Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, a court of angels ministered to mankind. Right here, upon the earth. A blessed outreach of heaven. We did the works of our Father, gladly, and honoured the wishes of our Mother. It was a modest kingdom, yet grand. Full of wonder and song. All sentient creatures were welcome in the court, having their part to play. All bowed before love, as all were royalty in their way. But darkness can come to any favoured land, as both mortals and immortals soon learned. Fires, and wars. A nightmarish falling from grace. But Kasi didn't come here today to speak of that darkness. No, instead I come to speak of those brave ones who upheld what remained of the kingdom. Those cherished keepers of keys and mirrors and gates.
Melodies, harmonies and heart-light. Those honourable warriors who kept their Father's word and their Mother's magic even in the worst of times. Ye true servants of light. I was watching, sweet ones. Even in my grief. Your gallantry didn’t go unnoticed. You didn't let cruelty consume you. Love guided your hand instead. Despite the fires and ash you still chose to leave little acts of kindness in your wake, like scattered jewels. The true wealth of any kingdom. My breath is taken every time I witness such gestures of the heart. Kasi will keep you forever in his breast, beloved ones, that you might find your way home again one glorious day. For we are more than the ravages of time or fate. Much more. We are the spirit and the truth, everlasting. Leaves and laurels. Branches and ball gowns. There are mortals whose hearts shine as bright as the wings of any angel. And because of such mortals the kingdom lives on in holy dreams. I heard you in the forest one morning, dear artist, singing of romance and cherish. I wondered what it might be like to walk with you, to take your hand. Hear me now, brave one. You are indeed a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags. Even if they aren't pretty, or smart, or young. They're still princesses. All of them. Behold, a Father's word. A Mother's magic. Ever After. So, my beautiful lavender star, would you do me the honour of this first dance?
Post a Comment