The forest was evergreen and sublime. There glistened the colours of the rainbow as flowers awoke from their long slumber after the cold season's waltz.
Spring was upon the land—a rebirth, a miracle like Lazarus's after the sharp finger nails of chill faded and the sun danced once more, reigning on the heavens as the bright, clear sky returned.
Birds in the air sang merrily, along with the breeze's gentle music that welcomed the new season. The whole kingdom was a serene paradise that the long hibernation and slow time had already bid farewell—only to return in the coming months. For now, the people finally went back to planting more bounties, curling the warmest smiles as they said glorious salutations amongst their peers.
In the palace, where it lies at the heart of the Kingdom of Olejandru, it was equally jovial as the warmth of spring came to kiss them on the cheeks. At that time, as well, a new tradition commenced as one little princess walked into the forest as she held on tightly to her beloved nursemaid while she listened to her favourite tale, The Tale of the Fairy Princess.
"Why is it always a sad ending, Alessandra?" The little princess asked, pouting her lips as if she had expected more of the story.
Seeing her façade, Alessandra, her ever-devout nursemaid, who loved her dearly, laughed, which made the princess puckered up her face even more like she was some fish. "Ha! Ha! Oh, you silly bee. You have already heard this story hundreds of times! You know how it will end."
"Can we not change it? Make the last sentence a happily ever after for the merchant man and the fairy princess? An ending where the fairy queen forgave them?" She said as she unwittingly hastened her walking pace.
"It is what it is, my dear," Alessandra answered. "Believe me, I also wanted to have a happily ever after, but the tale ended like that. We cannot change what was already done."
"But it is just a story." The princess countered with a sad note, pondering a lovely ending to the fairy princess's tale.
Understanding her sentiments, her nursemaid playfully fidgeted her small hands while shaking her head as she said, "No, my dear—it is not just a story. It is a story of someone. They say it did not even happen that long ago."
The little princess let out a gasp—surprised to learn that her favourite tale could be a possibility, like in flesh and blood. "Is it real?" She asked, her cheeks burning crimson as a growing enthusiasm filled her voice. "The fairy princess—she is real?"
"That I cannot assure you, Your Highness. However, many elderly people claim it is real. Probably she is real, walking amongst us."
"If she is, I would like to meet her, Alessandra! But I want to meet her in my pretty dress. Why am I wearing a dog coat?" Reaching her hands out, the little princess observed her arms that were fully covered with fur—even her whole body and head were not spared as she wore a full coat with big dog ears dangling and flapping as she pranced around. The young princess donned a lovely dress, yet it was different from those typically worn by her; it resembled the attire of working-class children. It was a simple dress, but she fancied it, except for her qualms about the fur coat she was forced to wear.
"You are wearing a farce coat, my dear. A suit likened to a Maltese pup I once had. I love that sweet pea and cared for her until she returned to heaven. Little girls, like you, needed to wear this for cryptids will take you away." Alessandra explained, teasing her about the said cryptids as she raised her hands and positioned her fingers like they were claws about to get the little one.
Naturally, the little princess yelped and tried to hide behind her furry arms and then giggled at how silly they all appeared. "Oh, I despised the cryptids!" She exclaimed mischievously, skittishly changing her voice that best resembled a frog.
"And do not forget your golden cross, my dear. Pray that God's grace be with us while we are here in the forest." Alessandra added, emphasising the cross the little princess was wearing.
"Yes, yes! I learned so many prayers from Dun Gwann, Alessandra. I learned also learned many hymns from the Psalms." The princess gleefully informed that she hopped while tightening her hold on her nursemaid's hand. "I love singing inside Mama and Papa's chapel!"
Alessandra giggled at the four-year-old's innocent twaddle. "And you have such a wonderful voice, my sweet pup!"
Traversing through the thickets, enchantment embraced the two wanderers as the birds made merry with their music and the flowers danced together. Along with such bliss, the little princess began to sing, singing hymns to combat the languor. She sang the Oleander song that narrated an old chivalric tale of a plain gentleman who battled many trials, saved a damsel in distress, and lifted a curse. The ballad was notable in the kingdom that every night, as the said cryptids would stalk beneath the cloak of darkness to ambush some little children, parents would remind them about the brave gentleman—even to exclaim a known verse from the hymn to scare away the cryptids…
"He who has taken the trials of the land
And summoned from place afar,
Was a servant chosen
And heaven will never abandon.
He shall have no fear,
For God is his strength
And the sword he upheld
It is to break man's burden under the evil oath."
Loud and proud, with saccharine melody as her voice resonated, the whole forest became more vibrant and warmer, permitting the loyal nursemaid and the little princess to continue on their journey, going somewhere—to a place where another adventure awaits.
"Do tell more about the cryptids, Alessandra. Why are they here?" After the conclusion of her song, the little princess became captivated by the puddles on the ground. She began to ponder the nocturnal beings that were, according to ancient tongues, enticed children from their homes and transformed them into servants, leading them to their own magical realm.
Observing the little princess as she tried to splash into the puddle, Alessandra gently warned her and then went on to narrate the tale of Olejandru's nocturnal cryptids. "Well, Your Highness, the story is like this…
Once upon a time, when the kingdom was still a heathen land, a king ruled with sadness in his heart, knowing the uncertainty of his beloved wife, the fair and sweet queen, and her health, especially now that she was heavy with child.
It was for many moons that the pregnant queen was ill, and none of the healers could cure her. The king was desperate, calling out to their many gods as he offered many harvests just to heal his wife.
Yet, his prayers were unheard, for the queen remained bedridden and even withering with every passing day.
The king was about to surrender, wave his banner high in the heavens, and pray to have his fortune be given to his wife instead.
But when the moon was high, and souls were about to be faithless, there came a strange messenger, whom they said was someone sent by the gods themselves. He said that a glowing flower, hidden in a cave, could help the ailing queen if the king could have it.
Upon hearing this, the king was eager and immediately set out to find the cave where the glowing flower was. For days and nights, he never gave up, thinking nothing but the well-being of his beloved pregnant wife. Despite the protests from his advisers, the king pursued and never wavered in his resolve.
And with his perseverance, he and his camp finally found the cave. Hidden behind the large boulders of an unexplored mountain was the mouth of the cave where their goal rested. As the group searched further, they finally found the flower—truly, glowing as the strange messenger told them.
The bloom was enchanting—a beguiling thing that your eyes could not stray away from easily. It was an Oleander flower, the colour of blood and illuminating amidst the velvet darkness of the cave's belly. Plucked and hastily placed in a jar, the king and his men returned to the palace, where the high priest commenced a ritual—pulverising the enchanted oleander and mixed it in a concoction for the queen to drink.
Once the queen drank every drop, she fell asleep and dreamed a wonderful dream, reminiscing about when his husband was just a humble shepherd and saved her from raiders, who ambushed her while she and her maids were bathing on a nearby falls. While her hazel eyes were closed, her smile warmed the whole room that once cocooned sorrows, misery, and dispassion. Upon bestirring herself from the amorous slumber, the kingdom rejoiced and celebrated, aware of the good health that had been bestowed upon her.
Soon, the queen gave birth to a healthy baby boy, and everyone gloried even more.
However, the happiness this ancient kingdom savoured would soon turn into catastrophe, with fear and anxiety brewing in the air as the forgotten god, who slumbers inside the cave, woke up and realised that his oleander flower was no more.
Hearing from the beasts of the forest about how the king stole the flower for his queen, the god was marching to the palace where he challenged the king, telling him, "It is your hands that called death upon my flower—the flower of my wife, who was no longer dwelling in this realm, and I wish upon you misery. Oh, great king, heed this declaration of mine! Know that when night comes, souls of the decaying pantheon will come and get the land's offspring, make them into servants and never return to your abode. You will hear their cries but never to be seen, never to be comforted in your embrace!"
Since then, the whole kingdom was cursed—
Little children were quietly taken out of their parents' sight and never to return. From all the formidable losses and grievances of the bereaved family, the palace declared that children, especially from the villages, were required to wear fur coats of any beasts to confuse the cryptids that stole the children away. As for the king and queen's newborn, the palace was blessed, laced from every hither-tither with magic. The son was even blessed with a stronger magic, yet caged behind the stronghold of the palace until he was ready for the juvenile field training. Even when he gained more younger siblings, they were fortunate not to wear the fur coats, unlike their subjects.
And that is why, my dear, aside from the cross, you must also wear the fur coats to scare away those cryptids who wanted to take you to their realm."
While rubbing her wet nose with her furry arms, the little princess nodded—absorbing the tale with all innocence and heart. "I understand…"
"And before it is gone with the wind, you are no longer Princess Clothilde." The princess looked up at her, marked with a wonderment across her beautiful face. "Now, you are someone from the lower ranks—a daughter of one of the kitchen servants who is momentarily under my care, for your mother is still learning the vastness of the palace kitchen. You will also be called Clowee."
"But I am Clowee!" The princess jovially chided. "You always call me, Clowee."
"You are my Clowee!" Alessandra reassured her as she spiritedly raised her to the sky and locked the little one in her embrace before carrying her. "You will be forever my Clowee. It is just that your father asked not to reveal who you are to everyone in the village. You must not tell a single soul you are the princess. Instead, tell them you are Clowee, the kitchen servant's daughter. Do you understand, my little sinjorina?"
"Iva, sinjura! My name is Clowee, not a princess." Princess Clothilde declared with pride, chortling at such a jest, the adventure beheld her.
Happily cradled in Alessandra's tight arms, Princess Clothilde rested and savoured the rest of their hike, taking into heart the beauty of the flowers, the friendly critters that stopped to look at them, the birds' serenade, and how the breeze continued to kiss her until her golden-brown eyes clouded with wishful thinking before drifting off to Hypnos's lair of wonders.