In the highest Mountains of Vaas plains, there is a golden Temple, that houses the Dominions and Thrones of God. Angels, that are placed upon earth, to ensure that the servants of God are watched over, cared for as they are God’s children. It is where King Henry came from, all those years before, as a young Throne. But he came to love the people so greatly, he would be appointed King, and leave the Temple of Thrones, where his brothers and sisters of the Wing, worried, what this closeness to the flock, would do to him over time. King Henry had then fallen madly in love with Metia, and this would be his undoing.
But now, high in the clouds, the King soared upon open wings of brilliant white, returning to his true home. For many days, he had stood at the balcony, looking not only over the land that he served, but up to the Temple, with its glistening columns standing out against the green of the mountain side. Finally circling around the building’s structure, his shadow was seen by those that tended to the garden’s around the Temple entrance.
“Ira…we have a visitor. Rashna cried, her wings on full display, though folded behind her back. She wore a long white dress, similar to that of a silken roman gown. Her golden locks were tied into long plaits, that draped over her shoulder. Ira, who had been inside the Temple, writing on a large open book, placed down his feather quill, and pushed himself to standing. Orion, also heard Rashna, and exited the Temple to see for himself, who had flown over head. “Few are so bold to come this high.”Orion said, his twin walking out slowly, his piercing blue eyes gazing up at the winged creature. “If I didn’t know better, a Shepard has returned.” Rashna looked at Ira with a curious expression. “No…he couldn’t have just left them.”
Sure enough, the winged Angel swooped down, wearing only the golden pants that were of his kingly clothes. Closing his wings, as he met up with his brother and sister, you could see he had aged, and that was unheard of for one of their kind.
“Henry, my Brother. What brings you to the Temple of Thrones? And…where are your clothes?” Ira asked, who though happy to see him, was startled by his appearance.
Henry walked up to his brother Orion, who had never approved of Henry’s desire to serve the people of Vaas Plains. Orion unfurled his wing and took out his Angel sword, holding towards Henry’s neck. “Don’t think I am just going to let you walk in here, after the way you left us.” Henry held his place, the point of the blade pointed at his neck. He had a dullness in his eyes, and his skin was sickly pale.
“Either finish me…or let me pass, Orion. I am unarmed.” At this, Rashna came between them and she placed her fingers upon Orion’s blade, lowering it. “Can you not see he is sick, Brother? Let me take him.” Orion inhaled sharply, and then spun on his heel, leaving Rashna to care for Henry. With large blue eyes, she took Henry’s hand.
“You will come with me, and I shall tend to you. I have many questions as why you have returned to us. Questions, Brother, you will answer.”
Henry did not put up a fight to his sister, but simply followed her lead into the Temple.
Rashna led Henry into a secluded part of the temple, where there was a Grecian bath, and fountain. The room was filled with the steam of tepid waters, and the female Throne gestured for Henry to sit upon a marble bench. Sighing, he did as he was asked, though he was leaving a trail of white feathers behind him, his facial expression hard to read beneath the beard and his wild blonde locks. His body was marked with red scratches and welts, but also extremely pale in colour. The blue hue of his eyes was diminished. Clearly, he was sick.
Rashna picked up a jug of water, and brought it over to the table nearest to the bench. Silently, she gathered up instruments and bandages, oils and ointments. Her own white wings were held in behind her, and she walked as though she was gliding along the floor, almost hovering. Rashna cast a critical eye over her brother’s state, and frowned with disappointment.
“I have to admit, I never thought I would see you like this.” Rashna said softly, tutting as she placed a cloth into a basin, and poured the water over it, wetting it through. “Am I that unappealing to you, Sister? You don’t have to waste your pity on me.” Henry still spoke with that same tone he used, when he spoke to Metia, right before he left. Clearly he had a black mark on his heart, and was blind to other’s emotions or concern. This change in his demeanor, coupled with his appearance, only had her more curious. “They never did say that love would be easy, Henry. Nor marriage come to think of it. Does Metia know you are here? Rashna inquired, knowing Metia from the wedding day, the last time she saw her brother. At this, Henry looked away from his Sister, and refused to speak. That was when the penny dropped for Rashna, and she sighed, as she started to cleanse his torso, which stung. All he could do was grit his teeth, while Rashna made clear that she figured out the issue. “You thought running here would solve the pain in your life? Brother, you know better than anyone that running from your problems does nothing to heal them.
At this…the King stared up at his sister, the hurt welling in his eyes. “She doesn’t love me, Rashna. I have a daughter that can’t even look at me, another off married to a demon, who…has not let me see my own grandchild…and a Son, that I am more than certain is set to take the crown the minute I die. Henry let it all out in a blurt, and this actually had Rashna surprised. “The greatest gift you will ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return.” It was Rashna’s philosophy, but this only brought more sadness from the King. “Then that gift eludes me.” Rashna shrugged, and combed her fingers through his golden locks, seeing the need for him to have his hair cut back. “Sounds to me, like you have fallen into the well of depression, that even if they did love you back, you wouldn’t know.”
She was probably right.
“Large helping for me, Estelle.” Godfrey chortled, grabbing a wooden bowl and thrusting it in her direction. She wrinkled up her nose and said. “His lordship before you, you greedy Godfrey.” She smacked his hand with her ladle, and Thomas laughed. “Never argue with the one holding the Ladle of power.” Reginald took a seat beside Sir Wayne, who was packing his pipe with tobacco. Reginald had some news, and thought it be best to share it with Sir Wayne. “Remember that white haired lass…the one at the tournament. Giving you the eye and all that.” Reginald said, taking an offered bowl of stew from Estelle. Sir Wayne raised a brow and then as he puffed his pipe, he nodded in acknowledgement. “Aye…what of her?” Reginald was blowing the steam of his stew, when he said. “They say she is wasting away in the dungeons. Unfaithful…treacherous…hard to believe someone that looked so pure, could be evil.” This was stated matter of factly, and Wayne found it hard to believe. She had never wronged him, aside from making him wait for her to go on that journey, which was years ago now. “Does she take visitors? Family?” Wayne asked, now curious of this woman’s fate. Reginald shrugged, taking a mouthful of stew. Chewing twice he said. “Rumor is…she speaks to no one, just…stares at the wall. Pity, why leave someone to rot in a hole…away from the light. I thought we were angels…not barbarians.” Reginald had a point, and this had Wayne stand. “Where you going, Sir?” Reginald asked, wondering if he had said something out of turn.
“To bring light to a fallen…” And with that, he started a walk back up to the main castle, and to visit…Calypso.
Many of those on the training field just continued their practise, the smell in the air of good food cooking, the laughter from the children of the squires, and the clash of steel from anvils where the blacksmiths plied their trade would be a welcome to anyone that had been locked away for so long. The sunlight filtered gently down through the canopy, and as Sir Wayne came up to his tent area, his squire Godfrey came out and looked perplexed.
“Where’d ya find her?” He asked wiping his hands, and moving forward to assist Sir Wayne in getting her off the horse. Estelle came out from washing around the back and also looked surprised. The woman was in terrible shape. “Take her in the tent, I will get clean water and have her comfortable. Is she hungry?” Estelle was filled with compassion, and even the other hand maidens were peeking from the tents, to see the newest arrival. Sir Wayne instead carried her himself, into the tent, and laid her down gently upon the fur cushions, trying to get her comfortable. “Rest…and our care is what she needs. Anything she asks for…she gets, understood?” All were in agreeance, looking down at her with concern.
Sir Reginald had seen Sir Wayne return with the prisoner, and he had to admit he was shocked. Approaching the Knight, he nodded politely, then gestured with his head. “When I spoke of the woman, I never would have guessed you would…bring her back. Surely the King will have words on releasing such a woman into the arms of an unsuspecting public.” Sir Wayne considered this, and replied “It is here, or in a hole in the ground. She was but days from death. I could not simply let anyone die in such an undignified manner. No matter what this woman has done, I believe her penance has been paid.” Sir Reginald frowned somewhat, not sure if that was in Sir Wayne’s jurisdiction, to make such an important move, to have her taken from her cell, to be treated.“Then I hope that this respite does what you hope it will, Sir Wayne.”
“So do I, my good friend. So do I.”
But if there was much more of this fussing over her, she might not get a choice in the matter.
Estelle approached Sir Wayne and whispered.
“The maiden is sitting up, M’lord, and she will not rest. Do come.” Estelle asked, and the Knight followed her into the tent. Crouching down beside her, the Knight asked. “You really should be resting, its how your body will recover.” He looked her over then stared into her eyes. “Are you hungry? Or would you like us to have Estelle bathe you.” He was doing his best to be accommodating.
Maybe her real wits weren’t quite about her yet.
“Without the soul we are but nothing, we cannot exist. I think you are meaning that you are without heart. I know myself what that is like, having gone many years without one. But, time and faith does heal a broken heart.” He said optimistically. Perhaps those wasted years, she had lost more than just her purpose, and their had to be more to this. She considered herself unworthy, and that if she wished to bathe, she simply would. Such a hard shell she had built up. Fiercely independent and yet she just could not see, that others were willing to offer their time selflessly.
Sir Wayne sat down beside her, and decided to probe deeper into her mind, to see if he could unlock her secrets. “If there was one thing, on this earth that I could bring you, that you would wish for, what would that be?’ He wanted to know, what it was that would mend her heart.