A Modern Fairytale

Little briar rose

Venethema was for the longest time an isolated kingdom. The name came from the crown itself: accursed thing. The bearer was on the surface the ruler; in reality, everything in the territory of Venethema was created by the crown. The people, the buildings...everything was decided by the crown, although the crown did so with information found within the bearer's mind. In other words, the imaginative abilities of the crown bearer were the only constraint of that curse. Upon the death of a bearer, the crown would then automatically find its next bearer.

However many products of imagination there were in Venethema, there must, then, be at least one person of flesh and blood.

Many years ago, the infamous warmonger King Valen of Mecrisdale had his eyes set on Venethema. The crown was made by his own predecessor, the late queen of Mecrisdale; but he had not seen it, and he knew not exactly how or why it was made in the first place. Maybe—as with many things—it was only out of boredom. Destroying the life of another out of sheer boredom...yes, that did seem quite likely.

"They are indestructible, you say?" Valen asked a man standing next to him by the table.

"That's the rumor," the man replied.

"What do you say?" Valen pressed.

"An army borne of imagination shall never die."

A glint appeared in the fairy king's eyes.

"Interesting. Let's go meet this sad case."

☆☆☆

In a house deep in the woods, a beautiful girl sat at a small table, cutting thorns off of a deep red rose. Laid out on the table were wild roses and a basket. When she finished snipping the thorns off, the girl placed the now-smooth rose into the basket. Then, she picked up another and began again.

There came a knock on her door. The knock, startling her, made her drop the rose onto the floor.

"Oh!" she exclaimed—and then sighed in relief. At least she didn't cut herself.

The girl went to open the door.

"Good afternoon, Lady Kalyna. Did I startle you?"

The girl—addressed as Lady Kalyna, eyed an armor hanging by her wall. Her chestnut brown eyes darted from the young man who'd just walked in to the armor, and then back to him.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, not bothering to mask the worry in her voice, "Is there a war? Should I go back to the castle?"

The male chuckled lightly. "Whoa, not so fast," he said, "No, today I just came to visit."

"Oh! Oops, sorry about that. Uh...hold on for a moment, please." Lady Kalyna closed the door behind her visitor, then walked back to her table to gather her roses. Carefully, she placed them on a shelf and her basket on the floor. "Have a seat," she said as she emptied her table, "I'll make you some tea."

"Thank you."

He did as he was told, glancing at her briefly before settling in a chair. The man leaned back, lifting his chin to stare up at the blank ceiling. He wore a thin smile, one that just barely reached his green eyes. Despite its brighter color, Lady Kalyna's seemed to carry more life; everything they gazed upon, they did so with wonder, while his simply glazed over most sights without taking a particular interest. Both people in that house, at that time, had golden locks—hers in gentle waves, cascading down her back and stopping perfectly at her waistline, his a straight veil reaching just past his shoulders.

A few minutes passed. She returned with a tray of cups and a teapot. Setting the tray down, Lady Kalyna poured tea for both herself and her guest before sitting down near him.