The Sleeping Beauty

Illandra - The Sleeping Beauty

The light was what woke him, always woke him, and the dream fled as it always did before leaving him lying, aware but unmoving with the mixed feelings of comfort and frustration. This morning he could not dwell on the already faded dream, to treasure the memory encased within, there was far too much to do, for on this day he, Joran, son of Hyperion King of Kilmeshwas to become the Crown Prince.

Joran arose and stared out from the expanse of his huge bed. The windows left open to welcome the last of the cool spring breezes revealed the flow of the land. He drew comfort from it, the sight of the gentle flow of pasture, the tangle of the royal forest leading up to the majestic harshness of the brooding mountains. Ahh the mountains. Within those mountains the ancient ways were opening and an army was on the march. The burden landed heavily on him as he remembered. There was much more to this day than a simple crowning.

“Come. Come, Joran.” D’orman, his fey nurse, said, as it bustled into the room, in its wake quiet grey robed servants filtered in. “It is time you stopped dreaming. There is much to be done today. It is your first birthing day as a man and your duties are…”

Joran, who had ruefully climbed down from his bed, grabbed D’orman’s thin fluttering hands, silencing the fey, as he asked,

“Before I must be a man, although law decrees I am one now that I have opened my eyes this morn…” Here the Prince paused, smiling at his own folly, unsure of what was prompting him to make such a strange and childish request. “Before I am a man, D’orman, tell me again of the Sleeping Beauty.”

D’orman paused and its already too huge eyes widened .

“But… you have not asked for that story for many a year, My Lord Prince.” It pointed out in confusion.

“Aye, and I know it. But I am twenty-one years today, D’orman. All childish things must be put behind me.... I am going to war tomorrow. Until then it would be nice to hear of something my family has done that did not include the shedding of innocent blood.” Joran turned away - he did not wish to think about the massed army that had systematically encroached on their lands for weeks. Nor did he relish the thought that his first act as Man would be to lead his people into war. Perhaps that was yet another reason why he wished to hear the story - To reinforce his resolve to do just as he wished not to.

The fey read the thoughts in his face and bustled away, straightening his rumpled bed as it said,

“Then tell you I shall, for the last time mind you, the story of Illandra; the Sleeping Beauty. Many, many years ago, so long that you above grounders, the non-fey, have forgotten except in legends, this land was ruled by a powerful family. This family enjoyed their power and thus, they had enemies.

“As all great families do the rulers of this land grew weak, so weak even in body that the Queen died the morning her child was born. The child was a girl. As is the custom of our people we gave the royal child three gifts.”

Here D’orman paused in its telling for the Prince had opened his mouth then abruptly shut it.

“What is it?” D’orman asked him.

“These gifts. Was I, or my father given them?” Joran asked and was surprised by the gentle grin that curved his nurse’s face.

“Of course. We fey do not go back on our word. All royal children of the Sjinthai are gifted by us. You and your father are no exception. However, each of your gifts is different, just as they are different from those of the Princess child.” Nodding, D’orman continued the tale.

“As you know, in return for these gifts, those in power – the Sjinthai -  pledge to continue to habour the fey in this land. Our gifts tie them to their word. Because the princess was the only heir she was given more than usual. The first was beauty of the face and spirit. That was not difficult, for both her dame and sire had been of handsome looks. The second, quickness of wit and mind, was also easily granted as she was to grow surrounded by the greatest of artists and philosophers. However, it is the third gift that caused all the trouble.