Lexia

Love's Conflictions

Her blonde hair warmed his senses more than the beaming sun. Her soft skin beckoned him each time he spied on her through her window. Her light brown eyes were two islands of paradise he'd get lost in each time they gazed upon him. 

She was significant -- even though it raised conflicts he knew would bear their ugly teeth eventually. She was the daughter of King Baron -- a tyrant who dismantled all of Lexia's grace. 

Ah, Lexia: an exotic place indeed. flailing fish were caught every day in deep blue, roaring rivers; fresh crops were harvested daily from green fields; colorful flowers populated hilltops and swayed ever so gently in the wind; chimneys smoked from red housetops, carrying seasoned aromas to the sky; travelers and brown clydesdales trekked the worn dirt roads. 

The land was beautiful, but the reign was not. King Baron's rule needed to be ended. 

Arius was destined to destroy this rule. His father headed Lexia's Legion -- rebel forces dedicated to conquering King Baron and his horrific party. 

"We mustn't watch as he slaughters and condemns our people!" Orion would declare. His eyes would widen with fury. There was a sternness in them, the kind that wrapped itself around Arius and left him cold. 

"Father, can we reason with this man?" Arius would plead.

But he knew the answer. He knew Baron and his hunger for power could never be pacified. The blood of the innocent would flood Lexia's rivers 100 times over before Baron would change. Thinking he'd suddenly metamorphose into a gentler being was foolish. One cannot expect a tiger to suddenly become a lamb. That defines the very nature we're stunned to learn about people: they are who they are. Our desires do not always mesh with theirs. Evil is evil and good is good. That is that. 

Arius knew this. He wasn't pleading with Orion to save King Baron. He was pleading to save Princess Cecilia's heart. If her tears were to fall, he'd condemn the ground beneath them. A good woman's tears taint the Earth they fall upon. 

Maybe -- just maybe -- if he talked to his father about his harbored feelings he'd cajole him toward another route. His father loved his mother before she passed away. He'd sing her songs, play with her hair, and cook her favorite meals daily: spiced roast with seasoned potatoes; fresh lamb with four pieces of bread; peppered chicken with boiled corn and carrots. If love had invaded his life and controlled his ways, he'd certainly understand his son's qualm. 

He resolved that telling him was risky. He'd keep it to himself. Arius didn't need his father's rage directed at him. Those cold eyes were enough to shatter his soul. His scolding would echo in his mind, digging deeply into his heart. We often forget the impact we have on others, be it positive or negative. 

Later that night, when the moon was singing in the sky and bathing the Earth with its gracious light, he snuck out. The ground was cold, the air still and lifeless. He trekked through the hilltops, carefully weaving in-and-out of farms. He finally reached the dirt road that led to the castle walls. He felt small by them, imagining the many arrows that rained down on invading enemies. 

He had to be cautious. If the guards caught him, they'd mistake him as a threat and slit his throat until his blood fertilized the ground and red flowers sprouted. 

Cecilia would leave a little ladder in a secret spot for him to climb. She knew where the guards would be and what spots they focused on. He'd climb the ladder, sneak over the top, and drop into the courtyard. 

There were many trimmed plants, almost forming a maze of some sort. The king loved the decor -- and Arius loved the cover. He'd walk to the one directly to the upper left corner, wait for Cecilia to come down, and kiss her warm hands.