100 Day Writing Challenge
Day #5
Prompt: “The dress spoke to her…”
Carved into the face of the grand Mount Heiwan bustled a royal city known for hosting balls in a palace facing a lake that stretched towards the horizon. This palace was adorned with golden gargoyles that guarded the gate and lakeside terraces. Only the richest of the rich and the finest of the fine ladies and gentlemen of the surrounding kingdoms were invited to attend. And even then, there were strict regulations for admittance.
This palace wasn’t a center for royal socializing. Rather, it was an arena. Instead of gladiators or warriors wielding swords and lances, the arena boasted elegance and dancers to rule the kingdom.
For whoever can control his or her own body to the rhythm of sonnets and ballads in a beauty of telling a story is more fit to control a kingdom.
When life beats its own drum in the rhythm of every day, the one who can sway with fate can more appropriately guide a kingdom through the throes of disaster and into the harmonies of peace.
Thus only those who could offer a dance of fire or of energetic spark could enter the ballroom. The arena of festivities was the election hall for new dignitaries. Anyone who attended with two left feet or a torn drum would be immediately escorted out of the courtyard.
It was this palace in its twilight glory that became the mindless focal point of a young maiden by the name of Belean leaning against a tree along the shoreline of the lake opposite the castle. It was the day before the ball dance, and the palace was even more gorgeous than usual. She sighed, dreaming of one day becoming queen of the kingdom Heiwan.
Yet that was a futile dream. A fool’s hope.
She shoved herself from the trunk of the tree and gripped her cane with a hand while the other clung to a branch. She limped down the dirt road back to the storefront where her aunt ran a clothing shoppe.
Fending off the verbal barrage of insults and lashes against tardiness, she hobbled into the back room where she began to unload crates of trousers and dresses. As she sorted them by style, she came across a beautiful black dress with golden fringes lacing the sleeves.
She raised the fabric up against her body and swayed to a silent ballad. In a breath, her grip on her cane loosened and the stick crashed to the floor followed by the thump of her body landing in a heap. She clutched the dress into a wad as tears streamed her face.
“Oh, no! I ruined the dress!” She held it up eye level to inspect a tear-stained splotch. She quickly dabbed it with her own skirt, but it only transferred more dirt.
“No, no. No need for that.” The voice startled her, and she scrambled to her feet. Belean snatched up her cane, leaning on it as her eyes darted across the room.
Empty.
“Oh, honey. I’ve startled you.” She looked down at the black heap hugging her feet. A brooch sewn into the neckline of the dress glowed as the dress spoke to her. “You are quite beautiful, aren’t you?”
“Who are you? And how are you speaking?” Belean gingerly picked up the dress and held it brooch facing up.
“It matters not who I am. The important matter is who you are. I have traveled kingdoms near and far searching for a soul nestled in a person so pure and heart kind.”
“We have never met. Have could you observe such things about me?”
“Darling, I’ve seen thousands of people in my years when this brooch has been my home. I have come to be able to sense the purity of a soul within the first moments of an encounter. And you, my love, are overflowing with purity of heart.”
The brooch hummed a soft vibration as if offering an embrace.
“Tonight is the eve of the great ball to select the next ruler of Heiwan. Prepare, for tomorrow we shall make our way across the lake to the palace ballroom.”
“I am so sorry you’ve wasted your time. But I shan’t be able to dance. I haven’t a good leg. I broke it as a young girl and it never healed right. I’ve walked with a limp ever since.”
“Sweet One, I’ve seen your limp as you paraded about a few moments ago. I could hear the music in your mind’s ear and watched as you flowed with the melodies and rhythms as if you were a puppet surrendered to the whims of a puppeteering composer. Adorn your body with this dress of mine and you shall move about with new legs, unhindered by the misfortunes of the past. You shall be free to prance and dance with the accuracy of a century-trained dancer.”
Belean slipped the fabric down her slender body. Her cane fell to the ground, but the voice in the brooch reprimanded her with a soft voice when she tried to bend to pick it up.
“Honey, let the powers of the dress release you of your past and escort you into your future without the weights of former shackles. Now, dance. Sway to the music of your heart.”
Belean closed her eyes and felt her body lurch into a majestic dance in the shadows of the back storeroom, hidden from the eyes of her aunt. Her motions were smooth and effortless, blending with the melodies swarming her. The brooch cast sparks of lights around the room, lunging Belean into a ballroom dance among the stars of the heavens.
The night was ecstatic. Her crippled leg was reborn into an athletic dancer’s limb, enabling her to be a contender in the ballroom arena. The morning came all too slowly for Belean as she impatiently floated into the heavens of her storeroom. Her cane shoved under a stool.
The hour arrived for Belean to enter the courtyard of the palace and the black dress fit beautifully; the brooch radiating a soft orange glow; and her dark hair flowing freely against the golden fringes of the dress.
A moment’s effort was enough to convince the guards to allow her to enter the ballroom arena. She sat in a chair against the wall with tapestries draped from the high ceiling. A diamond chandelier glistened from the center beam.
As the contenders began arrive, an orchestra came to life, filling the room with a fog of string harmonies. The brooch took on a royal blue hue when the dancing commenced. Her heart raced, but her mind was solid. She was confident in herself and felt the music within her spirit. Every chord, every note, every rest resonated within her.
Her turn to the center of the room arrived suddenly and she found herself instinctively feeling for a cane.
“You can do this,” the brooch’s soft voice broke through the deafening orchestra. “You are more than talented. You are worthy to wear the crown. Enjoy yourself, darling. Become the queen you are meant to be.”
And indeed she was talented. Her every move brought wonder and amazement from the observers. Her flawless performance elicited worry and fear within the hearts of her other dancing gladiators, knowing that their chances for the crown faded with each lunge and skip and twirl.
In an unprecedented commotion, the present queen of Heiwan descended from her throne and approached Belean. Moving swiftly, Belean came off her spin and gracefully knelt before her majesty.
“In all my years of dance and in watching what the nations of this great land had to offer in terms of motion and grace, I have never witnessed such finesse, such elegance. There is no need for the remaining contestants to perform for I have made my decision.”
The queen dipped her head close to Belean’s own, “What is your name, child?”
“Belean, your excellency.”
The queen removed the crown from her head and placed it upon that of Belean’s. “People of Heiwan, hail your new queen, Lady Belean!”
The ballroom erupted in reverent applaud followed by a bow rippling throughout the crown. Belean turned and gazed upon the mass of people honoring her as the new queen of Heiwan. Her fingertips ran along the base of her new adornment.
“My queen.” The brooch hummed against her chest.
A fool’s dream, but what life is there without such dreaming?
- (c) Kevin Barrick
Enjoy more flash fiction like this in my 30-tale collection! A perfect blend of stories for a strong brew of creativity.
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