My heart aches and tears roll slowly down my cheeks, one by one, as I wander around the kingdom that used to be mighty. I could write countless pages about the sorrow in my soul. Every thought pulls me back to the former glory of my sanctuary; my home. Yet, this is not what this story will be about.
I am a peasant, after all, born to a servant mother. I used to serve my fatherland, but now, walking through the ruins of a once-great kingdom, I feel as though I have no purpose. I am nothing. I am just a wanderer who wishes to tell a tale - a tale of a land of free, joyful, affectionate people and of the day that changed everything, forever.
Perhaps, if I tell you what I know of the glorious downfall, I will finally be able to heal...
As I roam, writing these pages, I pass by a small roadside tavern. Suddenly, sadness washes over me. Memories start to overflow my mind. I move toward the tavern, though I am no longer in control of my own body. Despite myself, I feel drawn there.
I freeze in place at the sight before me. A colossal wall confronts me. It is covered with a vast number of photographs of the people from the past; from the blissful time before it all went terribly wrong. In the pictures, children are laughing and playing, adults are waving cheerfully and the elderly are sitting, satisfied with their hot cups of herbal tea.
I can still remember those days. I was only a youngster when I moved here with my mother. We left our home, seeking a life worth living. My mother struggled her entire life and things grew even worse when I came into the world. I could not help but feel like a burden. But when we arrived here, in what felt like a promised land, I felt useful for the first time in my life. I was peaceful, knowing that I was able to take care of my mother as she had once taken care of me.
I linger by the wall more than I should. A familiar face in one of the photographs catches my attention. She looks at me with her soft blue eyes and they take me to the time long vanished.
I remember clearly those days before the harvest, when I spent far more time in the tavern. The air was steeped in the aroma of wild mushrooms and warm spices.
It was the first day of the month October and I made my way to the tavern as I had so many times before. I passed through the door and a friendly smile greeted me.
˝Aye my lad, glad you stopped by! Haven´t seen you in ages, have I?˝ Namrata called out. Her icy blue eyes seemed to embrace me. Namrata was a small but sturdy woman, black-haired and kind-eyed. She was a rural folk, nevertheless, she was wiser than many of those born to higher rank.
˝Got something you might fancy. Come on, you´re not a statue - see for yourself!˝ Namrata continued.
˝You needn´t be so harsh; I´m coming! What do you have here for me, Namrata?˝ I replied.
˝Finally, here´s your shot at some proper work!˝ she said, excitement dancing in her voice. ˝Look, the royal family is looking for a new guard! Their messenger has left flyers on every table, promising work and decent pay. A young and strong man you are, you´ll get the job in the blink of an eye!˝ she exclaimed.
˝Lovely of you to say such kind words, however, I´m unsure of it. Look at me - I´m short and scrawny. I am surely not the sort they would choose.˝
˝What are you rambling about? Who I see before me is a bold-hearted, resilient, determined young man, yet also a fool! What are you even thinking? This is an opportunity of a lifetime!˝ she stated firmly.
˝As you wish, I will go. I do not hold out much hope, but I will go. Before heading off, though, I need some nourishment. Can´t leave on an empty stomach, can I? Some mushroom soup, if you please,˝ I said.
˝Ah, right! I can´t believe I did not offer you soup sooner - a bowl of soup is coming right up!˝
After I had emptied the bowl, I made my way to the royal home. I had never wished to enter its gates. Growing up in harsh conditions had made me keep my distance from those born to higher standing. It didn´t seem just, the gulf between them and us.
Nevertheless, I held the king and his family in high regard. His people were content and untroubled. I could only imagine that the life of his guards would be no less secure, if not better.
I approached the monumental entrance of the king´s residence, but stopped in a flash. ˝What was I thinking? They will not let me in; they are the royal family. They would not risk their safety just to find a guard! This must be a jest!˝ I muttered and turned around, with the intent of leaving. Yet, before I could react, I felt an iron grip pull me toward the palace. As i was dragged along, I knew I had landed myself in great trouble.
The gates closed behind me while I was led through a massive courtyard. All of the kingdom was charming, still never had I seen such beauty in any place; it was so utterly mesmerizing. The garden was abloom with flowers of all sorts. Bright sunflowers, colorful dahlias and of all, my favorite - lilies - gentle, trumpet-shaped and elegant. I used to pick them in the meadow near the house my mother and I once lived in.
My admiration was abruptly interrupted as the two large men, holding me, paused. ˝Oh, heavens! What have you done with the poor man? It is but a job interview; we are not holding him hostage!˝ I heard a man shout. ˝Now, let us be!˝ The men exchanged a silent, measured glance. I was not able to see the looks on their faces, for they were in armors. I could only imagine the shadow of doubt that flickered across their features. They halted for a moment and then drew back, yet remained close enough to intervene at a moment´s notice.
˝At last! Take a seat! Is the garden to your liking?˝ he exclaimed. I sat myself down, but stayed silent, still not certain of the situation I got myself in. I observed him for a while. His features opposed mine in every line. He was quite tall and muscular; fair-skinned with vibrant green eyes and golden locks. Alongside him, I was as Death made flesh - dark features, of humble height, in worn garments...
Eventually I replied, ˝The garden is fair, Your Grace... the lilies... remind me of home.˝ He seemed to be satisfied with my answer.
˝My name is Aatami, but I suppose you know that already,˝ he uttered carefully.
˝My father would not approve of you being here, yet he will not know, unless he gets told and that will not happen. The keeper, who had stood watch for decades, fled to the neighboring kingdom, the kingdom of... my uncle,˝ Aatami continued.
˝I sense that something is amiss and I believe that the people can feel it as well. Father has not shown himself to the people for weeks now. He locks himself in his chamber. The only person he admits is my brother. They are plotting something, yet I cannot tell what. This is where you come into play!˝
I looked upon him in confusion and it was evident as day.
He carried on, ˝We are in need of a new keeper. The people stand skeptical about my father and his intentions; not one would apply for the task. You must be desperate!˝ I was more bewildered than before.
˝Fret not. This task shall be easy. All I need from you is to stay near my father´s quarters and listen for what schemes they hatch. I shall choose what to say, so our plan remains hidden.˝
˝Our plan? I would not say so!˝ I spoke firmly.
˝I would,˝ he responded. ˝Give it thought; we may be of help to one another.˝
From that day forth, I became the guardian to the royal house and the protector of his secret.
The atmosphere in the castle was rather unwelcoming. It was soulless and lonely. I drifted through the empty corridors, silence pressing in around me. Boredom consumed me. I stood before his chamber, hour after hour, day after day. Aatami had assured the king that I was the blood of the former keeper; that I was worthy of trust. Not that it truly mattered. No one entered and no one left while I stood watch.
The harvest had been long over by the day when the first visitor appeared. It was the king´s older son, Aodh. He looked at me strangely. I was about to introduce myself when the door swung open. It was the king. I had never seen him before. He was stocky and silver-haired with eyes identical to Aatami´s. However, his eyes were cold, unkind. If they mirror the soul, his soul must be shadowed and dark.
They said I was done for the day and that I could go home. I acted delighted as they shut the door, but I did not leave. My heart was racing and my hands were shaking. ˝What if I get caught?˝ I thought.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden clash of voices. The king was shouting about some sort of prophecy. ˝...people rise... I... fall...˝ he muffled. ˝Nonsense!˝ Aodh stated. He slammed his hand on the table and the king´s voice trembled, ˝...no one must know... close borders... burn property...˝ I caught fragments of their conversation... what were they planning? I did not know, but it smelled of danger.
Without warning, I noticed the lock starting to turn. I crouched behind the heavy curtains, every muscle tense. My head spun and throbbed. I could barely stand. I could hear Aodh depart the chamber. I knew I was not duty-bound to, yet I started to follow him.
He seemed in great distress. His voice, low and muttering, reached my ears. ˝I would be more fit to rule... cursed uncle... how I loathe him... wants land... will have to... myself...˝ he hissed. Each word only deepened my confusion and a cold fear clutched at my chest. ˝What am I to do now?˝
I made my escape; my body shook with the weight of what I had to tell Aatami.
The day after, I gathered my courage and made my way to Aatami. ˝No new information, I assume!˝ he said with a disappointed smile.
˝Your Grace,˝ I replied, ˝your brother came to see your father yesterday. I heard murmurs; something troubling.˝ I proceeded to tell him what I had heard.
As I spoke the last of what I knew, just at the edge of my vision, I glimpsed a figure that was observing us. It must have been Aodh, but I kept silent. Aatami was bewildered and anxious, unsure of what to do.
Weeks passed, uneventful. Still, I sensed that misfortune lurked close by. Each night, I wondered whether I had misunderstood the conversation. Every passing day, I questioned my sanity, until the day arrived that shattered everything I knew.
The sun had just set when the guards hurried through the corridors with unusual urgency. The word spread quick that Aatami had been accused of betrayal, of plotting against the king. I rushed to see where they were going. I paused as I witnessed something terrible. Aatami was heavily bruised, yet he did not waver. He denied any wrongdoing confidently. But, the king was furious. He had no trust left in his body. ˝Leave, for you are not my son. Leave, I said, or you shall regret!˝ No matter what his son said, the king did not believe it.
Aatami had gone - the only person here, I trusted. I did not linger long; I felt Aodh´s suspicion rise each day. Soon, I too, slipped away...
Life in the kingdom grew ever worse. The king had closed the borders, confiscated and burned private property and forbidden any kind of public gathering. The lovely, affectionate people of the past did not act as themselves no more. They were like the shadows of their past lives, past selves. My heart was becoming an empty void.
Then, one day, the king mysteriously passed away. A flicker of hope stirred within me. I thought, perhaps, Aodh would be even slightly more reasonable.
Sadly, I was mistaken. Tyranny continued, harsher than ever. If I had understood his nature, even a little, he would never allow himself to appear weaker than anyone, not even his own father.
Aodh´s hand fell heavy upon the land. Suffering spread through every village and town. Even so, through all the people´s pain and the cruelty of the new king, my thoughts turned most often to Aatami. I had no way of knowing if he lived or perished, which brought torment to my mind and soul.
I drift mindlessly among the shattered streets. Even now, I cannot fully grasp why events took the course they did. I blame myself as well, for I did nothing when Aatami was driven into exile. He was our last hope and, without him, our home crumbled into ruin. And as the kingdom I once served, I am, too, shattered to pieces. Like the rest of those who survived, I remain only a hollow shell, my soul long since gone.
I, once again, return to the tavern. I gaze upon the photographs, the only thread tying me to a memory of joy. Only, this time, something is different. On one of the photographs lies a single lily, fresh, newly bloomed. I emerge from the tavern, the flower clutched tightly in my hand. Maybe, not all is lost. Perhaps, this is not the end, but only the beginning...