Once upon a time, in the verdant realm of Eloven, there reigned a royal couple whose love was the stuff of legends. King Kayne and Queen Soria walked hand in hand, their love as radiant as the day they first met, guiding their people through times of peace and prosperity. Their daughter, Princess Evanora, was the cherished fruit of their union, a maiden whose grace and beauty were surpassed only by her kindness.
The air was sweet with the scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle hum of bees accompanied the soft melodies of lutes and flutes that danced through the air. The streets of Eloven were lined with vendors selling colorful fabrics and artisans displaying their intricate crafts. Children's laughter filled the parks, where they played hide and seek behind ancient statues of past heroes, their innocence a cherished treasure.
King Kayne and Queen Soria, ever the embodiment of an eternal romance, would often be seen strolling through the gardens, their love as visible as the sun in the sky. Their presence was a comfort to their subjects, a reminder of the enduring peace that had been the foundation of their realm. Evanora, with her vibrant spirit, would join her parents, her laughter a melody that resonated with the harmony of their kingdom.
The royal family would host grand feasts, where nobles and commoners alike were welcomed. The tables were laden with the bounties of the land: ripe fruits, freshly baked bread, and succulent meats, all shared with generous hearts. The nights were illuminated by lanterns, under which tales of valor and chivalry were recounted, inspiring the young and honoring the old.
But as fate would have it, the tranquility of this blessed realm was shattered by the drums of war, beaten by the ruthless King Eliphas of Slawen. His heart, a void where no light could dwell, yearned only for the suffering of others. The clangor of swords and the thunder of cannons replaced the peaceful symphonies of life. Fields that once yielded golden wheat were trampled under the boots of soldiers, the soil stained with the blood of the fallen.
The horrors of war spared no one. Homes that had echoed with joy were now silent, save for the sobs of those who had lost everything. The wounded and the dying were strewn across the battlefield, their cries a stark contrast to the laughter that once filled the air. King Eliphas, with his heart of stone, showed no mercy. Villages were razed, and the skies were choked with smoke as fires consumed what had once been havens of love and life.
As the shadow of war loomed, King Kayne donned his armor, his resolve as steadfast as the mountains, to protect his beloved kingdom and family. He left behind his tearful queen and daughter, their hands clasped in a silent prayer for his safe return.
As the war raged on, the castle of Eloven became a sanctuary for the wounded and the weary. Queen Soria and Princess Evanora tended to each soul with gentle hands, their compassion a salve to the scars of battle. They fed the hungry, healed the broken, and soothed the frightened, their castle a lighthouse amidst the storm of war.
The day dawned when the unthinkable news arrived: King Kayne had fallen, his life extinguished by the dark blade of King Eliphas. The skies wept, and the land mourned the loss of a noble king. With a heart as black as obsidian, Eliphas approached the castle, his shadow an omen of despair. The tyrant's march towards the castle was unhurried, each step a deliberate affront to the peace that had been shattered.
The great doors of the castle swung open, revealing the regal figures of Queen Soria and Princess Evanora, their faces etched with sorrow for their fallen husband and father. The people of Eloven, huddled within the sanctuary of stone and mortar, turned their eyes towards their queen, seeking solace in her unwavering strength.
King Eliphas, his armor stained with the blood of innocents, entered the grand hall with a contemptuous sneer. His voice, cold and merciless, echoed off the walls as he proclaimed his victory. "The land of Eloven, its riches, and its rulers now belong to me," he declared, his gaze lingering on Soria and Evanora with a vile hunger. "Your fates are now entwined with mine. You two will adorn my court, as my queens and as trophies of my conquest. Your will, your grace, your very essence shall be subjugated to my desires. Your king is no more, and with him, your hopes have perished. You, the queen, and the princess shall be mine, as will all that you hold dear."
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Fairy tales for young and old ~ English version
FantasyA few stories that I sometimes enjoy writing. It will therefore not be one, but several short stories. Remember they are fairy tales, for kids and for dreams. Yes it's short. Yes it's not realistic. That's what a fairy tale is...