Once, there was a girl.
She loved her kingdom with all her heart. Her parents had ruled it, and she was expected to rule it. And she did, at first.
Except the young, newly crowned queen met a boy.
With a handsome smile, he won her heart and her kingdom’s right along with it. Except, when he started to leach her power, she could do nothing to stop him, for he had turned the kingdom against her with his quick lies.
The queen decided that all she could do to keep her people’s love was to marry the boy.
And so it became that she, the queen, was ignored. Surplus. The people did not appreciate her attempts at diplomacy. Eventually, she was barely a queen at all, just a girl, the hated armpiece of the king.
She sobbed and prayed. She loved her kingdom. She wanted it back, wanted to help it.
The girl saw no choices left for her. She could not save her kingdom from the corrupt king. She could not save her people.
She was useless.
In frustration, in desperation, she stood upon the stone bridge of the moat that kept her cut off from the world.
And she jumped.
Once, there was a boy.
He loved the kingdom he lived in, and he loved its rulers. One day, after the old monarchs had passed, the boy met the new queen.
The frivolous, delusional queen, who believed she was the answer to the kingdom, who believed she was loved.
But love and fear and hate are very similar things indeed.
The boy saw no other choice if he wanted to save the kingdom from this thoughtless ruler. He grinned and laughed and eventually, he married the queen.
And she was so unhappy. She wailed and cried, claiming he’d stolen her kingdom, that he was a liar, that he had turned the kingdom against her.
The king ignored her. The kingdom had never liked her, but they liked him. He could help them. Change things. Make everything better, different from how it had been under the queen’s corrupt rule.
He saw her, one day, in tears, standing atop the moat bridge.
Hopeless. Utterly alone.
For a moment, the boy wondered if he’d misunderstood her.
Then she jumped.
Once, there was a raven.
A very old raven, who loved his kingdom. He had lived there for centuries, millennia perhaps. He had seen kingdoms rise and fall. Wars fought. Hearts break.
And he watched this new story unfold, different, but the same as all the others.
Just a great misunderstanding. A lapse in communication. A mistake.
The people of the kingdom were restless under the same ruling family, but they adored their young princess.
But then there was a coronation for a girl too young.
A boy like the people who made promises of a better future.
A girl who didn’t understand why she’d lost so much love.
A boy who ignored her counsel, believing her to be foolish.
A girl who believed she could only help her kingdom by leaving this world.
A boy who realized his mistake too late.
The raven saw it all. He saw what would come to be: blood and tears staining the stones of a fallen kingdom.
He ached with pity for this species, which made the same error again and again. Which chose impulsive actions and ignorance when they needed communication. The raven wished he could help them understand, help them see.
But they would have to learn on their own.
Once, there was a girl and a boy.
They did not know what was to come. They did not know that the kingdom they loved so dearly would fall, all because they saw no way to work together, to see the world from a new perspective.
The boy stood and watched the girl fall through the air. He was helpless. She was helpless. He ran to her side, pulled her from the water, but it was too late.
They looked at each other as the light and warmth left her body.
Even then, there were no words said between them.
Far above, a raven cawed, its black feathers silhouetted against the sun.
