Becoming Rapunzel

Remembrance of Dovia

It was a cool day in autumn. The leaves of the forest were beginning to lose their red and orange and turn to brown to fall away. I loved autumn the best. The colors of the world were so vivid, so beautiful, that even spring was rivaled by the reds and oranges.

I sat on my window sill as I patched a hole in my other dress, singing to myself. Both my dresses were getting too small for me. They were tight around the bust and pulled at my arms. I needed to remind Gothel to bring me fabric for new clothing. Either that or give me one of her old dresses. I was full grown now, my hair reached the bottom of the tower braided, and I guess I could fit into Gothel’s old clothes.

Just as the trees begin to shed their leaves for the winter comes a national holiday. I had marked it before, though I was not sure what it celebrated. I knew that the village far across the forest hills would build a huge fire, make music, and sing tonight. I loved watching and hearing them off in the distance.

The festival is called the Remembrance of Dovia. It celebrates the life and death of a national hero. Long ago, perchance two hundred or so years, there was a war between Alamann and the country across the sea, Killyrias. The Killyrians have the mightiest navy in the whole world, and have for several hundred years. This was to the distinct disadvantage of Alamann, for it meant that most of the war was waged in their soil, in their harbors and at their coastal towns. As the war raged, King Lude died in his castle of some common illness. It could not have come at a worse time. No one had expected him to die so early, most especially his son and heir, Prince Otto. He was still young, just passed majority at seventeen-years-old, and was new to warfare. But he shouldered the burden of kingship as well as he could, with his father’s advisors to support him. As the war dredged on, the people grew tired and frightened. Some took to the forests and the mountains, hoping that the Killyrians, so good in water, would be as helpless as babes in mountainous ranges. Thankfully, no one ever had to find out.

Young King Otto bolstered the army’s courage enough to have them make one last stand, at the coastal city of Regen. This wasn’t just any coastal city. It was the wealthiest and most important city to the economy of the country. It was young and ignorant of war, much like its king, in contrast to the old stalwart and well-defended cities of Erding and Landsgard. The Killyrians had overtaken the city almost a year ago. The admirals were so self-assured of their strength that they sent almost half of their ships to patrol other taken harbors and sail along distant coastlines. It was now or never. With the help of their allies, the Ball people, on their ships, and the Alamanni army creeping from inland, they had surrounded half of the Killyrian forces and were ready for an ambush. The only two things they were waiting on were evenfall and a report from a secret contact within Regen. When twilight came, a messenger arrived with the news that everything seemed to be in order, but the first contact had not passed on the needed report to the messenger.

So with the advice of his councilors, King Otto went ahead with the attack. Soon, a full battle raged in the docks and harbor of Regen. Despite the advantage we had, the Killyrians were fierce and, at home in the ships, fought well. Halfway through the battle, it looked as though victory could go to either side. As the king’s regiment and several others breached the docks, a group of men came out on the deck of the main ship. Through the fires raging in warehouses and the light of the moon, it became all too apparent what had happened.

The first secret contact, overdue with the report, had been captured and now stood with three war-hardened admirals on the deck. The king froze at the sight. His regiment froze. With them frozen, many of the Killyrian sailors followed suit and turned their gaze behind them, to see what was happening.

The secret contact was a woman. Not just any woman, but the king’s older sister, Princess Dovia.

Dovia had sneaked into Regen and attached herself to the resistance there only a few sennights before, much to the dismay of the royal family. She now stood, bloodied, with her skirts ripped and waving in the dark wind, with a noose about her neck at the end of a sword by the admirals. They attached the rope to the banister of the ship’s railing.