The Ballads of The Skeleton Crew

The Ballad of Two Brothers (5|2)

(№5.2)

The Weeping Monarch, which was the title given to the king after her passing, one day stopped shedding tears or having feelings altogether, that couldn't fit the bottom of a pint, his bastard son was being mildly disliked until he reached the age of boyhood, remnants and features sprung to life too differently to be of the king, where his entirely different background of origin was discovered and a light sigh of wind turned instantly from a brazing breeze to a tornado compacted with a volcano and the boy was abandoned, meant to walk the earth astray, tending to the shadows like his true kin did before him.

His brother on the other hand, the sunshine, the sunbeam, the bundle of pure joy, the apple of the kingdom's eye would spend his entering boyhood completely different.

In this land, at these times, people were accustomed to celebrate two particular anniversaries more progressively than others by the respective passage of rituals:

At the age of seven, you'd leave grey infanthood and enter the stage of more sex oriented courses concerning family typical studies. It was the hazy debut of one's boy or girlhood which was heaven's forbid only celebrated in the most profligate manner possible: Depending on status and riches, the child would let it be woken up by the sun itself, regarding whenever that time would be, sun rays tickling them to wake up. To proceed, girls would be plaited prettily, intricate braidings, interlaced with golden threads depending again on status adorning their heads like crowns, while boys would wear their finest clothes and have a sword for the first time attached to the hip. They'd only get the finest, ripest fruits to eat and the best parts of the meat. The ones stepping over this threshold also were to celebrate their anniversary by drinking their first drop of high-percent alcoholics, mixed in a special tincture with donkey's milk, honey and mediterranean herbs to have the child get used to the harsh, flushed taste of burntness, and they'd drink it to hoping  some luck and good chances were bestowed to mar the way of the rocky, steep future. The rest of the day, the children may enjoy their gifts or time with their beloved until tomorrow hard labour would follow, as one shouldn't be two comfortable, too well-seated in one position, for work and effort were inherently to aspire after in this life.

The other age selected to be celebrated in particular would be of much more importance though: One would break the veil of childhood to enter the rocky, steep path of bitter adulthood at the age of seventeen. On the anniversary, the newly-made adults would find themselves waking up early before dawn, to bathe alone in a crystal clear source of water. Some areas might not be opted with such, so a lot just went to the nearest body of water, any it could be, which would have to suffice. On their lone way, there were to speak no words, to intercept no family or friends and to reflect on their previous path of life, as such is required by their almighty, absolute Goddess that watched the people of the forest kingdom with a fierce eye and an even stricter sword, speaking whenever it cut or chopped but the uttered words of righteously true justice. It was rather an eager blade, drawn to the scent of weakness and insatiable lusting for the taste of blood, privy to execution.

The young man or woman might also think of the profession they want to essay to gleam with excellence. Girls or rather women now normally confronted themselves with the upcoming marriage and their tedious tasks to tend and care for their husbands in every possible instant, to bear the village many blessed children. After bathing, the village would awaken to hand over a small, sharp blade made out of the purest silver as a lucky charm, a token of finality, though the girls usually were advised to consign the knife to their men at the wedding ceremony. At breakfast, where they were to feast only on freshly-made bread and honeycombs, men would receive fittingly short-hair, abandoning the long locks of their youth and women were equipped with more or less rare jewellery. It was also the day, where their guardian angel consisting of the recently passed relative could finally move on to the greater beyond and they were under the capricious mercy of the holy Goddess, just as everyone else. Following their belief, the guardian angel's task was to protect and care from the other side for their blood-bonded children, to make sure the cuts their knee caps endured during playing and tumbling wouldn't infect and how miraculously old, gnarled branches in the woods wouldn't crush them with their weight when toppling down. But it was gravel work, to look out for a young soul and sometimes the eyes of a guardian conveniently would glare the other way, when their despised nephew was balancing on the edge of a cliff and a mischievous breeze caught in his hair...