ANGEL

REMEN - END OF THE CHAPTER

Since Margareth gained her owl she used it many a time to send different messages to different people through the whole Remen, but it never came to send one to the chief or healer of a tribe, it was simply magnificent and motivator, mainly because she knew it was with good intent, now it was not about trivial reasons or to awake false appearances but to move Remen to some place, or even more to the bottom of the well or to higher, to raise the world to a landing really illuminated and enchanted.

When Margareth caught the cage where the owl was into, she gently brought it inside her bedroom and realized the animal was asleep with its eyes shut closed, but it was not strange, the bird used to stay this way the whole days and nights as well, perched and shrunken with its perfect and soft wings closed and next to it, sometimes the owl even would put its head down to hide its face from the sunlight, funny, it had a sluggish and lazy expression but every time Margareth needed its help, the helpful and sweet bird never disappointed her and now would not to be different, she realized it when opened the golden and whole hinges of the cage and began to caress the feathers and head of the bird, instantly the owl put its head up and slowly as if awakening from a delicious and perfect dream, opened its huge, black and immaculate eyes just to stock its curious gaze firstly upon everything around it, the furniture of the bedroom, the golden writing desk at the bottom where Margareth had spent her last hours sat down making her letter, the enormous, soft and feather-stuffed bed with its silky and organized blankets, sheets and pillows with a clear and perfumed smell of purple flowers spreading through the entire space and the little bedside table next to it with a pot full with water and a tray replete with food that the queen Latisa had brought to her daughter earlier but Margareth did not touch the food, then the sly owl look up at the bright and shining chandelier hovering up at the ceiling, its piece made with a pure crystal and the lateral parts it encrusted with some beauty white diamonds to give the perfect effect of grandeur and splendor to the precious relic, its brilliance outshined at the owl´s eyes but it had accustomed with the light of the place and did not close its eyes once again, Margareth made another caress at its head and the bird shrank snugly showing that it was enjoying the act.

-never forget that I love you too much, my dear friend – said melancholy the princess and making effort to don´t let her tears flow down – you will take a long and dangerous journey… then if you don´t return for some reason, I want that you know I have spent a great time with you, since the moment you came to me, but look, it is a good purpose, Remen never will really to be the world it shows to be if the things go on this way.

And without any further word but to much emotion, the princess tied the roll with the letter inside, at the owl´s paw, stared at the bird for some more long minutes with concern and kindness, kissed its beak accustomed with her touch and strong presence and headed forward the window with the moon still higher and paler at the sky to say farewell and let the bird take flight to the tribe.

-from now on, you are not the carrier owl anymore, I, Margareth Spark, daughter of the first king Meron Spark, the regent princess of Remen and  the second person at the succession line of the throne, name you the mediator owl, being the  responsible instrument for the communication between our world and their world, and with this task, perpetuate our legacy with the peace to the whole Remen and yours as well, I see you one day, take flight and return to me if you can, Cam-Lory.

Uhhhh uuuhhh uhhh… it was the shrill and resounding sound the bird made when gone away beating violent and quickly its white wings contrasting with the black of the night and vanishing amidst the limbs, trees and foliage of the scaring forest ahead, going beyond the horizon, over the rainbow and tracing the line of the imaginary placing the world of the fairy tales and the world of the death tales apart…

When the bird´s gone, Margareth shut closed her window and with it her heart as well for many things, of course that she had to come back to eat and drink what her mother would bring to her and even more, come back to participate of the social life of the nobility as it should be and acting as a true princess again, making presence at the meetings, teas and everything more, smiling when necessary even the commentary being a terrible bad taste way to speak or something she never would agree with and it was strange because till her last birthday when she asked the peace of Remen, her true world it was not so boring and oppressive as it was being right now when she sent her owl away and was waiting anxiously for the answer of the tribes, maybe only now she were realizing what really mean mediate the peace and it has nothing to do with satisfy the poorest ones and the plebeians with bags of rice and beans or one, maybe two lambs to give joy the owners of little heeds at the rounding, peace has nothing to do with wealthy or false proposals of friendship and understanding hiding evil and treacherous systems of possession and domain behind it as her own father tried to do with the tribes thinking it would satisfy them as it does with our people, but Meron himself began everything bad when he accepted with arms folded that them come into Remen as hostages, as things and not human beings as they are from the world known as Earth and afterwards allowing them to distance from us, even excluding them from our traditions and life, everything could to be so different, but not different as a bad thing, not different according the differences, divergences and I may even dare to say, oddness that provoked a good distancing amidst this place, but different as a good thing, speaking that this different would not exist if different actions and measures was taken by the king…

A king… maybe they cannot endure the fact that a world must to be governed by a king, is it possible? I know I am speaking about my father but… we have to consider every hypothesis when treating of a serious matter that involve thousands of hundreds people and maybe the double considering the Indians and Africans living at the other side… the other side of a world, as the other side of the coin, the other side of a face, the part still unknown to me and I never thought I could one day think about what may have and exist at the other side, just Remen and its fantasies, enchanted balls and fairy godmothers made part of my dreams of child and girl and it always was enough to me, it always involved and made me breathe as a stupid girl and to daydream, even more than my sister Dona that dreamed and spoke about princes, marriages and the power… bah, the damned power of the throne that one day would be hers when she were a married woman, it always was her beautiful and precious mirror of life, even nowadays, I bet.

But why with me is it melting away as if by magic, with the pardon of the play on words? Why is it heaving so much upon my shoulders if I am with a ton to carry and a burden to endure? Am not I a princess and I should not behave as such?

Suddenly another forbidden and confuse thought got into her mind… Greta, the pseudonym, fantasy and character that I made up just to treat and speak with the tribes of the other side, this name that entered into my head and maybe even heart as a blow of magic and boldness, it had spoken much more than just words at that letter, it had spoken courage, bluntness and emotion, of course that emotion, I still remember the last words I wrote to them… count the stars, it spoke little but I think that everything all the same and for the first time at all my life I found myself asking how it would be if I live the other side of this story…

To my great surprise, my Cam-Lory returned to me safe and with the answer that squeezed my heart up along the past few days and did not let me even close my eyes for a second, when I caressed her feathers once again just to catch up with her, I did not lost time and caught with all my strength and anxiety a very dry, old and yellowish piece of paper that was smashed and a little torn too, much more simple than my simple and plain white pure paper, I mused, but it did not matter, just what was wrote on it.

The answer was not one more refusal, was not a polite request, was not an expression of fury but a prophecy, of course it was, the name prophecy was not wrote on the paper but I realized at the same time I put my eyes upon the piece of writing that consisted of just one phrase to go against my two pages letter, and the side of the story had began to be clear to me…

YOU... THE PRINCESS WARRIOR.