The Tale of Mary of Ulric

Chapter 1

The early rain fell upon the kingdom and first rays shone through morning clouds. A castle stood upon a field. The soft orange light stretched onto the castle walls and tapestries, lingering like shafts of copper in the air. Many were all tucked in their beds while the earth warmed and light made dances and settled like fractured petals on the stone floors. No soul seemed to be awake so early. Only the early birds and the Lord. 

The castle was big, but never scary. It seemed to survive on blessings and magic. Long ago, many lived there. All good memories were there, stored like treasure in the stones and shimmering in the candle light. Such an expansive castle was home to many things. It was a place where, past the seas of time, tapestries of deep color and meaning hung secretly. Under the dim warm lights of candelabras, peace did briefly reign. On this rainy day, time seemed to stand still and hold hands with eternity.

On this most solemn day is where we shall start, but it is not where it all began. The seasoned servants are presently stirring. The sun lightens up the empty corridor as footsteps now grow louder. The Queen has brought the sunrise with her. She is carried by her loyal men to lie in state at the magnificent corridor window. A royal life has been led; a royal life has been extinguished, only to be reawakened in the Kingdom of Eternity. The somber footmen linger respectfully at the Queen Mary's coffin. The servants await a new and empty day-an empty day indeed. 

What grief has descended! Only days ago, our noble queen had sat in front of a roaring fireplace. Confined to her chambers, the poor sick young monarch had been draped in blankets- painfully awaiting a merciful Peace that was not of this world. Nurses had flitted in and out of the room. In truth, they'd been attending to a patient that was not thrive. 

Only warmth and peace could satisfy a life that was drawing to its close. And so it did. Late that dark night with bright crackling flames glowing against her Majesty's face, Queen Mary had drawn last breathe. Although her soul departed, the hand of history took the Queen's life story under its wing. Her brief life remains as a legend to be told.

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The tale of Queen Mary begins in the glorious years of the reign of King Paul II. King Paul II was the son of King Paul I, the very first king of the house of Artemis. The royal family name had been changed to Artemis after the Great War against the kingdom of Olenstein. This war was a good victory and a feather in the cap of King Paul I who proved to be a fine warlord. 

Ulric (the kingdom which Queen Mary was destined to rule years later) would henceforth be ruled under a fitting royal name to honor its warlord King. The people declared that the old royal house of 'Flee' would no longer do. Meetings were had and, thus, the house of Artemis was born. It was an old name referencing the Greek goddess of hunt. King Paul I had a been a keen hunter. He had tragically met his own death on a day of hunting with his advisors. 

After a morning of shooting birds atop the castle battlement, the King suffered a heart attack. The King's advisors and the rest of the kingdom were heartbroken. Ulric's people mourned the untimely loss of such a fair and level headed lord. In due time, the coronation of King Paul II took place. Those who were there found it to be a thrilling affair. Grief was soon overcome by grandness and excitement. Many guests stood vibrantly dressed and in reverence as King Paul II and Queen Helena were crowned in the abbey. 

The people of Ulric could not have fared better in the reign of their new Sovereign. The land saw prosperity and the castle dazzled at night. The drawbridge hung open and lanterns gave off a welcoming light befitting of the welcoming disposition of the castle's occupants. 

Often, the King and Queen would wave salutations from the windows of their rooms or as they took walks on the grounds with their young sons. The King himself glanced kindly below from the perch of his library, where he daily retired to read of war history and the necessary weekly government papers.

Yet, do not think that the couple was a private and secluded type. On the contrary, many extravagant parties were thrown in the ballrooms of the castle. King Paul wished to make the most of the country's wealth and brighten the lives of his subjects through various acts of charity and the occasional celebratory ball. Both King and Queen soon had much to celebrate, as they were expecting their third and final child.

The two princes, who had grown up running a muck around the vast castle corridors, soon fell very dutiful and adopted newfound composure. They were told that they would soon have a new baby sibling and both eagerly anticipated this twist in their lives. 

The young princes, Flynn and Raymond, accompanied their father on faraway visits when their mother was no longer able. Remarkably, the pair sat still and did not complain during the carriage ride on the travels which they'd previously regarded as torture. The royal carriage passed valleys, rivers, and streams and allowed the father-son trio to see faraway sights of beauty. 

The big-brothers-to-be enjoyed extensive conversation with the King, who spoke of their own kingdom which Flynn was presumed to inherit. One day, just Prince Flynn and his father set out early on a wooded stroll in the faraway land of Dunham. The King stopped abruptly under an oak tree to rest. The two of them had been speaking of kingship.

"How shall I bear the weight of such a responsibility on my shoulders as this position demands? I am overcome at times." Flynn had confessed with shoulders hunched.

This was a question that plagued the worrisome elder son. King Paul considered it. 

Quoting his favorite Shakespeare line, the king wisely answered, "To thine own self be true, dear Flynn." 

But the king's brown eyes stared with dead seriousness at his son's pale face. King Paul was not yet an old man, but his face was unusually deeply lined. To his children, it appeared as if their clever father had lived lifetimes. 

"Soon you will have a younger sister, I presume," the king continued. "That will be a change in itself. Be patient." The sun was rising in the sky and the father and son headed onward.

Meanwhile, at the castle in Ulric, such a younger sister was born. It was a busy day for the castle. Servants whispered as they worked. A trumpet was sounded in celebration. A name for the new royal princess was then announced. The King and Queen had discussed the naming beforehand. King Paul simply knew the child would be a daughter and Queen Helena proposed the name: Mary. 

As Queen Helena lie in bed with loose blonde ringlets flowing freely around her face, a loyal messenger was sent to the country of Dunham with haste. The King and Princes would soon hear the good news. At court, the noise and ceremony of the day proved too much for the Queen, who summoned one of the nurses. The baby Princess Mary was taken up by the nurse to the small stone chapel on the castle grounds. The nursery was not yet completed and so the Queen determined that the solitude of the sanctuary would be adequately quiet for the newborn to rest.

Dutifully, the nurse had set out with the air of one who was holding a delicate explosive in her arms. She took a seat in the front pew of the chapel. Stained glass colors and impenetrable silence characterized the little sanctuary where the two waited. As the nurse peered down at Mary, she noted brown eyes just like the King's. And she spotted strands of hair that were to turn black as coal. 

Softly, the nurse sang the carol "In the Bleak Midwinter." For it was in the heart of December that this took place. 

This may seem a depressing and indeed 'bleak' choice of Christmas carol. Why should the nurse not have sang a softer song on the ears, like "Silent Night"? As it happens, the nurse's preferred tune was a fitting lullaby. 

The newborn princess would grow up to see solemnity and bleakness in her own life. But as the words of the carol prove, the majesty of the Lord would be Mary's great strength and the frosty midwinter winds would eventually still.

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