Legends

Most people have their own folktales. Some have their legends of old, and some have their own made-up beliefs. Fairies, mermaids, horses that talk, toys that come to life, sheep that are wise, demons that punish, princesses that enchant.

Those legends speak of those hiding in the dark, in the deep of the sea, soaring in the skies, gliding with the light and lurking in the shadows. Our folktale is well…unlike most. It teaches not only us, but youngsters - the bearers of tomorrow, and adults - the witnesses of yesterday - the true virtues. Deadly sins, unforgivable ones, are made into legends that come creeping in on moonless nights, to take revenge.

The difference of our folktales are that they are true. They took place before time had a name, and in places that are far from everywhere. Our homeland is cut off from the rest of the world. Not on the maps and invisible on the planet, but one of the few of its kinds that exist. Early humans of our nation had magic – sorcery and charms. But amongst them, all were ‘assigned’ a plant at birth. It was a pale blue, indicating the skies. If something good was to happen to one, then the flower would turn a vibrant pink. If, unfortunately, fate had other plans for one, then the plant would turn red. It was amazing. The times, the fun, the memories, the stories, the travels…But there was one ugly, sinister truth.

If one’s flower withers, they die. It was the only thing that wasn’t controlled by fate. If your plant dries, or is damaged, or anything – just anything causes it to break or wither, then it’s immediate death for that person.

Long ago, a capital of our nation called ‘Caelum’ was administrated by the Great Honor, Yoldok. He had all the riches one needs or wants. All the food to end world hunger, and thousands of remarkable architecture around the city. He was elected because his flower was always blue; since his birth to this day, his plant had remained blue or pink, but never red. An adequate amount of time earlier, he had vowed to ‘Take care of all who are under him.’ His plant was tucked safely away in the ‘veiled corner’ of his room, heavily guarded with dogs and Guards. The veiled corner is the most ominous and menacing room in the entire palace, with booby traps and evil elves that dedicate their lives to guard the plant. Not one ray of light managed to get in there.

One day, when the rose-pink sky turned to a greyish black and started pouring, Yoldok was sitting in the most gorgeous veranda of all. One of his greatest errors was that he was proud. So proud that it stank. He was the most conceited and self-absorbed creature that ever roamed young Earth. So on that eventful day, as he sipped his tea – or his special ‘gold concoction’ – a bloodcurling shriek silenced the entire palace. He sprinted upstairs to see his bedsheets smeared in blood as a lifeless body lay on it. A terrorized maid stood in the corner, all white and trembling.

“H – he – he’s dead!” she breathed. “Oh, lord! I walked in to clean your room, My Majesty, but then the wicked elves threw this man out of the veiled corner!” The maid fainted. Honeslty, it wasn’t the most adorned scene you’d ever see. The man’s hair was messy, and his eyes had nails pierced in them. His front was bleeding severely as he lay there limply. That implied a sense of insecurity and doubt in Yoldok.

Later that night, Yoldok suddenly called his most trusted servant, and told him to prepare a hundred-storey palace.

“You see, Torendo,” he sighed. “I feel that more people will try to attempt to steal my plant. I want it to be in the safest place! Because I am the best. The best there ever was – the world needs me! If I die, then you’ll see – the world will go up in flames and freeze to death. I need the palace to have a lush garden, with the largest gates ever. Gold fountains and marble benches along with roses should be the least decoration. Then, every room must have a lock and security system. There should be two hundred pantries so I can satisfy my appetite. But the palace should not be built here. It should be in the most hidden corners of this city. Also, a superb and marvellous ruler like me should have his commands fulfilled in five days. Go now!” he dismissed a troubled Torendo.

At 1 in the night, a huge construction team went away into the woods, and didn’t return until the night of day four. By that time, Yoldok had been boasting about his new palace to all the kings of the neighbouring countries.

At day five, finally, Yoldok packed his suitcases (or rather the servants did) and set off for his journey on his specific white horse and flowery carriage. He enclosed his plant in a glass case with humid and perfect condition. It was watered and looked after every hour later or so.

“Sir,” Torendo hesitated. “I think that-”

“No Torendo!” Yoldok smirked. “I know everything, stupid servant. I don’t need your advice.”

“But sir, your-“

“No! Take him away!” Yoldok screamed, and his demand was done.

It was 7 in the morning when they left, and 6 in the evening when they arrived. Yoldok clutched at his plant-case and stepped off.

“The world will be witness of this!” he showed off. “The king of kings and magicians of the best kind will be dumbfounded at my excellence! I am certainly the best and most powerful and surely capable of anything. I make my own fate, not anyone else. I will show all the little people who thought that I was just a king that I am not a king, but a godly figure on this tiny, forlorn planet!”

He was seven steps away from the palace entry. His heart beat faster than anytime else, but his heart kept bragging on and on, saying things one shouldn’t. Six…Five…Four…Three-

Suddenly, and most unexpectedly, the case slipped involuntarily from his hand and shattered. The plant was destroyed in a fraction of a second, and there he was. The pompous king who couldn’t even step into his ‘own palace’. Torendo smiled as he remembered that he tried to tell Yoldok that his plant was dark red during travel.

Legends speak of him cruelly and filled of disgust up to this day.