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The Flower Village
Author: Sher Reev
last update2022-10-11 15:20:38

"A time of fear! A time of horror!

The one in red, the one of colour

He seeks our bows and longs our lord

He deems our souls and wants our blood"

The songs of the moon were first heard in Vaile before they found their path across the little waters to the highlands of Meredith, the rainbushes of Hailey, and the plains of Hayden to be sung by maidens and be heard by the young Saes.

To be taught by traders and be learnt by children. The verses grew in length with every person who recited them, and new words came into its lines everday.

Indeed, it was a dynamic work of literature with no soul having a right to its originality.

While its lines sang in the markets at the time of the moon, the primelord waited patiently in Meredith, coveting his thoughts. The four kings debated days long on the right course of action, along with the wizards of the reach, the witchmother from the isle and other men of magic, while the crowned prince rode eagerly to Maeve.

Prince Daerys and his men rode continuously for days to the village where the burning flame first appeared. Altogether, they were fifteen in number and each man rode on his own horse.

They rode through the thick forests and the rough roads. They soon got to the hills that looked over the legendary plains of blood. There they stopped and rested.

On those hills, one could see the whole of the plains, and the lands after them. The prince decided to take a view.

The plains were truly of blood as named by history. Their appearance alone had the name written all over. Myriads of blood pools were scattered within those plains, like the skies had just rained on them with blood.

"There it Is!" Announced Daerys, "The battle ground where my ancestor fought against the red king. It is true what they say, the plains still hold the blood of the men who died on that day. It is almost as if the battle has just taken place."

The other men came to join him at the edge where he stood, and they could all see the plains from there. Even from that distance, the horror of the bloodbath that had taken place there many years ago could still be felt.

"Is it true that wizards fought and died on those plains?" One of the men asked. He was Percival, the brother of Smaragdus, and he was the youngest among them. Receiving no reply, he continued, "Then why do we resent them when they had fought for us?"

Smaragdus tried to make an explanation, "These plains do not belong to us. Just like the old palace seperate us from Vale, they seperate our Meredith from Hailey".

"Ohhh!!" The boy learnt, "but did they not fight.." He was interrupted by the fierce glance of caution he received from Smaragdus.

The prince said not a word, he moved away from the others towards the direction of the mountains behind Maeve. "We shall be in Maeve before the sun sets two days from now. Get some sleep men, unless you fear that the spirits of the dead wizards will attack you in your sleep".

Did the prince say that because he was angry? Or he wished to indulge humour among his men in the place of the little tension that had taken hold of their fold at that moment?

Whatever the case, the fear of men who died ages ago sounded quite a joke to his men and they laughed among themselves. "Even if their spirits would scream my name till daybreak, I shall still dream of my momma's bakes." One of them said.

And sleep they all did, around the fire they made for the wild beast they caught, except the boy Percival whom Smaragdus made to keep watch, and the Prince Daerys himself who could not ignore the questions Percival had asked earlier.

He had also been asking the same questions of his father since he was a child. Why were the wizards dangerous? Why were they treated differently in Meredith when even the great Vaile held them in admirable accord?

He remembered that when his grandfather was king, the wizards used to come to Meredith, some even lived within her walls, and her relationship with Vaile was cordial. He himself used to be good friends with the three princes of Vaile.

Crowned Prince Emhyr, Prince Willo and the youngest Vailesh prince, Zephyr.

Zephyr was his closest companion in those days. With him Daerys trained and dined and did every deed of adventure. Most of his best memories were those with Zephyr. "What is that schmo up to these days?" He wondered until he fell into the clutches of sleep.

He would not sleep for long, for morning was upon them a little while after he found sleep. The sleep the prince found, by the way, was not one which had peace. Instead, it was shrouded with nightmares for the little while that it lasted.

They continued their journey again, making towards the land that first felt the heat of the burning flame and leaving behind them, in silence, the plains that harboured the blood of warriors and sorcerers, as well as their spirits after death.

After riding for two days, they were in the village called Maeve or "The Flower Village" as it was often called.

It was a very small village with beautiful flowers almost everywhere. The people there were indeed poor and they lived on little and simple, but the beauty of their land was heavenly.

The air there smelled like constant peace that had just been adulterated with a recent evil. And its people reminded one of a pool of water which had been as still and perfect as a mirror until a dying soldier fell into its depth, destroying its stillness with big ripples, and corrupting its purity with the colours of blood and the smell of death.

The village seemed abandoned at first. Houses were empty and the paths were quiet, but as the men rode their way in deeper, distant voices could be heard. They came from the village square.

Soon they reached the place from where the voices had come and the people could be seen. They were large in number and they all gathered over a scene.

"What is this?" One of the Daerys' companions asked as they got closer.

"Something must be going on." Another replied.

The arrival of a number of horses at the same time seemed to trigger no impact at such a setting, for the people were focused on whatever it was that they all gathered over.

That apart, they still mourned the ones they lost.

The presence of the crowned prince was not felt until he and his men were directly behind the last of them.

Finally, someone noticed them. But the sudden sight of horses gave no godly impression.

"Halt! Halt!" The man screamed, "Have you come for the wizard? We shall not let you have him!" He cried, pointing at them.

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