by D.E.P.
A breeze went past the balcony, causing the king to shiver. Picking up his shiny golden crown of power, the king walked towards the stairs that led to the highest room in the castle. The stairs winded around the walls until a door appeared in the presence of the king. “Aperire,” said the king in a bold voice while an unnoticed clear tear dropped from his left determined eye; it streamed past his lips and onto his chin, finally dropping onto the white marble of the stairs. The huge white door finally opened for the king to pass through. The king moistened his lips in bitterness, tasting the salty remains of the tear.
A comfortable canopy in appearance floated in midair with translucent curtains displaying an immobile dark shadow. “Descende,” the voice of the king echoed in the room. The bed hovered toward the crystal floor, landing on a bare spot. The king pulled back the drapes, revealing a beautiful female figure. Black spiraled hair spread across the white moss that molded to the female’s slender figure. Thin black eyebrows spread across the now opened purple penetrating eyes. The small soft nose curved towards the plump red and moistened lips. The woman wore a small red dress that descended a few inches above her knees which were folded to the side. “Angelus, my love,” said the king while opening his closed eyes.
“Fortis, my blade,” replied the calm woman while looking directly into the eyes of her husband.
“How are you feeling?” questioned the king while embracing the stunning face in his hands. He wrapped the hair between his fingers and slid them down to her shoulder. His eyes narrowed in sadness as he saw the woman’s expression of joy change to sorrow in a split second. The queen changed her expression to a reassuring smile, but it was obvious she was faking the expression of her suffering.
“I feel all the better with your arms embracing me,” said the king’s queen, pulling herself to her king’s shoulders, “Remember in the past 300 years when you bestowed to me your aura in the presence of the King of the skies?”
“I do. Your red aura flourished in excitement as two lovers became one,” answered the king. Angelus smiled in happiness, displaying perfect white teeth. Her eyes widened in pleasure as she remembered past memories.
“We were one of the few daring enough to go the Garden of Enchantment. Remember?” asked Angelus.
“Yes, the trees were still and the castle was silent. The only noise came from you and me running past the marsbabble trees and the flowers of ignis until reaching the Vines of Fatum. How you embraced me with such warmth until we fell into the vines’ chilliness. As if mist, they disappeared, revealing a never-ending garden unbelievable to the eye. We had gone before, of course, but the garden was far more magical on that day. Colors flooded our eyes and we smiled at each other…,” said the king.
“And kissed passionately until reaching our hands toward the vines once again to reveal our destiny?”
“Ah yes!” exclaimed the king a bit sarcastically, “Your tender hand on top of mine reached out toward the vines we had only heard in stories. You looked at me a little frightened, but determined, as our hands went into the vines for our destiny to be revealed.”
“The Rings of Immortalitatis,” replied the queen, smiling while beholding the purple jewel glittering with every movement the soft hand made.
“Then why is it that you are crumbling like a leaf that has fallen from beneath the heavens, my dear?” the king questioned with a slight anger in his voice.
“To give life to your roots,” answered Angelus, her eyes narrowing.
“I do not quite understand,” replied Fortis.
“Everyone’s time has to end at some point,” said the queen while the color in her eyes diminished in vibrancy. She looked away from her husband, hiding her emotions, “Mine is coming to an end.”
“But the ring…”
“You believe every magical misconception you hear? I thought I had married a wiser fool!” she snickered, “Every magical element has a secret, which is the true magic.”
“How else can you be said to live immortally!” exclaimed the king, slamming the hilt of his golden blade to the ground with his right hand while tightening his grip on Angelus’s hand. The sudden noise frightened Angelus which was clearly shown as she widened her eyes in anger.
“Must you be so preposterous?” shouted the queen, “That you cannot distinguish reality from what you wish to be truth? Fortis, you will always be mine, and I yours. Let your hand float in the air and let all that once was to be left for Mother Nature to decide. I love you dearly, but realize how much pain has wrapped around your heart. Magic has its own ways of working; I am certain I live further, but in a different manner. While it will be difficult to deal with the situation, promise me you won’t lose hope; losing hope in yourself is losing hope for me.”
“But love, there must be a way,” said the king reassuringly, “The vines will help us.”
“What the vines help with is what they also take away,” said the queen, “Trust me with this.”
The king turned away, his red cape floating in midair as he fled down the stairs. He left his wife’s outreaching hand. The king’s eyes narrowed in a deep frown as he quickly stepped off the last step, deliberately pounding hard onto the shiny marble white floor. It reflected the sadness in his eyes as he stared at the ground thinking, believing, and lying to himself. Thoughts floated in his mind, conflicting each other as if at war.
The king ran at a fast pace, pushing aside his servants from in front of him. Pushing the door to the courtyard, he ran past the long stairway that wrapped along the small pond outside. Two-headed blue frogs with radiant orange eyes stared at the king before them with questioning looks. The king turned away from the frog’s view as he headed to the Garden of Enchantment. He stared at the tall walls, the Vines of Fatum. He took off his long red cape and laid it on the silver ground as he walked slowly to the vines. He pulled his head first and then his whole body into the vines. The vines opened a space big enough for the king to enter as the vines formed around his body, enclosing him from reality.
The sky was slightly visible as flowers and vines spread from one corner to the next. The king stared at the ground for a moment remembering the times before the present. He remembered the very day he had stared at the vines, not knowing whether to enter and follow his own form of curiosity. He had stared long enough to become bored of the thought until a beautiful girl had approached him from behind. The girl had been what others would regard as a goddess. Her eyes were a captivating dark purple. Her long black hair had spirals that wrapped around the softness of her skin. She had crossed her arms, the king remembered, waiting for him to enter the unimaginable.
“I haven’t been this uninterested since the observance of those draconisflies missing their prey at the pond,” she had snickered while looking above the trees, “It really was the boringness of things; if I had been blessed enough to become a draconisfly, I would have crept up slowly to those snickering insects. Then I would have grabbed onto those skinny necks to honor my family.”
The boy had only stared at the girl as she had twirled her black hair between her fingers. She had smiled, revealing teeth deep in white color. Stopping the movement of her finger, she had frowned at the boy. The girl had a simple white dress, matching the light complexion of her slender legs. She had twirled her right leg back and forth in a slow manner, waiting for the boy to respond. After biting her lip, she had said, “Why don’t you go past the Vines of Fatum? Only a true hero would do so.”
The boy had continued staring at the girl as a thick clear slob ran past his lower lip and along his black clothing. He had stared past the girl, toward the ocean, watching the waves spring up from afar. The girl had looked behind, smiling malevolently before returning her eyes towards the boy who was now only a memory. “Where are you? I don’t like games you know!” she had yelled sweetly. Holding the sides of her white dress, she had walked towards the vines, determined to break the laws of Mother Nature. Her whitish figure had soon disappeared into what was behind the walls and into what was
named The Garden of Enchantment.
She had looked around, not knowing where she was, how she had gotten there, and where the boy was hiding. The atmosphere was much different from the outside world, as if it were a time capsule of a different dimension. Every step she took produced a bare spot on the ground, only to be replaced with a new creation of flowers. She had felt a tickle in her arm but left it unnoticed. “I’m right here. You know, I have never been so uninterested since the waves crashing against those huge rocks only to have the rock stand still as it has for centuries,” the small boy had spoken.
The girl had smiled annoyingly while sticking out her perfect pink tongue. Her eyes, however, widened when the boy approached her. “I didn’t know you could talk, much less treat a girl with some respect,” she had stated. She had smiled as the boy bestowed a perfect praesenscrepitus flower in her hand. The long light blue stem, bordered with several toroid shaped leaves, lead to a dark purple flower the size of a dish bowel fit for the king himself. Melon-shaped, at the tip of the flower was a blue bow. The girl had carefully pulled on the limp string as the petals opened outwards to present a long red anther in the center of a yellow cup-shaped stigma.
The girl had stared in wonder at the new discovery, something she had not seen in her first ten years of life. She lowered her small nose and smelled each thin triangular-shaped petal until they seemingly wilted. “Look what you did!” the boy had yelled in anger.
The girl, startled, had stared at the flower until the tiny yellow stigma produced a dark blue color. The blue color filled the cup until falling like a fountain to fill the rest of the flower. “What is this? Is this a trick?” questioned the girl while stomping her right foot onto the ground. If the boy had anything to do with a mischievous plan, he was succeeding in acting the opposite. He had stared at the flower in bewilderment, getting closer to the girl until holding the stem with her. The flower was covered by a blue fire. The boy had slowly put his finger into the blue essence and unbelievably did not get burned. “My name is Angelus by the way,” she had said. She had walked quickly towards the vines and disappeared, leaving the boy with an awed stare.
He had seen the blood drip from her arm. It had dropped to the ground, several drops at a time. And she had not noticed. She had clumsily scraped her left arm against the spikes of an unnoticed vine. The sharp thorn had easily dug into the surface of her skin, leaving her with a cut an inch long where blood had easily slipped out. Once she had held the flower, her scar had slowly disappeared, leaving her as beautiful as she had been.
Remembering these events kept the king determined as he stepped along the Vines of Fatum. He quickly searched for the praesenscrepitus flower in despair. The flower, however, was nowhere to be found, as if it was chosen not to exist.
The king fell to the ground at a kneeled position, covering his eyes with his hands as he cried in despair. He frowned, not knowing what to do. He stretched his long arms until they touched the roots of the Vines of Fatum. The King, remembering the vine’s gift of destiny, quickly stood up and held out one hand. He stared at it for a while before abandoning it to the slimy wall. At first his hands only grasped slimy cords of life, nothing beneficial for his wife’s situation. Until, yes, he finally felt something deep inside the wall. A thin stem had followed its way to his hand. But this was not a blue stem, nor did it have the same form of leaves. This stem, silver and strong, was much like a metal. As if believing the vines had made a mistake, the king quickly pushed the stem back into the wall and searched once more. However, like a magnet to the king’s hand, the stem was guided once again towards the king’s palm.
In dismay, the king understood his queen’s fate. On the tip of the stem stood a dark red rose. He had understood its meaning long before he had seen the stem. He felt the cold, stiff stalk. He knew what to do as he returned to the palace.
Passing the boulders that guided several botanic garden paths, the king ran towards the stairs leading inside the palace. He quickly ran past the painting of newly founded lands and heroic figures that were already not seen as meaningful as in the past. The king walked faster, quicker, until reaching the first step of the swirling staircase.
Each step was merely touched as the king raced to the doorway and forced the entryway open. The queen was asleep; her long eyelashes stretched out before her closed eyes. Even when she was asleep she looked beautiful thought the king as he stared at her. He walked slowly and quietly to her death bed. The king did not want anyone near. He wanted to be alone with the part of his life that meant the most.
Gently, the king spread his fingers through the queen’s black hair until she slowly opened her eyes and smiled. The deep profound smile made the king’s lips spread wider despite the tears running down his beard. The queen’s eyes narrowed and her lips tightened as she comprehended the king’s actions. The Rose of Alterius Vitae was held in his hand. She knew he had gone to the Vines of Fatum which had pronounced his destiny. His destiny was to separate her body and soul so one would never need the other.
The king smiled reassuringly. “Are you truly sure about this?” asked the queen sternly. The king caressed her hand and kissed it.
“It is your destiny, my love. I finally understand magic. The ring you have does in fact give immortality, but in a different form. The question is if you are willing to go through this?”
“I am not sure,” she said as a tear dripped down her cheek and her eyes formed a steady frown, “What about the twins and you if I must be only a spirit that drifts through the hallways of the castle?”
“We will all be fine. It is not as if you will never see them. In fact, when you take the juice of the Rose of Alterius Vitae, you will become a powerful spirit that will protect our land.”
“I find it to be true. I shall take it while I am still alive and separate body from soul, soul from body, and give life to a new era.”
Standing up, the queen snatched the rose and lifted it up to the heavens. She took a deep breath and drank the juice of the dark red rose that swiveled beneath the petals. At first nothing seemed to happen. The queen smiled awkwardly. “I guess my destiny was overly questioned,” the queen laughed. The king smiled at her remark.
The darkened rose quickly shriveled up, until the dried dark petals dropped to the ground, revealing a large purple seed the size of a grape. Once the last petal dropped, so did the queen. She was clinging onto dear life as the petal had. The king reacted quickly; he dropped to his knees as the queen gently landed onto his arms. The king, believing his queen was now separated from her body, was astonished when he heard the queen gently breathe. His head was atop her shoulder. Quickly, he stared at the now opened eyes that pierced his heart with not sadness, but joy.
“Don’t you know the rules of this magic you hold in your hands?” asked a confused Angelus, petrified by the king’s stare. She had thought the rose was one of spirit, not of seed.
“But I do, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you part way, but it was the only way to save you. Were you not supposed to separate from your beautiful body?” asked Fortis.
“Was there anything you actually learned about magic from our most beloved instructors?” asked the queen sternly, “This rose provides the separation of body and soul. You are correct in that sense. But until that seed grows, I will always be by your side.”
“But when will the seed grow?” the king asked, slightly startled.
“Like any other seed grows, of course, with a tiniest drop of water. Then, as long as the rose is alive, my soul will also be alive. My body will be separated from the body as the rose inside the seed separates from its domain. That seed is essentially my life.”
“And the stem?” asked Fortis, staring at the thin silver pole in his hand.
“That’s a very valuable item. Hide it well. It allows you to view spirits in their awakened form. It must be useful or else the Vines of Fatum would not have transformed the anatomy of the rose to also contain this wand.”
The ki
ng gently removed the seed from the stem and placed it in a safe box. “What shall I do with the seed?”
“Guard it with your life.”
The king knew what he now carried was the life of his queen. He knew only one person that would know how to protect the large purple seed. Only Sapientem was wise enough to formulate a plan to make certain the seed was always guarded well from waters way. His land had banned magic several years ago, making certain that magic did not prevail in destruction. He would have to travel to Sapientem’s palace.
“I must then go to Sapientem,” stated Fortis.
“Oddly, I feel you should not go to where he resonates. Several beasts have been seen as only shadows roaming the skies,” answered the queen.
“It’s a risk I am willing to take,” said the king, “For you.”
“But your daughters, they merely had only a minute enough to call you their father.”
“But without their mother, life would be unworthy to exist; I have made up my mind. I shall go toward the path to visit Sapientem.”
“Must he live so far? After all, you two are friends. Cannot you speak to him through the Rocks of Praevidentia?” asked the queen.
“Of course not! That is preposterous. Blasphemy. My brother’s followers may be over watching every movement I take. I cannot take any risks of others knowing of my leaving. It would endanger yourself and the land.”
“Your brother is nothing but an image you still fear. Take with you your most honored men, and may the Sky King bless you on the way,” stated the queen softly.
The king kissed her hand gently and left his queen against the white moss, able to see her red figure at a distance before the spiral staircase descended to the foreground.
Chapter 3
A Word of Magic