Chapter 3, Part One: Who Are You Again?

               As soon as we walked through the elaborate obsidian-like gate, a shallow drowsiness overcame me. I began to stumble and the lush grass beneath me began to spin.

So tired…

“Vic…tor..” I mumbled, but received no answer.

               As if in an instant, my eyes fluttered shut, then snapped open. What was revealed before me was almost too grand for eyes such as mine. A long, slim hallway, with boxed spaces in the walls, holding elaborate gold vases, tropical flowers, picturesque paintings and other fancy knick-knacks. To top it all off, the floor beneath us was red like crimson, with the walls keeping us in were a bit darker, like fresh blood from an annoying cut. I could see my reflection in the shimmering tile, where I was once again shocked about my appearance. I was still wearing the nightgown, but I was given a large shawl jacket to wear over it, so the results of my death-induced breakdown weren’t as obvious. In such a place like this, even this fine piece of cloth felt like a child’s rag. I felt like a little kid again, surrounded by grown up things I couldn’t even begin to understand. It was terrifying yet refreshing. Something new.

               I followed Victor down the long, winding hallway, the black flats I had been given, sliding awkwardly over the floor. I was worried that I would leave a mark on the tediously cleaned floor, but with a glance behind me, it seemed that I shouldn’t worry. As we walked, I reached out a pale, slim hand and traced it along the edge of a light blue vase, carrying dozens of speckled eggs. Were those real? They couldn’t be. I decided not to ponder on it for too long. After a little walking and daydreaming, we reached a small door. It surprised me, to see such a normal thing in a place like this.

“What is this?” I asked, whispering, as if there was something I shouldn’t be asking.

“The inauguration room.” Victor answered with a gentle smile. I raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Inauguration…?” He nodded.

“Yes, yes! Do not worry, it is a simple process with an unnecessarily complicated title.” He gestured towards the door handle. “The king is waiting, shall we go, Ms. Marie?” I nodded, not really knowing what to expect.

               The door opened with a soft creak and Victor held the door open for me as I padded in, cautious. The door clicked closed behind me and Victor and I stood in front of a rather large fireplace, surrounded by three rickety wooden tables. One had bowls of all kind and sizes, the next with jars of herbs and bundles of flowers, and the last had just a golden needle sitting in the middle, with nothing else.

“What the hell is all of this?”

“Ah.” Victor began, “Just wait, my dear.” I scoffed but obliged.

               There was a large chair in the corner, shrouded in darkness. I didn’t notice someone was sitting in it, until a massive figure rose from it and began to approach us. Once entering the firelight, a large, burly man was revealed. His appearance was…. Unique, I should say. He was wearing a small green velvet robe that only went over his left shoulder. Underneath this was a simple leather vest with that seemed like a regular white button up. He wore brown pants, that seemed to just barely fit him. After giving his clothes a once over, I was taken aback by his actual face. Chubby and a bit cherry in the cheeks, with frazzled red hair and a long beard that was tied into a bun just at the end. I giggled softly to myself. He was like santa claus! The bold man gave me a wide, toothy grin.

“Whats so funny, young lady?” I held my tongue immediately. I had just laughed at the King, hadn’t I?

“Nothing… Your uh, Your Highness.” He leaned back with a hearty chortle.

“Oh, what a sweetheart. Please, just call me King. Theres no need to be so nervous around me. Now then, is there something funny?”

I blinked in surprise. He was so kind. Warm and welcoming. Nothing like I had expected at all.

“Well,” I started. “You… you kind of remind me of santa.” His smile faded.

“Santa? Is that a resident here?”

What?”

“No, like, Santa Claus.”

“Hm… The name doesn’t ring a bell. Is he of importance?”

I was too stunned to speak. Victor was holding back a laugh, I could tell, but said nothing to aid me in my pitiful situation.

“Nevermind, King. Just a uh, an old friend of mine.” He nodded curtly.

“Ah, well, if we do resemble eachother, I would surely love to meet this gentleman.”

“Aha… sure.”

               The room was silent for a bit, just the crackling of the fire and the tapping of tree branches against the blue stained window in the corner.

“Now,” The King began. “Lets sit down, shall we?”

“Sure, tha-“ I was cut as when as soon as I blinked, the tables were neatly pushed aside and two more velvet chairs appeared before us. Today could not get any more surprising. Maybe it would just be easier to get used to it… Victor and I took a seat in front of the King and he gazed intently into my eyes. I found myself glancing away at anything else. I’ve always had trouble making eye contact, nevermind with a king.

“My dear, don’t be afraid.” He said humbly. “You are safe now.” I snapped my heads toward him.

“What…?”

“You are safe now, Marie. Everything is going to be okay.” I didn’t realize the tears were falling until I felt the droplets fall onto my tightly folded hands in my lap.

“I…” He continued to smile at me.

“I can’t promise perfection,” he started again. “But what has hurt you before, will touch you no longer.”

               I dipped my head and let the salty tears fall, making no sound. They rolled down my face, onto my nose, and into my mouth. They tasted sweet. Strange. Realizing I was making a scene, I pulled myself together and wiped my face the best I could.

“I-I’m sorry.” I coughed on my emotions once again. “I wasn’t expecting to hear something like that.”

“Its okay, my dear. Do not be afraid to show how you feel. You’ll find it to be much easier soon, hopefully.” I nodded with a weak smile. He cleared his throat.

“Well then, shall we get started?”

Victor stayed in his seat while the King and I stood over the table with the intricate bowls. They all had different designs. Some extremely fancy, and some just plain. I looked up at him, awaiting some sort of prompt.    

“You may choose whichever you like.”

“Okay…” I glanced back down at them. So many choices, how was I supposed to choose just one? I let my eyes wander for a while before I settles on a mustard yellow miniature mug. “This one.”

He looked puzzled. “That one… where did that come from?” He stood still and silent for a moment. “Oh, well, that will do just fine. Follow me.”

We then moved to the table with bottles of herbs and flowers. I was immediately drawn to a very large bundle of daisies on the far-left side of the table. I pointed to them, and he grabbed them lightly, adding them to a wicker basket he had been holding, along with the mug. Without any words, we moved to the final table, the one with golden needle. The sight of it made me uneasy, but I wouldn’t deny it was a very fine piece of work.

“Whats next?” I asked. He set down the small mug, bundle of daisies, and a small bundle of thread.

“Its up to you, Marie. Do what you would like.” I furrowed my brows.

“What am I supposed to do with all of this crap?”

“No, Marie, not crap. Do anything you would please.” I let out an exasperated sigh.

“Okay then…”

After a few moments of staring blankly, I thought of something. I took four of the daisies from the bundle and ripped the flowers from the stems. A few petals came lose, and I gathered them up and put them in the mug. Next, I threaded the golden needle with the thread he had given me – which took multiple tries – and started to piece together the four flower heads. Once finished, I had made them into a sort of crown, that I laid lightly on the edge of the mug, which fit perfectly around the rim.

“Im done.” He looked at me, surprisingly seeming pleased.

“Very nice.” Was all he said, before the entire thing, mug and everything went up in flames.

“What the hell!?” I gaped. “I worked hard on that!”

“I apologize.” He said. “For that, and this.”

I began to give him another retort, when a searing, burning pain began to form on my right shoulder blade. It felt like a million needles were each being poked deep into my pores, like some sort of cursed acupuncture. I doubled forward, grasping my shoulder tightly.

“Damn it…” Before I could suffer any longer, the pain stopped. I let out a shallow gasp as the stinging subsided. I looked at the King with raging eyes. “What did you just to do me? That fucking hurt!”

He winced. “You curse like a sailor, dear… Anyway, what you just felt was an imprint. Every resident gets one. They all have different meanings.” He paused. “I apologize, but I’m going to have to ask you to remove your gown.” My eyes widened.

“Excuse me?”

“I need to see the imprint.” He said, sounding apologetic.

“But… I’m not wearing anything under this…”

He frowned. “Im sorry, dear. Would you like to prepare in this other room?” I groaned. What a mess…

“Just… don’t look for one sec.” he nodded and turned around, as did victor. I slowly unbuttoned the shawl and hesitantly slipped off the nightgown. I winced at the cold on my skin, despite the fire burning nearby. I cupped my breasts with my hands and reluctantly told them I was ready. I only showed them my back, since that’s where I assumed the imprint was.

They both gazed at me in silence. It felt like hours had gone by with how long they were staring.

“Jeez!” I exclaimed. “Are you having fun, you morons?” The King coughed.

“My dear, I am happily married. And victor here…”

“I prefer men.” He chimed in. Right.

“Then why am I still standing here being stared at?!” The King sighed.

“Please get changed and have a seat.”

               After doing so, I was perched on the chair in front of them, legs crossed protectively. I couldn’t look them in the eye. How embarrassing.

“Marie, my dear.” The King began. “Let me explain something to you.” I nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “I said that each imprint means different things,” he continued. “In simpler terms, it defines character and hierarchy. The lowest is the earth. It means nothing other than that person is a simple being and is certified immediately for the most basic jobs. But you, my dear…” he paused. “Are a universal. And a lunar one at that.” I tossed my head back and groaned.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you are royalty of the rarest kind.”