The Point of A Dagger

One

Grief is funny in the way that it warps time. Every moment after a loss seems to drag on, drowning you with pain, every moment of every day, never allowing you to come up for a breath. But at the same time, one moment the dreaded news is delivered to you, and the next, you are standing before a casket, saying goodbye to the people you love most for the final time.

Black fabric billows off my body, flowing in a sea of night on the ground. My eyes train on the freshly packed dirt before my feet, the crisp stone grave rising out of the ground.

Here lies King Emerest and Queen Zara of Plora. Beloved rulers and parents.
May they rest in peace.

The crisp wind of the changing seasons chills the tears on my face as I lean down towards the stone, brushing off the orange and brown leaves, fallen from the tree above. They drift slowly to the dirt, joining their family that has already made their journey to the ground.

My gaze drifts from my parents' grave to the smaller one to the right, that of Josephine Oleah, who was taken from the world after barely a year, when I was six years of age. I hardly remember my little sister's face. I've known loss my whole life, but it never gets any easier.

Gently, I lay a small bouquet of wildflowers on her grave, then a larger one on my mother's and father's. Another moment passes as I stare at the ground, trying to blink away my pain, my sadness. Memories of my parents flood through me, everything we did together, everything we will no longer do. My childhood wasn't perfect, not by a long shot. My parents were busy more days than not, but every moment they could spare, they spent it with me. Mother would take me to the gardens, teaching me of the flowers, letting me create bouquets to decorate the castle. Father would teach me swordsmanship, building my craft with a blade of any size. And on the rare occasion that neither of them were busy, we would explore the many passages and hidden rooms of the castle. For those short, rare, hours, I forgot about being a princess, about being proper, and I was just a child.

The wind blows, rustling the leaves around me, pulling me out of my trance. Wiping my cheeks with cold fingers, I turn away from my family, walking back to the carriage, surrounded by a dozen guards, General Alios among them.

After my parent's death, so many things got set in motion. Distant family, advisors, upper-class citizens of Plora, and allies, all came to the castle to pay their respects. My uncle, Helmer, Duke of Blithe, has taken it upon himself to advise me of the way my father would have me run the Land of Life. Though it's not his place, I let him bring me scrolls of Plora's history, politics, and more documents that I am already knowledgeable of, perhaps more than he. I assume his newfound interest in the good of Plora comes from the matter of my upcoming coronation, and my need for a council. Helmer, along with many other men, and a few women, seem to be rallying for this position since the moment they stepped foot into the castle. They must've forgotten I have just lost my parents.

My guard detail has also doubled since that night. General Alios has been with or near me every moment; I'm not sure he sleeps. I learned that his father was from Saunin, his mother from Azore. From the beginning of our world, children have always gotten their gifts from their mother; so, the General was given the elements of Azore. Somehow, he found his way to Plora, worked his way up in ranks, and became General. I feel comforted, knowing that the best warrior in all of Plora is on my guard detail, while my parent's assassins are still loose.

To make matters worse, no new information has been collected on who killed the king and queen. At first, it was believed Saunin was involved, since our relationship with the eldest Land is already strained and the prince has just come of age. However, their involvement was quickly ruled out for reasons unbeknownst to me. But, I believe General Alios, and I trust the Southern army, the strongest, most cunning army the Land of Life has ever seen.