Chapter CHAPTER IX: RED SMOKE (2)
“This is not the Elf of the South,” exclaimed the king with notoriety. “This is the daughter of the sky; this is the seed of heaven. This is the eminence of divinity. The firstborn of our clear rivers; the queen of all clearings, of all mountains, of all forests. This is the call to be a legend! This is the call to be the owner of all nations! This is our hope, our path, and the flag that boldly flies our prosperous walk! Our prosperous destiny! This is, Queen Amalia!”
“Let me tell you right here,” he continued, “in front of all my honest and treasured people, to be your husband for all eternity.”
Suddenly, in the bells, a strong wind began to blow. Sounding with each other, and preaching the dark fall of the sky. Even so, the show needed to continue. They ignored the storm, and they proceed with the event in the cathedral. They danced and sang together, and rejoiced at the presence of heavy drops falling from the heavens.
“This is the best storm that has passed through these ages.” said Amalia, dancing with her husband.
“Even in the sad paintings, you fill them with happiness” Argôn said. “You have taught me to caress the airs of storm, and transform them into winds of progress.”
“It is unreal everything that is happening to us, Argôn” said the smiling woman. “The lights, the people, the ceremony, the kingdom, our family. It is as if we are living in a dream.”
“Then, woman, if this love exists within our dreams, never wake me up” exclaimed the king.
The woman was blushing, for the King’s words were authentic, and he gave them to her like beautiful roses. The man spoke with such security, and he fell with his beloved charms and airs of love and greatness.
“You know, I’ve been considering lately writing our story” exclaimed the woman. “What do you think?”
“Writing our story? For whom?”
“For our children, silly!” she said dryly. “I have a notebook where there are some writings about us. I could start from there.”
“Are you talking about your red diary?” asked the king.
“Yes!” she said excitedly. “How do you know about it?
“I’ve seen that notebook with you since you came back from fishing with your father.”
“From fishing with my father?”
“Yes” said the man, “when you caught those goldfish and we ate it. Remember?”
“Oh yeah! I forgot about that.”
“Besides,” he continued, “I know you write some nights in it when you can’t sleep. What do you write in there? Do you think I hadn’t noticed?”
“No! Not really!” said the woman, laughing. “I only write some things that could help our children understand our story better. At the end of the day, this is also their story.”
“It is true,” said the King. “But they are still too young to understand all of this. Maybe one day, when they are older, you could tell them. And of course, I want to be there when you do it.”
“I hope so!” said the woman.
Amalia tilted her head, and the dance became a little slower.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it is just that,” the woman exclaimed, “I miss my father so much. All these memories came to my mind.”
“Where he is, my love” said the King, “happiness and fullness reign. I know that his soul rests in peace, and it has been largely thanks to you because, before he left, the joy of seeing you grow so much shone on his face. You gave him a lot of love, and I know that wherever he might be, he must be very proud of you.”
“Kings are too powerful, supernatural beings. There is no kingdom that will meddle with Anais once more.” the voices of the people murmured.
In the gradual fading of the crystalline rays of light, the citizens began to withdraw from the cathedral. Although the torrential water of the clouds had stopped falling, they kept roaring with the bulky outbursts coming out of them. Large currents of light fell everywhere, except in the evacuation path of the great refuge towers, a giant underground chamber, which overlooked roads that resumed towards the different parts of the city.
Argôn directed this, and on each road he placed a guide to orient it through the narrow passages; the unique path for each of the corners of the city. Each end of the road had an iron lid on the top, which provided access to the city from the basement. It was possible to evacuate all the people without minor risks. It was recommended to stay inside their homes, as the storm looked even more dangerous than the day before, but at the same time, with the security and confidence that the great fortresses of sands and blocks that resisted the great, would not let them down. They imparted the message of keeping calm, and the assurance that the storm would soon pass and everything would be fine, since according to the King, it was something temporary.
In the restlessness of that night, a gray and faint episode crossed the walls. A greyish energy dominated the surroundings of the huge castle. The sound of creatures, impossible to identify. Silhouettes that emanated a punishing fire from the heavens, roared and announced the coming of a plague. They came as begets of the great dark clouds, roaring the great chalice of justice: an enemy claiming the throne. From their perspective, everything was a catastrophe, while the mother of the queen was burned alive slowly and she was anxiously looking for her children, but couldn´t find them anywhere; when she suddenly perceived the end. The fall of the king, the murder of one of these monsters to his beloved, to his protector. Without him, she was nothing, but she didn’t worry because she knew perfectly this also meant her end. Amalia started to turn her back to the amorphous creature, slowly; feeling the disturbing bellowing of its east on her neck. When the monster appears, it opened its mouth and tried to devour her, tirelessly screaming with despair and helplessness, before realizing that her soul was not where she believed it was.
“Good morning, my love!” Argôn repeated “Are you all right?”
“Yes, just a dream. That’s it–”
“You were shaking, and kept moving,” he said again. “Are you sure you are doing well?”
“It was a nightmare, maybe I’ll tell you later. You must go on.”
“You’re right, but this won’t stay like this. You didn’t look good.”
“I’ll be fine. I will look for the children.”
The King began putting on his reinforced leather boots. It was exploration day for the army, and the leader was enthusiastic and focused. The disoriented woman went to a nearby closet, but on the way, she stumbled and fell. The King was worried, and got up immediately from where he was to help her get up.
“You know what, I’m not okay” she said. “I had this dream, and I don’t want to tell you because I know you’re not going to listen to me–”
“But my queen, how can I help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong with you?”
“Argôn, it is destruction,” said the woman, trembling. “The end is really coming; everyone dies except for me. I had never had these visions before for so many days straight. I am the last one again, and the creature devours my being. I can’t deal with this anguish anymore; it gets worse, violent, rawer. This must stop.”
“My dear, again with the same dreams?”
“Argôn, this time it is different–”
“Of course, it is!” emphasized the king. “Look at this fortress, look at this empire, look at what we have built, my love. The distant kingdoms know us, respect us, value us. The forest protects us, creatures esteem us. We are unwavering, what makes you so insecure? I already told you, it’s you. It’s not bad that you feel that, but fear is a subject full of lies. We have won, and we will win again. We have grown and will continue to grow. And if we have to defend ourselves, we will do it again. If we must enter the battle, we will enter and succeed once again. This distinctive value is what accompanies us, since our ancestors. You are a beautiful creature and life is with you; trust it, trust yourself. Trust your family, trust your kingdom, trust your people. Look me in the eyes, sweetheart; take my hand. I won´t let you down. I won’t let you fall. You are the leader of all of us; the lead to follow. We are all inspired by your power, your courage, your security. I will never let you get hurt, nor allow you to unfairly take away what you deserve for the love you give to this world. How would Elgoneth want that for you?”
“Well, it’s true,” said Amalia, removing a tear from her eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I lose control every time I have these visions. I have to meet in the central square with the children and I must be horrible, how do I look?”
“You look beautiful, my love” said Argôn. “You demand too much from yourself. It´s okay to cry, don´t ever question your strength. If what you’re looking for is perfection, then just stay the same! Your face and your smile rejoice my heart, and all of these people. I wouldn’t change anything about you, and you shouldn’t try to do it either. So don’t even bother asking how you look, wash your face and wash your hands. Lift your forehead and go reign your people.”
“I love you, Argôn” said the woman. “Will you always be here for me?”
“For all eternity, Amalia.”