Undying Hope

Written by Spiritblade

Author's foreword: I wrote this as part of an assignment for my Creative Writing class. My friends told me that it was a nice piece of work, but that it needed some refining. Now, that is done, I offer this to all of you. Oh, on a side note, Wesley T. told me that this reminds him of an oWOD genre called Changeling - The Dreaming. It should be in the World of Darkness genre, but as the original idea came from the fairy tale, Sleeping Beauty, I thought I'd put it in a section where it works.

Long ago,

In a country long forgotten,

There were 2 kingdoms divided yet united.

Before the century turned,

As the twin kingdoms stood ready,

To wed its highest born lady.

The twin Kings made a wager,

And to the victor will be the one whose,

Kingdom would grow larger.

And so, both Kings sought out the Fairy-Prophetess,

She who guarded the Sleeping Woods,

She who made the prophecy in the softest whisper,

'Find the man whose eyes shine gold,

And through him, the victor shall earn,

The Golden Throne.'

Long have they sought,

The Prince with the golden eyes.

But, search too long

And the Princesses will die.

Again, the Twin Kings stood before the Fairy-Prophetess,

To beg a boon,

To buy time,

And to put it all on the line.

'Send our daughters into slumber', they asked,

'So that their days will not be numbered.'

To the Kings request, she sang,

'As their days are numbered, so shall yours be counted.

One Kingdom must stand,

To hold together the Sacred Land.

I will do what you ask,

And pray for a peace that lasts.'

But deep in her heart, the Prophetess prayed,

'It must.'

The Cycle turns, as it always does.

Months become years,

And hope becomes tears.

Even as the years past,

The Kings' goals became dust.

What was once a noble dream, built on sweat and toil,

Was razed once more,

The memory returning to soil.

The Princes that took the throne,

Descendants of Kings that sought War's end,

Brought it forth,

And scarred the land.

A great war, future generations called the

Lion War,

And it was one that would enter the pages of lore.

When it, at last, ends,

The Fairy-Prophetess gazed,

Upon a shattered land.

The dream was gone, its memory was dust,

And yet, she knew she had to do,

What she had been asked.

'My duty has yet to be done.

I must wait for the golden eyed one.'

Her words were iron,

One that bound her with a steely grip.

Merciless and painful,

She watched the princesses sleep.

Her duty was a steel weight,

That echoed within her heart.

'Is it so selfish to ask for the same wish?'

The Fairy asked,

'No. No. I must do what I must,

My wish is not worth this transient lust.'

Centuries she waited,

And yet the Prince did not come.

Loneliness taught her sorrow.

The Prophecy taught her love.

Duty was an oath solemnly made,

But she wondered if it was all too late.

Then, finally, he came,

A fallen man hunted by all.

The amber of his eyes not the arrogance of warring princes,

But the burdened weight of Judgement's promised knell.

Pride faded from sight,

And only self-hate was brought to light.

Before this fallen man,

The Fairy-Prophetess stood,

'Finally, my duty is at an end.

I pray, I hope, that he restores the land.'

She asked him,

'Promised One, will you bring back the sacred land?

Will you be King

And bring back a forgotten dream?'

He gazed at the Fairy-Prophetess,

Amber eyes of the sun,

Meeting silver of the stars.

One bound by oath and duty,

The other by deeds done, guilt and tears.

He whispered,

'If it makes many things right,

And wash my hands clean of crimson night.'

'Come with me, then, my prophesied King,'

the Prophetess whispered and led him within,

'Choose one love and revive that dream.'

Upon them he gazed,

The twin princesses of gold and jade.

Legendary were they, for theirs was a promise

Long ago made.

Whispered in the wind and written in stone,

And the hero would ascend the throne.

The road parts from here.

Two paths laid open before him.

On one, the glorious path of majesty,

Starlight and skylight, golden crown of a promised dream.

On another, the desired path of amnesty,

Beneath starlight and sunlight, a chance to makes many mistakes right.

Choose one path, and forsake the other.

Choose one dream made by the past,

Or choose another and make the future.

At last, beneath this sacred place,

He would, at long last,

Find his place.

To the Fairy-Prophetess he faced, loyal and true,

He gave his answer.

'I choose neither.'

Because, you and I are of the same feather.

Widened eyes, crumbling heart,

The prophetess asked why.

For many men, the chance to rule the land,

Was almost always beyond their hand.

Many had asked, had fought, had bled, had lost,

And this one refused with a simple coin toss.

'Why do you turn aside for what great men and women have fought and died?

Why do you refuse what so many have sold their souls for?

Why is it that you will not choose between these two?'

The fallen prince smiled,

And swept the Fairy Prophetess into his embrace.

The answer was given,

And for once, the Fairy-Prophetess felt something fiery had arisen in her pained heart.

What irony it is,

To find that the Prophecy one bestows, can actually be

One that gives you peace, promising in a whisper never spoken,

All of eternity.

'I choose neither, my brave and loyal fairy

For I have chosen you.'

- End