The Blessed Child

Part I: The Tower with Windows (revised)

PART I

The Blessed Child

There were tales of a grand castle in the middle of the dense forest of the black and white flowers.  The forest knarled itself around the forsaken castle. As if it were keeping secrets...

...secrets of evil or of miracle?

This castle did happen to exist in the unbecoming arms of the forest. And in the castle was a kingdom.

A handsome King by the name Christophe ruled and fought off disasters. His beautiful Queen, Lifieria, spread beauty into there tiny country. The couple had a son named Noel, a young kindling of a boy. The tiny kingdom, was a happy kingdom. But in its depths lay a hideous secret.

Upon the day of the Maker's birth, the second child of the King and Queen was born. The baby was a girl, born into the Castle of Day as its princess.  A banquet elapsed and came seven. Each of the seven blessed the girl with a kiss upon her brow. And they did bless her with her blessings and her curse.

A water nymph blessed her with everlasting beauty. A tree nymph blessed her with a voice to call even animals to her. A wind nymph blessed her with the ability to dance. A fire nymph blessed her with the ability to cook something delicious from the most dangerous and disgusting materials.

Then came the three Sacred Nymphs. The Nymph of Time blessed her with a long long life. The Nymph of Space blessed her with the ability to see truth in a person's words. The Nymph of Being blessed her with the ability to convince others to follow her.

And so was born, The Blessed Child.

So the Blessed Child lived there in the castle for thirty years, pampered by family, servants, and foreigners. Yet she barely aged. She barely looked ten. She was lathered in love, happiness, and "blessings". And they still did not see.

Something bothered her once. It never seemed to darken in the castle, as if day stretched on forever. But she wasn't troubled by it for long. There was so much in the Castle of Day.

The Blessed Child loved the tiny kingdom. But most of all she loved their windows.

There were windows all over the castle. In each she saw beauty, forests towering basking in the sunlight. Mystical creatures prancing beyond the woods. A waterfall, hanging from the edge of space.The Blessed Child searched almost every corner of the castle for something unhappy. She knew almost every crevice. And there was nothing sad, hurtful, or unbecoming. There was just one tower she was forbidden from. The one tower was secluded from the castle, it was hundreds of yards away from the castle, in the middle of the ocean. One long corridor led to it. 

Years went by, and she never left the castle. No one came to visit the tiny kingdom either. The people of the kingdom stayed in the kingdom. And the people outside the kingdom, stayed outside. Sometimes she doubted an outside even existed.

One morning, she woke up to discover no one was left in the castle anymore. Only her. In the depths of the swallowing night, her parents, servants, everyone but her, left . And never came back.

The Blessed Child would stare outside her window, searching for them. But never did their form appear.

She never touched the windows. It was a rule of the house, to never touch them. A superstition passed down from generation after generation. There was a legend, of a curse that would come unto any who touched one of those windows. A curse that would make the person sad and unhappy for the rest of their life. 

She lived with her blessings and the thousands of books with their rustled pages that consoled her.

But one day, the Blessed Child was angry. She never usually was, comforted by the windows and the books that lay in almost every corner of the castle now. Yet today she was. She woke up angry. For no reason at all. So she ran, wild in the castle, in its empty hallways, in its empty empty lonely corridors. But she was stopped. Stopped by a large door, barred, sealed in almost every way. She grew angrier and steamed at the door for stopping her in her rampage.

For two years she was mad at the door, trying to break through it. It seemed an awfully long time. An awfully long time to be mad, and yet, she was bored of books and windows so she continued in her fury. Finally, after the third years she managed to open it. 

The Blessed Child, slipped, unaware of where she was, into the forbidden hallway.

Large windows stared from both sides of the hallway, sunlight and beauty bathing through. The windows showed things more beautiful than the windows in the castle. She walked forward in a trance. The windows glorified her, and in their beauty, she forgot about her anger. Her feet shuffled along the hallway. Step after step, thud after thud. She did not break in her ceremony and walked forward, gazing at each so beautiful landscape. 

Suddenly she stopped. How long had she been walking down this hallway now? A long time she thought. The corridor seemed to stretch on into millenium.

Anger and frustration surfaced, she thought,

"How dare a hallway be longer than I can walk. I am the Blessed Child"

So she walked onward. She walked day and night. Entranced by the beautiful scenes in the windows. Yet still angry. 

One day she noticed that the windows were getting smaller. She ran, following the windows that continued to shrink as she advanced. Till she reached a final window which was so small, she could only see a tiny ashen spark of green. Looking down the hallway there weren't any more windows that she could see. Unconsciously she touched the tiny window, reaching for the beauty it held.

She was stricken with pain. She had touched a window, and the thought of it made her faint.

Then, with a spurt of anger she touched it again, mad at the window for cursing her and mad at herself, yet thinking she couldn't be more cursed than she was.

But as she touched the window again, she realized something with horror. They weren't windows, they were paintings. She slowly walked backward, touching windows as she went. There was a coarse feeling to each window, as if they were made of a hard cloth. A bit of window fell, chipped paint.

They were all paintings.

With a scream, maddening grief forced itself upon her. Another shriek of frustration and she ran. She tripped.

The Blessed Child consoled herself. Ahe wouldn't give up. Maybe real windows with beauty were farther onwards. So she kept walking. She walked onwards. Further further. A zombie with only a goal.The green beautiful windows became smaller and smaller as she walked down the hallway. Then, there were no more windows. The child stopped. No! She thought. There has to be more! She ran, skidding down the hallway, tripping every once in awhile. A tiny window, no smaller than her pinky's finger nail appeared in her view. She ran up to it. Hope growing in her heart. 

She stared, winded. It was red, blood was soaked on the window. Fearfully she touched it. She screamed.

God no! She thought furiously The only window that's real! No! She sobbed. It was real. Too real. She crawled on her knees. Another window, slightly larger sat next to the tiny one. The Blessed Child wept furiously. More horror. More! More! MORE! As she walked downwards, crawled onwards, stretched forwards, her blood leaked onto the floor from scraped knees, wounded fingers, a broken heart. A large window, larger than her stood at the end of the hallway near a door. The window showed nothing. Outside was nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Nothing.

There was nothing in her heart. The remorse was gone. Coldness filled her. She opened the door, unfeelingly. And she screamed. The Blessed Child. What a joke? she thought. She sobbed, she wept, she bawled. Tears flooded down her cheeks.

Strung up in the tower was her family. Dead.

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What do you think? Any grammatical mistakes (there probably is a ton)? Comments and Critique are open to all. (I need it) :)

So I edited it and am dividing the story into parts and each part is in a different point of view, just because I have a feeling I want to switch POV's later on. :) *Editing beginning at the moment to make more interesting*