chapter I - the moon

chapter I - the moon

atop a pretty little hill beside a pretty little village sat a not so little castle.
inside this castle, there lived the most tyrannical king one could imagine,
however, he had one weakness, his daughter, the princess.
he tended to her every whim and desire, he catered to her every need.
this being said, the princess was most unlike her father despite this treatment,
neither domineering nor ruthless but rather complaisant and sympathetic.
the princess requested for the finest wines and the tastiest foods,
the most ripened crop and the most elegant of gowns.
due to the kings arrogance and self-indulgence, he neglected majority of the townspeople's needs
and thus, the princess in her selflessness aided them.
the foods and the wines, the gowns and the crop. all were handed over to the villagers.

the townsfolk were silently waiting for the day that the princess would usurper the throne.
as the single heir to the power of the kingdom, she would be the queen that they had eagerly awaited for so long.
the princess lived out her solitary life continuing to give gifts and necessities to the people.
one day, when the princess was laying watching the stars and moon, she let out a howl.
not in pain nor agony but in disbelief.
the sky was so beautiful, she had always thought this.
since a young age she had a flare for painting. many of these pieces consisting of the night sky, in some shape or form.
the moon was always dominant, always the foremost feature.
tears began to flow so freely, that nothing in history could describe the flood,
not even shakespeare had written so fluently.
sobbing, the princess moved the wet strands of hair from eyes
and into vision came her father.
'what is wrong my dearest? what is causing you such misery?'
'nothing father, it's nothing. i'm just overcome with a feeling of melancholy.
the moon, it's so brilliant and bright. i wish just for a second i could experience it's beauty but not from afar.'
'surely darling, there must be something i can fetch?'
'no father, not unless you can pluck the moon from the sky like a blossoming bud.'