Crown On My Head

chapter 4

Outskirts of Kingdom of Tareeya                     Lacey

I have on recent walks in the castle have seen and heard more hushed talks away from me. The court was hiding a secret. Once I was clearly not allowed to hear.

It had been a week since his court had arrived and had situated themselves in. They have been running around playing antics and starting fights like kids. I for one was ecstatic to hear I was going to go out to the outer towns of our kingdom. I hadn't been since my father died. The place where he grew up. Wildermere.

Wildermere, oh, how it holds the sweetest memories of my last visit, especially with Father by my side. The journey to the outskirts of the kingdom, a father-daughter escapade, became an adventure etched in the warmth of shared laughter and boundless joy. The last vibrant memory I have of him. Before he died.

As we approached the outskirts, the air transformed, carrying the scent of wildflowers that greeted us like a fragrant welcome. Father, holding his broad smile, led the way through the quaint streets where the townsfolk seemed to recognize him with a nod and a friendly wave. It was as if the very stones remembered his footsteps from years past. How he played catch and bled into the ground.

The buildings stood proud, adorned with vibrant banners that danced in the breeze. Father recounted tales of this enchanting outpost, weaving stories of unity and camaraderie that made Wildermere feel like an old friend welcoming us home.

The heart of the outpost was the bustling marketplace, and Father guided me through the lively scene. Traders enthusiastically presented their wares, and the air buzzed with the hum of negotiations. Father indulged me in the vibrant marketplace, letting me choose trinkets and treasures that now hold a special place in our shared memories.

We explored the streets, stopping at each stall to share a smile or a brief conversation. The people of Wildermere recognized Father as if he were a long-lost companion, and their laughter echoed in the background as we soaked in the warmth of their welcome.

The inn became our sanctuary, a haven of hospitality and stories. Father, with his charisma, struck up conversations with the innkeeper, and soon, we found ourselves enveloped in tales of local legends and folklore.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the town square transformed into a magical dance floor. Father twirled me around, his laughter merging with the music, creating a memory that feels like a cherished lullaby. The flickering lanterns and the warmth of the community dance remain eternally etched in my mind a home away from home.

As the carriage arrives in the outskirts my face brightens as we come to a stop. I wait patiently, bursting with excitement. The door opens as my feet walk with the passions my father had once had.

I look around. The dirt road stretched endlessly before me as I approached Wildermere, a place that had once held the magic of vibrant colours and carefree laughter. But as I neared the town on the outskirts of the kingdom, the familiar scent of wildflowers was replaced by the dark that has overtaken the village.

The town square, once alive with the hustle and bustle of a thriving marketplace, now felt muted and worn. Buildings that had once proudly displayed lively banners now stood weathered and faded. My heart sank at the sight of the once-vibrant stalls, now empty and devoid of the goods that had once overflowed. The silence that enveloped the streets was a stark contrast to the laughter that had once echoed through the air.

I couldn't believe my eyes as I took in the changes that had befallen Wildermere. The Luminescent Vigil, a tradition that had painted the night with dreams, seemed like a distant memory, one so hidden. The central square, where families once joined hands in dance and chants, now appeared to be in despair, and the Luminae, those personalised lanterns that once illuminated the night, were nowhere to be seen.

The faces of the townsfolk met me with timber smiles. Worn out smiles. Families struggled, the children, once carefree, now wore expressions of sombre quietness.

Entering the inn, where warmth and stories had once flowed freely, I sensed a palpable despair. The innkeeper, once a beacon of hospitality, now wore a furrowed brow. Thomas the man that had taught me to pour drinks and dance the lumeria. Stressed and looking up at the delay of the bell. The painting on the wall of the taven, that tells local legends and folklore seemed to hang with dim paint.

As my fathers daughter, the connection I felt to Wildermere ran deep, deeper than blood. The Luminescent Vigil, the dances in the town square, and the shared moments with my father were etched into my soul a forever memory. I would never let go.

Thomas, with kind eyes that had witnessed the passage of time, looked up from behind the counter.

"Thomas," I greeted him with a soft smile, "it's been too long."

He pulls a happy face. One that seems unfamiliar on his. "Princess, it has how have you been doing, up in the towering castle of yours."

"It's been lonely without my father." his eyes fill with sorrow. My father has been gone for a long while but the pain of his loss. "I thought about coming back to wildmere. But the place would not let me."

"I understand, the place has got stricter with the rules down here too." he gusteres me to come sit. "The king's loss, princess, is still a pain we all carry round. Gone too soon." he brings me into a warm hug. The warmest hug in a long while.

"Everything here is so dim." I glance around. "Have I got the wrong day. Is this not the lumsecient vaile."

He looks to the door waiting for something. Or someone. "The castle your highness." he mumbles. "If i may speak freely." i nod. "The castle has been pushing for more resources than we can supply. They pillage and plunder to make up for some debt your father had apparently had been playing."

I try to think of something to say but i am in complete shoke. I had been wishing for the longest time after my father had been killed to come for comfort. They had been stonewalling me. Blocking every escape to try. Its just a village. Lowel would say.

"So noone celebrates the light festival now. " he looks at me.

"I never knew. If i had known i..." i stare at his violet eyes. He takes my hand and pats it. "We must have the festival." i state.

"We cant but i thank you for trying. Of thinking." he stands up and walks back to the bar.

"But this festival is not only for dancing. Its for hope." i stand up. "You still have the stock of candles in the cellar."

His purple eyes light up.

I set into action sending the guard to neighbouring villages on their horse. Thomas opened the cellar of the inn with undecorated candles that collected dust. Creates of wax and moulds for the wax to melt in. It is the colour of the town hidden in his cellar. Scared to come out.

As the palace guard came back with people for neighbouring villages the sun is beginning to set. The children sat on the floor painting candles as people reminisce about what it had been like before.

Banners and colourful posters erected around the town. As the first candle was lit. The others followed soon. I raced up a hill near to where my father used to take me every summer to watch the festivities. Like a million stars lit on the ground I look up at the glowing sky replicating the floor.

Luminescent Vigil always happened when the stars talked to the watchers. The stars are allowed to have fun every year. To play in the mirror with people. They danced insinc and followed the chosen person playing catch but from a distance.

I hear the laughter travel through the village hoping this saves, and rescues the broken people in the outskirts. Then i wonder why i was never told about what was happening in the ourtskits. Im wonder what else is beeing keepen from me. In those hush convostaions and closed doors.

CRACK!

I hear a branch behind me snap. Mt neck twists as fast as I could. A sudden burn ignites me. I moved too fast. And for no good reason to. It was just one of my guards cheking up n me.