Dame Gothel

1) The Royal Gathering

The king was seated far back at the end of the hall, facing others, the court seats occupied by noblemen and royalties. The Throne residing beside the king's was empty, hall filled with tense whispers and murmurs.

The ceilings of the court were dressed with red flags and purple banners, the symbol of a golden sun inside the hollow moon being inscribed on both.

Usually, the palace had an ecstatic aura, with violins playing, the maidens singing, doing their daily chores, the noble's kinder frolicking in the tulip yards, and the knights patrolling the borders of the castle. It was bustling with joy, with everyone merry and gay.

But the last few weeks were different. Gloom took over glee and rejoice turned to grieving. All the political activities were at halt and the king rarely left his room. After two days straight had he left the Zimmer for the royal gathering.

He sat on his throne with his head resting on his hand, gaze fixed to the floor. Time and again he looked at the empty throne beside him and buried his head even more.

Wisdom and maturity masked the visage of the young king, and every inch of his vessel screamed sorrow. Seeing their ruler like this made all the courtiers uneasy, and some even feared the downfall of corona.

The hall doors creaked open and the royal advisor entered along with an old man. The whisperings came to a halt and it became dead silent. Seeing the old dweller brought hope in the eyes of his majesty. His stare was transfixed and he nearly stood up with excitement.

The irish bloke seemed centuries old, with his eye slits near to closure, and his ancient beard sweeping the clean glossy tiles of the court. He stood at the center and rested on his thin, yet sturdy cane.

The king's advisor beside him moved a few steps ahead and bowed. With his hands on his back and chest pumped out, he bellowed with all his might:

"Gaunter der therapeut, to meet his majesty shall and has been summoned. His service awaits, O wise king!

"He who cured the strangest of disease, be it wizardry, curse or malady, shall reap the boon of his wisdom and grant thee with a remedy.

"The demise that clutches the duchess, and hinders the babe's growth. Fear not! O courageous one, this old man shall save them both."

With a deep bow, the advisor went back to stand along with the other knights. All eagerly waited for the irish bodach to break the ominous silence, but he seemed fast asleep, for his body showed no sign of movement. The courtroom began to buzz again, as the courtiers discussed weather the old man was still alive or dead.

Grunting and puffing noise echoed throughout the populated hall and the seemingly dead moved his head towards the throne. His eyes were still not visible to others, as if he had none. With a deep heavy accent, Gaunter squeaked:

"Called me, eh Krol? Any tidings? Bad 'uns I see, for ye wouldn't trouble meself otherwise. Speak now! What is it?"

He said it all, but none could grasp. The royals found it hard to deem the forest dweller as 'human', let alone understand what he says. Gaunter kept on mumbling in his beard, and the king could take it no more.

He gawked the advisor with such pleading eyes that the severity of hopelessness disbalanced the advisor. He scurried off, barely managing to keep up and left. A maiden hurried inside the court and bowed to the king.

She stood next to the old man, but he paid no heed to her and kept on mumbling.

Being part Irish, she readily grasped the accent and announced whatever Gaunter squeaked.

"The old wretch asks his majesty how can he be of help."

The maiden had somewhat similar accent to that of Gaunter, but her high pitched voice and the learned sophisticated language helped others understand.

"My wife!" Exclaimed the king. The sorrow in his voice was so profound, even the old man halted from his never ending squeak.

"A week has passed, still she won't speak, nor eat or hear or see. My Arianna! Daren't make a move, not even the babe, My Babe! Oh wise prophet, help her, for I shall bear her silence no more!" The king's present state shook all, even though the pain he hid was fathom more deeper than what was visible.

Gaunter rubbed his beard and put his hands inside his cloak slits. He took out a dilapidated parchment and a pair of glasses. Putting them on finally made his eyes pop out. 

The maiden struggled to continue, as if she had chocked on the words. This made the audience even more intrigued by what was next to happen.

"T....t-he babe is cursed! Tod ist nahe" the maiden exclaimed.  "Her majesty shall sleep to death lest the fate is reversed"

The king felt a sharp pain in his chest as fear bubbled out and took command. 

"A beast grows inside Arianna? That Thing Inside Her Is A Curse? A MONSTER IN MY KINGDOM?" His pale face became fiery red. His thrown slid  back as he stood up and fiercely slapped his hands in the air pointing towards Gaunter

 "KILL IT! KILL IT I SAY AND RID MY LAND FROM THIS SIN. RID MY LOVE FROM THIS TORMENT. RID MYSELF FROM THIS PAIN!" 

He screamed his lungs out. Silence once again echoed throughout the hall and none dared to speak. 

But Gaunter did. 

The maiden followed. "It had grown in her womb your majesty. Killing the thing wont help. Like fire cuts fire, only magic can heal this deep tangled wound"

"Name it, and it shall be done, O forest dweller! Save my love and you shall be rewarded handsomely." mumbled the king as he sank back into his throne.

"A golden bellflower grows on the outskirts of Rach. It stows an immense power of healing, strong enough to make the field bloom throughout. Find it, for its the only remedy to this wretched curse." The maiden and Gaunter both came to a halt and there were silence once more.