Once upon a time, in the pages of history, lived a fairytale, told and retold, lived and relived, for eras and eternity. A story of love, bravery and sacrifice. Just like all the other fairytales you grew up reading. Now, shall we begin?
Across the hills that protected the land of the Sun, from enemies and the desert wind alike, was the kingdom of the proud warriors and the bravest of women. The children played with swords and dreamt of becoming just as brave as their forefathers, serving their motherland with their blood and sweat. It was a beautiful landscape. Of lush greenery, hills and passes, fortresses and palaces, villages and towns, forests, streams, waterfalls, and a Fort that stood right amidst the hills on a rugged plateau. The largest Fort in all the land, it was the seat of prosperity and power.
Not far from this land stood a small fortress town, and in it lived a little Girl. Born into an ordinary sheriff’s home, she was called the princess of the town for her beautiful soul. Dark, doe-eyed, her long hair swaying in a braid near her knees, Kind and gentle, shy and sweet, a dreamer from the heart, a warrior by blood, she dreamt and hoped that the world was as magical as the tales she read. Sewing and cleaning, reading and singing, she spent her days waiting. For as long as she remembered, her mother had told her stories. Stories of a brave prince on a white horse, coming to sweep her off her feet, someday. Perhaps a knight in shining armour, who would rescue her from the goons. Her friend teased that he would kiss her, too, the magic of which made her feet pop.
But finding a prince was difficult, she knew. Love wasn't for everyone, her mother had told her. She remembered her mother saying, “Always be kind and gentle, my child, humble like the tree is to its roots, for once uprooted, the tree loses its life. And human beings, their humanity. Love is not easy to find. It is not easy to keep. Only a truly pure heart that cared for everyone deserved it. For love itself is rare and special, just like how magic is meant to be.” Often in the loneliness of the silent night, she wondered if she deserved the magic of Love. The magic that made souls immortal, as everyone believed. A dream in their heart, she kept a long secret, which grew to be her purpose and hope.
On one dark night, when the stars veiled the sky, the moon beamed on the snowy white skin of the bravest steed on the land, the one who was more loyal than dogs, let alone men. He had a golden mane that waved in the breeze, ears pointy and pink, raised in alertness, eyes sparkling like marbles, and a blonde tail swaying as he rested on the bank of an unknown lake in the deepest part of the forest. The bravest of the brave, the one who could swing his swords in both hands and live to protect his motherland, was his master. Tall and handsomely scarred with the rewards of being a warrior, his eyes brown and proud, shoulders broad and tough, intelligent in his words, and humble in his manners, he was the young Prince of the land, the heir to the throne., Looking for his purpose in life, perhaps a little lost between the head and the heart, he had chosen to explore his motherland with his steed, away from the luxury of palace life. Little did he know that not far from the water of the lake stood a small town, and in it lived the Girl, almost his age. Little did she know that, weary from his travels, the Prince had sought shelter in her home, humbly seeking warmth and food, and perhaps a bed, like a commoner in distress. Days had passed by as quick as the sand slipping off their hand. The Prince had befriended the Girl. Gathering his courage he asked her name, for unique as she was, the only girl who made his warrior soul smile at a nature quiet opposite to his, he knew not what was it about her, that made him feel, it was not only now, not at this day or moment, he had known her for years; decades and eras perhaps or an eternity beyond that. He had seen her talk to old people like she was their daughter and to the poorest beggar like he was the richest man on earth. She treated everyone as equals, and with him, she shared a warm smile or two. He had lost his heart then and there; he knew not why and how. Slow and shy, she had answered his questions, wondering who this gentleman actually was. She had seen tough men, brave soldiers and kings. But none were so attentive to things beyond war or perhaps an administrative move. He was somehow different, somehow very special. Yet it never felt like the first time he had been there. The Girl had seen him watch her, notice the littlest of things. She had seen more. How he talked to his horse like an old playmate; remembered his mother, or shone his sword like a living dream. How he rode across the land, talked to people about their problems, and set his priorities right and morals high. Called stubborn by others, he spoke against what she found him determined. Perhaps a dreamer just like she was. Dreams of serving people lit up his eyes like a thousand burning lamps. One night, below the stars, the universe stood witness to the two souls' talk. He said he could no longer hide who he was, telling her about his pedigree, full of pride, glory, and dignity, just like him. Shocked at the revelations, because the prince of her imagination was never this humble, perhaps the Girl smiled at him. She knew he was different, a humble blood amidst royalty. The bud of friendship that they had sown slowly turned into a bloom of love at that moment.
But then it was the day he knew it was time to go. Trying to gather their unsure thoughts, insecurities and more, all they said to each other was a simple goodbye rather than a profound confession of love. She found herself on the tallest tower, all by herself, heart thumping, as he rode away, leaving the dust unsettled. Another thing unsettled was her heart, and his, as he turned back one last time, to catch a glimpse of her. He'd left her in tears; she knew not why or how, but she didn't want him to leave. Love, she believed, would be magical, but where it hurt. No one ever mentioned this quality of love, did they? For the first time, the Girl realised that stories always omitted the saddest parts. She never thought in her wildest imagination that the Prince would return, just for the sake of her love. She hadn't witnessed yet the magic that made a Prince fall for her. She knew not for love he'd spoken against his own, sworn to make her his wife and leave his claim to kins. But when he came, with his steed running across the darkness into light, she did what he didn't expect her to. Or perhaps in the deepest corner of his heart, he knew.
She refused him outright. “For a true man”, she reminded him, “His purpose is to serve first, not choose his own life over everything.” He knew for sure that his choice was right; she deserved the crown of a Queen. Wars raged, battles were won, this time not with the sword and blood, and he now knew what love truly was. For in her prayers and gentle care, her reminders of his duty and the righteous and sometimes her courage to challenge his decisions with her thoughts, she stood by him against all odds. Sweeping her off on his white horse, the fireflies danced at their monsoon wedding, and the kingdom celebrated in joy.
Now a King, braver than before for love made him stronger, he fought wars with his sword and steed fearlessly with every enemy of the land. The people saw him as a protective father to his children. Across the land, in the castle with his heir nurturing in her arms, she hoped to see him once more. Queen she was, of his heart, and more to his people, side by side always together, their love triumphed all evil. Then one day, it so happened that the evil grew stronger. An Evil King from a distant land ousted him from his fort. Leaving the palace and all the luxury, the King was forced to choose a life of discomfort. The forest was now home, the endless horizon a roof, the caves their umbrellas for the rain, and there was a scarcity of food. The King was determined for his people that he needed to fight on, even if he lost everything or everyone. Little did he know what winning would cost, the hunger of his child or the loss of his heart. After losing the life of his favourite steed, who tried to save him, he won over the Evil King to reclaim his kingdom.
But happiness was not to last long. Tired from a life full of battles, bruises and hunger, which she faced bravely, smiling through her pain, for him and his people, the Queen was taken ill. No matter how hard he tried, her health was deteriorating. She passed away in grace, the Queen of his heart. Living her life for him, giving him her strength, she had made him a rebel in love. He was a broken man, yet he remembered her dream. He conquered the evil, and then it seemed... Everything was meaningless, the power and the wealth. Morals and health. Without her love, life was at a standstill. For her love was all he needed for his heart to be the rebel, its will to live and conquer. He left his kingdom orphaned, remembering her in his last breath. He could finally reunite with her for another eternity, perhaps another story in heaven. Shining brighter than the other stars each night, they blessed their kingdom and son, perhaps us too, as we read their story.
Now, where was the happily ever after, you wonder? The forever in this fairytale, perhaps? Why didn’t I stop at their monsoon wedding? Or an heir perhaps? Because life doesn’t stop there, nor do our stories. Neither did theirs. Yet I say, they had their fairytale. Why? Because if this journey was not greater than forever, no Love would perhaps ever be. The King and the Queen and their Love remained immortal in their stories. And that’s how fate blessed their love, decades after they were gone. They made us believe that dreamers are special and that dreams need sacrifices. And one day, when we all leave the earth, we take not our wealth or power, nor what we possess or wear. What we take along is grace and dignity, morals and pride, knowledge and goodness, which they had in plenty. Along with true love. Rare. Precious. Just like magic. From the hearts that always believed. In everything hopeful. And stories.
Across the hills that protected the land of the Sun, from enemies and the desert wind alike, was the kingdom of the proud warriors and the bravest of women. The children played with swords and dreamt of becoming just as brave as their forefathers, serving their motherland with their blood and sweat. It was a beautiful landscape. Of lush greenery, hills and passes, fortresses and palaces, villages and towns, forests, streams, waterfalls, and a Fort that stood right amidst the hills on a rugged plateau. The largest Fort in all the land, it was the seat of prosperity and power.
Not far from this land stood a small fortress town, and in it lived a little Girl. Born into an ordinary sheriff’s home, she was called the princess of the town for her beautiful soul. Dark, doe-eyed, her long hair swaying in a braid near her knees, Kind and gentle, shy and sweet, a dreamer from the heart, a warrior by blood, she dreamt and hoped that the world was as magical as the tales she read. Sewing and cleaning, reading and singing, she spent her days waiting. For as long as she remembered, her mother had told her stories. Stories of a brave prince on a white horse, coming to sweep her off her feet, someday. Perhaps a knight in shining armour, who would rescue her from the goons. Her friend teased that he would kiss her, too, the magic of which made her feet pop.
But finding a prince was difficult, she knew. Love wasn't for everyone, her mother had told her. She remembered her mother saying, “Always be kind and gentle, my child, humble like the tree is to its roots, for once uprooted, the tree loses its life. And human beings, their humanity. Love is not easy to find. It is not easy to keep. Only a truly pure heart that cared for everyone deserved it. For love itself is rare and special, just like how magic is meant to be.” Often in the loneliness of the silent night, she wondered if she deserved the magic of Love. The magic that made souls immortal, as everyone believed. A dream in their heart, she kept a long secret, which grew to be her purpose and hope.
On one dark night, when the stars veiled the sky, the moon beamed on the snowy white skin of the bravest steed on the land, the one who was more loyal than dogs, let alone men. He had a golden mane that waved in the breeze, ears pointy and pink, raised in alertness, eyes sparkling like marbles, and a blonde tail swaying as he rested on the bank of an unknown lake in the deepest part of the forest. The bravest of the brave, the one who could swing his swords in both hands and live to protect his motherland, was his master. Tall and handsomely scarred with the rewards of being a warrior, his eyes brown and proud, shoulders broad and tough, intelligent in his words, and humble in his manners, he was the young Prince of the land, the heir to the throne., Looking for his purpose in life, perhaps a little lost between the head and the heart, he had chosen to explore his motherland with his steed, away from the luxury of palace life. Little did he know that not far from the water of the lake stood a small town, and in it lived the Girl, almost his age. Little did she know that, weary from his travels, the Prince had sought shelter in her home, humbly seeking warmth and food, and perhaps a bed, like a commoner in distress. Days had passed by as quick as the sand slipping off their hand. The Prince had befriended the Girl. Gathering his courage he asked her name, for unique as she was, the only girl who made his warrior soul smile at a nature quiet opposite to his, he knew not what was it about her, that made him feel, it was not only now, not at this day or moment, he had known her for years; decades and eras perhaps or an eternity beyond that. He had seen her talk to old people like she was their daughter and to the poorest beggar like he was the richest man on earth. She treated everyone as equals, and with him, she shared a warm smile or two. He had lost his heart then and there; he knew not why and how. Slow and shy, she had answered his questions, wondering who this gentleman actually was. She had seen tough men, brave soldiers and kings. But none were so attentive to things beyond war or perhaps an administrative move. He was somehow different, somehow very special. Yet it never felt like the first time he had been there. The Girl had seen him watch her, notice the littlest of things. She had seen more. How he talked to his horse like an old playmate; remembered his mother, or shone his sword like a living dream. How he rode across the land, talked to people about their problems, and set his priorities right and morals high. Called stubborn by others, he spoke against what she found him determined. Perhaps a dreamer just like she was. Dreams of serving people lit up his eyes like a thousand burning lamps. One night, below the stars, the universe stood witness to the two souls' talk. He said he could no longer hide who he was, telling her about his pedigree, full of pride, glory, and dignity, just like him. Shocked at the revelations, because the prince of her imagination was never this humble, perhaps the Girl smiled at him. She knew he was different, a humble blood amidst royalty. The bud of friendship that they had sown slowly turned into a bloom of love at that moment.
But then it was the day he knew it was time to go. Trying to gather their unsure thoughts, insecurities and more, all they said to each other was a simple goodbye rather than a profound confession of love. She found herself on the tallest tower, all by herself, heart thumping, as he rode away, leaving the dust unsettled. Another thing unsettled was her heart, and his, as he turned back one last time, to catch a glimpse of her. He'd left her in tears; she knew not why or how, but she didn't want him to leave. Love, she believed, would be magical, but where it hurt. No one ever mentioned this quality of love, did they? For the first time, the Girl realised that stories always omitted the saddest parts. She never thought in her wildest imagination that the Prince would return, just for the sake of her love. She hadn't witnessed yet the magic that made a Prince fall for her. She knew not for love he'd spoken against his own, sworn to make her his wife and leave his claim to kins. But when he came, with his steed running across the darkness into light, she did what he didn't expect her to. Or perhaps in the deepest corner of his heart, he knew.
She refused him outright. “For a true man”, she reminded him, “His purpose is to serve first, not choose his own life over everything.” He knew for sure that his choice was right; she deserved the crown of a Queen. Wars raged, battles were won, this time not with the sword and blood, and he now knew what love truly was. For in her prayers and gentle care, her reminders of his duty and the righteous and sometimes her courage to challenge his decisions with her thoughts, she stood by him against all odds. Sweeping her off on his white horse, the fireflies danced at their monsoon wedding, and the kingdom celebrated in joy.
Now a King, braver than before for love made him stronger, he fought wars with his sword and steed fearlessly with every enemy of the land. The people saw him as a protective father to his children. Across the land, in the castle with his heir nurturing in her arms, she hoped to see him once more. Queen she was, of his heart, and more to his people, side by side always together, their love triumphed all evil. Then one day, it so happened that the evil grew stronger. An Evil King from a distant land ousted him from his fort. Leaving the palace and all the luxury, the King was forced to choose a life of discomfort. The forest was now home, the endless horizon a roof, the caves their umbrellas for the rain, and there was a scarcity of food. The King was determined for his people that he needed to fight on, even if he lost everything or everyone. Little did he know what winning would cost, the hunger of his child or the loss of his heart. After losing the life of his favourite steed, who tried to save him, he won over the Evil King to reclaim his kingdom.
But happiness was not to last long. Tired from a life full of battles, bruises and hunger, which she faced bravely, smiling through her pain, for him and his people, the Queen was taken ill. No matter how hard he tried, her health was deteriorating. She passed away in grace, the Queen of his heart. Living her life for him, giving him her strength, she had made him a rebel in love. He was a broken man, yet he remembered her dream. He conquered the evil, and then it seemed... Everything was meaningless, the power and the wealth. Morals and health. Without her love, life was at a standstill. For her love was all he needed for his heart to be the rebel, its will to live and conquer. He left his kingdom orphaned, remembering her in his last breath. He could finally reunite with her for another eternity, perhaps another story in heaven. Shining brighter than the other stars each night, they blessed their kingdom and son, perhaps us too, as we read their story.
Now, where was the happily ever after, you wonder? The forever in this fairytale, perhaps? Why didn’t I stop at their monsoon wedding? Or an heir perhaps? Because life doesn’t stop there, nor do our stories. Neither did theirs. Yet I say, they had their fairytale. Why? Because if this journey was not greater than forever, no Love would perhaps ever be. The King and the Queen and their Love remained immortal in their stories. And that’s how fate blessed their love, decades after they were gone. They made us believe that dreamers are special and that dreams need sacrifices. And one day, when we all leave the earth, we take not our wealth or power, nor what we possess or wear. What we take along is grace and dignity, morals and pride, knowledge and goodness, which they had in plenty. Along with true love. Rare. Precious. Just like magic. From the hearts that always believed. In everything hopeful. And stories.
