Opus 0, No. 3
(Third Episode of An Ancient Story)
A year and three days came between the day of the meeting between the two souls and the meeting of a new heir to his kingdom. My, it was a grandiose day. All the people of Innisfawn were dedicated to outdoing his neighbor in showing his joy of the royal birth. Each house was decorated with wreaths of white and the fences had the grass, weeds, and vines trimmed around them for the first time since the birth of Queen Rowena. The towns had banners and bands, parties and primroses. The celebration for the new prince was so great that an outsider would have thought that a war had been won. The foolish stranger would've been laughed at before being informed that a royal birth was greater than any victory over any country. Especially if it was a boy.
As tradition called for, an Amariln stone was brought forth and place on the child's forehead. Immediately, the deep green of the stone was washed over by a substance that had all the appearances of a mellow orange liquid. This proved that the babe was a true descendant of the Búnaithor (reference 1) bloodline and heir to the throne. Soon after, the queen made the announcement that the prince would be named "Adalwain." And just as soon, if not sooner, the midwives started off with their "I imagine's" and "I tell ye"s on what the boy's mighty future would be. The people themselves weren't to be outdone by these good women, and soon the entire kingdom of Innisfawn was thriving with premonitions and prophecies of the great deeds expected from the small infant. But, thinking back through the ages, this was done for the birth of every child since the days of Búnaithor himself. Even I, for all my extensive knowledge of this land, cannot explain what fever it was that brought these Innisfawn such generous amounts of gladness compared to any other glorious event. But excuses are not needed in the least, for the Búnaithor bloodline must've been as old as Innisfawn itself and the people had always remembered joyous times of peace under Búnaithor (at least through stories and prose) and his kin. Peasant families and lords had always looked to Búnaithor's descendants to judge among them in heavy disputes. And so, a royal birth ensured a wise ruler and has always been a symbol of hope to Innisfawn.
After a month, Adalwain was already slightly inclined to resemble his mother's features more than his father's. His eyes were akin to those of a doe, dyed in a blue as dark as the dividing waters of Delore. His golden brown locks already formed a crown of curls around his forehead. But his father's resemblance was harder to perceive at such an infant age. However, if you had observed closely, you would have seen that Adalwain would inherit his father's height and strength. I even imagined that his jaw would be square and firm, set with determination as Aodhfin's was.
Marah had heard many things about the newborn Búnaithor heir from her mother, brothers, nurse, father, and even Gabe. It seemed that everyone in the castle had seen this royal infant except for her.
It also seemed that the more she heard of Adalwain, the more she felt that she should also be privileged to gaze on his golden locks and Delore-blue eyes. For weeks, this became her sole agenda. Lady Aylward and the nurse would hear all about it in her broken gibberish. Gabe listened patiently to her plots to invade the prince's nursery simply to sneak a glance. At the end of every plot of hers, he would laugh (I can't think of any reason why. Marah thought it strange also) until one day he suggested that maybe she should ask her father first before breaking into the nursery. If Kirkby didn't consent, Gabe would "throw inna hand to aid his littl'lassie."
That very night, Marah asked her father, "Fathoh, can I go see da pwince?" With a thoughtful smirk, Kirkby agreed to take his little firelily, but on one condition: "That ye cause yer mother no wairry fer a whole week." Marah squealed before attacking her father with violent hugs.
"Aye, that's me girl. But mind," his countenance turned sober and he eyed her strictly. "If yer mother makes one single complaint concerning yer behavior, ye hear, ye'll be finding yer own resources to visit the prince. Understood?" Marah nodded solemnly. "That's my girl. Now stay in bed and slaep tight, my firelily."
Reference 1: Búnaithor was the first king to rule Innisfawn. His rule also marked the first year for the Innisfawn. The years all count back to the day when he built the first city, Bánath. He was a wise ruler who accomplished many great deeds that had twice as many legends written about them.
Now we must wonder if Marah is capable of civil behavior for a week. It's not like she tries to be bad, but sometimes her imagination takes her away. Come back on Feb. 12th to find out!
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