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Once, long ago, in the ancient times of man, and the early years of the afterlife, there lived a princess.
The Nezumiiro Hime, they called her.
The Gray Princess.
She was by far the most beautiful maiden in the land, far more stunning than any star. She was so brilliant that even the sun bowed before her, the moon weeping in its own ugliness.
This princess was kind and wise, gentle and calm, but fierce and strong, quick of temper and dangerous when angered, for the elements themselves answered to her, and her alone.
She was one of the first royalty, of an age unheard of by any other.
She was perfection itself.
Her father, however, still believed her to be his baby child, so, with the belief that she needed the protection of another; he set out to discover the man that would become her husband.
Many fought for the honor of becoming the princess' future King, and many failed.
Except one.
One man rose above all the others, placing himself at the head of the pack, defeating his enemies in order to become worthy of the princess.
Delighted, her father made him her fiancé.
And so they were promised to be wed.
However, the princess, who did not love the man, wept over the looming loss of her freedom and innocence, and the skies cried, the thunder screamed, and the life of her once beautiful home began to fall to ruin with her sorrow.
Many days did the people suffer, as crops failed, rivers overflowed, and livestock died.
Then, one day, the princess, while weeping on her balcony, saw a figure in her garden.
Curious, she went down into her beloved rose bushes, determined to discover who it was that dared trespass on so sacred a ground.
The intruder, she discovered, was a wounded man.
His hair was white as snow, his eyes as black as pitch, his skin a sickly hue, but the Princess, as kind hearted as she was, took pity upon the man, and so took him to her room, and nursed him back to health.
There, while trapped in his fever, the man watched the princess, fascinated by her kindness and gentleness for him, for he was none other than her enemy, a hollow of the highest order. A Vasto Lorde.
Had not the princess been warned about him and his kind? Had she not bee told horror stories in her crib of his dreaded race?
She had, but she did not care.
Soon, as he regained his strength, the man began to fall in love with the princess, and she with him.
When he was finally healed, he stood from her bed, and extended a hand to her.
He beseeched her to run away with him, to forsake her land and title for her love. The Princess did not know what to do, for though she loved him with all her heart, she could not abandon her people.
Grief stricken, she begged him to once again return, in a week, and leave her time to think.
He agreed, and so left her with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to return. She, in turn, bestowed on him a rose of purest white, to symbolize her love for him.
So, a week did pass, and the hollow did not return, but the Princess' wedding to her suitor did draw closer all the while.
Finally, on her wedding night, while the princess lay upon her bed, convinced the hollow would not return for her, and stealing herself for a loveless life of cruel torture, there came a rapping at her window.
And so the hollow had returned, and took her in his arms when she ran to him.
She cried as she kissed him, every tear that fell a jewel on her cheek, begging him to take her away, and so he did, stealing her off into the night to his own home, in the wasteland of Hueco Mundo.
Her father, upon discovering this, was furious, and so decreed that every able bodied man would be sent out into that loathsome desert, and that his daughter was to be found, at any cost.
Many a brave man lost his life, for the elements still protected the girl, keeping her and her lover hidden from the view of her father, keeping her safe. Eventually, the king declared that he, himself, would venture forth.
And so he did, with the Princess' suitor beside him, he rode the perilous deserts, seeking his lost daughter.
And finally did he stumble across a beautiful palace, made of glass and crystal, which the hollow had built, in that week he was away, for his beloved, and so she had, as well, twined her roses of purest white throughout its halls, casting it into a beautiful testament of their love.
The Suitor rode forth, sword drawn, to face the beast, who, in desperation, faced him, to protect his love, for the suitor knew no love for her.
And so they fought, and the suitor did strike down the hollow.
However, as he was about to deliver the last blow, the princess did appear, throwing herself before her love, shielding him. And so it was she, instead, that was struck down.
The hollow, at the loss of his love, howled in anger, and the elements that had so faithfully guarded her joined him, singing their sorrow, screaming their anger, and turning on the suitor.
And so, with all that rage and hate, loss and sorrow, did the suitor find himself struck down, killed by the hollow's own mighty stroke.
At last, the hollow stood, alone on the field of battle, and so he did cradle his beloved's body in his arms, whispering sweet words to her deaf ears.
And so he carried her into the castle he had built for her, laid her down upon a bed of roses, white as snow, and red as blood, and black as death, and so did lay himself down beside her.
And so, he faded away, letting his own life slip away, her hand in his as he joined her in sweet darkness.
And so did the king watch, sorrow gripping his heart, for he realized his mistake, and wept over everything that had transpired, and so did vow, that one day, they should be resurrected by god, those two star crossed lovers, and join each other again in life.
And so was the tower encased in roses, the bodies within preserved in time. And so did the story pass into legend.
Until now...
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I tried to go for the older storyteller vibe…dunno if I pulled it off successfully, but that's about as good as it's gonna get.
Halleluiah…
Please READ and REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hearst, Love, and Kudos.
WPD