, I moved my focus on the water. Finally a bubble of water floated out of the cup.
A door slammed far away, breaking my concentration. The water fell back into the cup, thankfully before my older cousin, Rowe, stepped into the room.
He sighed, pulling out a chair from the table. He glanced over at me. "Why are you not dressed for ceremony" He asked.
I looked down at the blue dress I wore. It was plain, roughly spun by my aunt a few years back. I shrugged my shoulders. "I lost track of time." That wasn't a lie, I had spent the last few hours messing with the cup of water.
"Ariana, the ceremony starts in an hour." He argued. I nodded my head. Excusing myself, I head over to my room. I changed from the dress to one just as plain, but black. Black for the deep sadness our kingdom had fell into.
Everyone at the village square wore black. Even the sky seemed to want to be covered in dark clouds today. It was as if the earth itself was mourning the loss of Queen Romilla.
People were bumping into me, trying to find a space around the podium. I turned to my cousin, who looked as eager. "Rowe, what's going on?" I asked, as another person shoved me to get a better view.
"The King's adviser, Maclean, is here to lead the ceremony" He said, smiling. I let him step away from me, as I fell back to find someone to talk to.
My aunt moved over to me, grabbing me by my arm and pulling me over to where she and her friends stood. The baker's daughter came by us, passing out candles. We were to lit the candles at the very end of the ceremony.
A gust of wind blew around us. I shivered, grasping at my thin mourning robes.
"We are gathered here" Maclean's clear voice spoke. The crowd shushed down. "To celebrate the life of a most beloved being. Queen Romilla. Born as the eldest daughter of Duke Ronald, Romilla grew up in the beautiful city of Emeral. She was beautiful, wise, gentle, and kind. Not only to her fellow members of society but to all people, to all creatures. At the young age of 26, she left us."
I stared down at my candle. The words of Queen Romilla stirred a thought in me. Would I be remembered like this? With a world missing me, praising my life? She lived to be what, twenty six, he had said. I was only eighteen. Q een Romilla was well-known through out the world, but I had never knew her personally. Why was I supposed to be sad over someone I didn't know?
My Aunt nudged my shoulder, gesturing for me to light my candle. I reached into my pocket pulling out a match, but it slipped out on to the muddy ground. Checking to make sure no one was paying attention to me, I focused on my fingers. I focused on the candle. Imagining the warmth of the sun, a small flame appeared on the wick of the candle.
Hopefully no one noticed that. If my Aunt caught that I'd never see the outside of the cottage for a month.
At the end of the ceremony, we each took turns stepping up to a huge flower arrangement with Queen Romilla's name sewed on to a silk ribbon. We blew our candles out as we passed.
The citizens of court and of Emeral's ceremony would be more complicated. A member of King's council would open up, followed by speeches from close friends and family. Queen Romilla's immediate family, the king and princess would finish the speeches. The citizens would then light their candles and blew them out near the Queen's casket instead of a flower arrangement.
It began to rain while I was waiting in line to blow out my candle. Unlike a few others, my candle's flame lasted up to the flower arrangement. It poured the rest of the day.
"What a marvelous piece of art!" My aunt praised. Rowe's smock was covered in blues and greens. In front of him was a painting of the outside scene. "One day, I swear, one day you'll be world renown for your paintings, my Rowe."
I smiled, sitting myself against the window. "Perhaps one day you'll be on the walls of the palace"
My aunt laughed. "Of course, he'll be. Have you ever seen a better artist?" I shook my head. To be honest though, I'd never met any other artist.
The front door swooshed open. An old man rambled in. His cloak was almost in shreds, and his hair was wild.
"Grandfather, shut the door, you're letting the rain in!" My aunt scolded. Grandfather laughed, as he shut the door. He smiled, taking off his cloak.
"You look wild" My aunt muttered. She headed off towards the kitchen.
"I was riding out through the woods" Grandfather said, sitting down in a rocking chair. "When an arrow flew right above my head, stealing my hat. I turned my head to see the dwarves of the north mountain, upset, for I had snuck into their mine fields earlier that day. I had taken a diamond, for you see..."
My aunt rolled her eyes. She entered back into the room. In her hands was a boil of soup with steam flowing from the bowl.
"Grandfather, please do not fill the children's heads with such nonsense. There are no such thing" She said.
Grandfather laughed. "But if magic exists, why can't my stories be true?"
My aunt's eyes moved over towards me. "You haven't been practicing have you? "
I shook my head quickly. "Good" She stated "Magic is like a nasty habit, I always say. If you cease to use it, it will eventually go away."
I laughed, if only to myself. There's a rush that flows through my blood when using magic. A wonderful bliss feels my head.
"Magic leads to nothing good" My aunt continued "I told my brother in law this when he met that siren. And look what happened when he didn't listen to me, the second she gives him a child, she disappears to who knows where"
Rowe left his canvas. "I wish the war would end" Rowe whispered. "I miss Uncle and father." Grandfather nodded his head, saying nothing.
I leaned my head against the window. My mind wandered away from their conversation. Listening to the pitter-patter of the rain, I closed my eyes and went to sleep.