Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK II - Scene XVI

The sea-swept woman arrived in Wedkarten. The capital of the Northern Kingdom was somewhat different in tone to the capitals of Caster and the Eastern Kingdom. It was slightly more rustic, and less imperial. Its relative magnificence half-lost in the sea of woodland that sprawled out in all directions. The rocky extinct volcano on which King Brijsk's portly castle stood, making it almost look as if the ancient earth was trying to rise up and reclaim the city from underneath itself. The intermingled stone and wooden houses, that ran along crooked winding streets, being large enough in total to create an impressive sight for any country-dweller that happened to wander upon it. Yet, nevertheless, it remained rural in feel to those more acquainted with other cities in other lands.

With her basic attire and natural, but ragged hair, the strange stranger didn't look entirely out of place. The dotted-about women that occasionally passed by her, as she headed towards the market square, looking only marginally more well-dressed. Though generally their hair, unlike hers, was usually neatly plaited. Adding a summery impression to the otherwise cold and windy streets.

Arriving in the Wedkarten market, its little stalls bustling with buyers and sellers, she immediately made a beeline to a pair of the king's guards that were patrolling the square. Their brisk steps, familiar and half-hearted, traipsing on the hard stone ground.

"I must speak with your king."

They glanced, but mindlessly ignored her.

"I must speak to him," she repeated, this time grabbing one of the guards by the arm.

Without care or annoyance the guard simply threw her to the ground. Her light frame, barely anchored by the slightly heavier linen drape she wore, providing little resistance. Unperturbed she got back up and went seeking a another route toward the king. Skulking through the market until she reached the rugged castle. Finally, she found a door used by serving maids, that led through to the castle kitchens. A loud knock. A slat in the wooden door opened. "I need to speak with your king," her croaked voice repeated. A loud laugh came back. "No one meeting the king would come through this door."

She walked back out and sat on the little stone wall that lined the path to the door. Then looked up to the bluish sky, and out across the busy market, the blurring people silent in the distance. She then stared down at a small puddle on the stony ground. The clear pristine water occasionally disturbed by the quiet gusts of breeze that whittled down the path. Reaching into her matted dress she pulled out a small tincture. She uncorked the tiny bottle and poured its contents into the puddle; its clearness quickly replaced with a muddy bronze. The brown murk reflecting the bright cloudy sky on its sepia mirror-like surface.

Slowly a huge purple cloud came into view from the east. Its deep colour giving a reddish tint to the reflection on the puddle. As it crept across the sky it swirled and careened like the long claws of a dragon. The thorn-toothed spirals winding like knotted rose heads, vining against the gloomy blue of the sky. The white clouds a peppered backdrop. A market seller selling turnips to an old woman stopped midsentence as he raised his head to watch the strange spectacle. There was a murmur of chatter as others stopped and commented. Two guards came out the door to watch, followed by a serving girl.

The sea-swept woman - who had came to see the king - got up from the wall; dipping her toe in the puddle as she did so, destroying the shiny reflection with the ripples. A crimson rain began to fall. She then calmly walked through the open door and into the castle.