Round 1-The Announcement

[Kagerus]

Bonfires, poetry, and livin' life right and there's
Beaches, boats, sailing, togetherness
The feelin' like you're smilin' even brighter when the weather's shit

It was not unlike the newly flowered girl to daydream - though that is an ill begotten term for the thoughts which ran rampant through her galaxy of a mind. It all began long ago. As a small child at her father’s knee, she was wont to make up fantastical lands in her mind, planets wherein she could hide herself from the hardships of life, solar systems that were unique to her. The children in her school-class would often laugh when the abstract girl shared her other-worlds with them: you are foolish, Kagerus! You will become lost like your mother soon enough! They would taunt. And although the children’s cruelty caused the girl to take her studies into her small, happy cottage, she did not want for companionship: her ever present father, Kavi, made for the best of friends.

“Where are you, Kagerus?” The aged man whispered from across the table upon which they broke their fast. His graying gold locks fell haphazardly around his angular face, a face reminiscent of the regal aura the monarchy wore. A spoon of hot, steaming oatmeal floated just in front of his smile-crinkled mouth, momentarily forgotten as he gazed fondly upon his beloved daughter, who sat in an identical position, but who stood in another world completely.

With a smile worthy of the sun, Kagerus’ nutmeg eyes refocused on the world around her: the old-fashioned but comfortable wood furnishings, the paintings her mother made before disappearing hanging perfectly straight along the peeling walls, the tea kettle boiling in the kitchen just yonder, and, most lovely of all, her patient, doting father.

“Oh, Da, I was in Beqanna! You know the one!” She exclaimed, searching Kavi’s amber eyes for recognition of this world and rushing on once she found it. “We were just off for a visit to Mum’s, in that Jungle she loves so much, and we ran and whinnied and our tails flew high behind us - it was glorious, Da, wish you could have been there!” Laughing quietly to herself, Kagerus looks to the dregs of her breakfast and pushes them about, wishing she could fade back into her favourite land for the rest of time.

But alas, it was not to be: her land was not Beqanna.

It was Illea, and today, ah, today there was to be an announcement.

Reaching up with a feather-light hand to push away a stray lock of long, dark auburn hair, Kagerus looked to Kavi, quiet now that she had been forced back to reality, to poverty, and to a sometimes-loneliness. Her old, tired father sighed a happy sigh, and rose from their once-lovely table to collect the dishes of the morning meal.

“Go on now, Rou, and get dressed. I’ll clean up here in the meantime, and then we shall be off to the square.”

Planting a good, warm kiss on the top of her sloping head, Kavi trundled off into the kitchen, whistling a tune his wife used to sing, oblivious to the changes which were about to overtake his small, albeit happy, family.
Rising now to her long, elegant legs, the nineteen year old youth turned and walked calmly up the rickety stairs towards her bedroom with a lithe hand resting on the worn handrail. As she dressed herself that morning, Kagerus tried to reimagine herself as that beautiful bay-overo filly gallivanting through the Jungle with her buckskin father, but by the time she and that self-same father left for the announcement, the image was completely eradicated from her mind.

There would not be much time for daydreaming in the days to come, after all.

Arm in arm, father and daughter wandered pleasantly through the outskirts of town, calling to neighbours and waving hello to strangers they happened upon. The pair passed by homey cottages which were a juxtaposition onto themselves, with crumbling walls and failing roof thatches, and they passed by dairy cows which mooed their pleasure of the warm morning sun, and now and then they even leaned down to scratch the ears of a gentle stray dog. Yes, their way of travel was a wandering, and happy, quiet wanderers they were.

The closer to the square they got, however, the more withdrawn they became. Neighbours no longer heralded them with news of the family farm, and stray dogs were more likely to bite than to whine their happy, doggy whine. Kavi’s strong, sinewy arm tightened its grip around Kagerus’, and his amber eyes grew very watchful, for it was loud in the centre of the town, and as hermits, noise was as dangerous to them as frost was to their crops.

With eyes half-closed in a show of languid confidence and lips touching but teeth apart, Kagerus surveyed the chaos about them. Men spoke thunderously and in great groups, while gaggles of women shouted boorishly and simpered their need for male companionship. It all made her uncomfortable, but her facial expression portrayed none of these thoughts - with her chin held high, she passed by the mayhem with a grace  that many farmer’s daughters never grew to have.

“Oh, look, Rou, your cousin Straia is working in her shoppe today!” Putting on a polite, reserved smile, the young woman followed complacently behind her father and greeted her cousin with a kiss on both cheeks. Despite all the noise about them, Kagerus tried to pay her utmost attention to her beautiful tailor-cousin, nodding all the while and caressing her kin’s tamed raven in an attempt to seem, well, interested. But the polish of her act soon wore off, and with another exchange of kisses, Kavi and Kagerus departed from the shoppe.

“Always nice to see cousin Rai,” the auburn-haired girl murmured so that only Kavi could hear. “Even if she has a strange taste in animal companionship.”

Laughing a deep, smoky laugh, Kavi inhaled to reply, but was cut off by the unhappy bellowing of a woman not far from them.

“You would think we were rioting with all the police and royal guard present!”

Nodding awkwardly to the ruffled biddy, father and daughter slid further into the crowd, in close to the oak-wood stage. Kagerus’ nutmeg eyes took in all the sights: the Illean Regulars in their snapping red uniforms, the sleepy-looking officials with their dastardly wigs, and all the bustling citizens around them. It was all very, very much to take in, and Kagerus was glad to have her attention redirected to the bumbly little speaker who trundled up to the centre of the stage.

Silence fell like thick snow on Christmas day with the opening of the speaker’s parchment paper. Kagerus felt the electricity of the men’s desire for a revolution, and sensed the quivering of feeble female knees. She, herself, didn’t know just what to think; Illea was on the verge of something, whether it liked it or not, and this unseemly announcement from the monarchy… well, something was cooking in Fate’s stew.

“By Royal Decree, I am authorized to share the following message from the King and Queen to the general public of Illea.

We have heard your concerns. We want to make it known that our thoughts are not only with those within our family, but with all of our people. That is why we are going to hold a competition. This competition will end with a single one of our loyal subjects being granted the Illean heir's hand in marriage. We hope this will help unite our kingdom once more and bring forth a new era of understanding.

All those interested in entering will need to fill out an application at their local town hall. The application will consist of general information, personal accomplishments and goals, as well as a sketch of yourself, which you will be able to have drafted upon entering. All questions can be addressed to your Selection Ambassador, who will be available at the towne center. The application deadline will be one week from today, and the town hall will open in one hour to begin taking applications.

Oh, yes, almost forgot, you must be between the age of 19-24 to enter. Thank you.”

Chaos ensues, and for the friendly hermits, it is all too much.

Soon they are home once more, free from the caterwauling women and the ever scheming men, free from the stink of the city square and the noise of it all. Kagerus replied minimally to her father for the rest of the day, hidden in the storm clouds of her thunderous thoughts. And as the moon rose and both hermits were tucked snuggly into their warm beds, Fate came to the daughter and spooned her a cup of His stew.

Over the course of the next few days, Kagerus’ grew ever more and ever more desirous of the Selection. She understood the political insinuations this meant, and that did not scare her; hermit though she may be, the girl was perceptive, cunning, and lucratively intelligent. Furthermore, she missed her mother, and her brother, too. Both of them had disappeared without a trace, and although that was not uncommon in Illea, it least Kagerus with a deep pang of loneliness that she simply could not cure with the simpletons who lived about her.

Perhaps this heir will be of my intelligence… Perhaps he will have lands, too, places he escapes to. And in the least, this competition shall forestall Da from giving me away in marriage to some drab… I know he means well, but our pockets are mighty light, and I know what a bridegroom may pay for a newly flowered girl such as me.

As soon as she thought that thought, it did not leave. Rather, the opposite: the thought became so consistent that it ate away at her and frayed her nerves until, at last, she acted impulsively.

Under the ruse of fetching water from the well in the towne centre, Rou left early on the last day of the week to seek out the towne hall. She was dressed simply, with her dark auburn hair done up in a classic bun. Upon her feet were plain slippers, and in her eyes, a spark of anxiety so bright, it could only be excitement.

“Yes, hello, I would like to apply for the Selection. No, I am not joking, sir, I am not one who jokes. Very well, I shall wait for you to find your quill; ready now? Ah, I thought so. My name is Kagerus Zon, Rou for short. I am a farmer’s daughter, age nineteen. I am pure of virtue and clean and all that nonsense. Goals? It would interest me greatly to be a political figurehead of some kind further down the line of my life, a diplomat perhaps? Yes, that sounds like my goal. Accomplishments? Well, I have run my father’s farm with only his help for the past many years; my hands know work, but are still soft and gentle, so the Heir needn’t fear for that. What else is it that you need? A sketch? Well, very well, be on with it now.”

Standing erect and with the full Look on her angular face (eyes hooded, lips together, teeth apart), Kagerus waited impatiently for the pudgy man to finish his sketch. This certainly is a big pail of water she is drawing from the well - ah, well, the ruse was never meant to hold up, anyhow. Smiling primly when the attendant signalled he had finished, Kagerus looked momentarily upon the drawing, and nodded her satisfaction. Her dark auburn hair curled just right from her bun, her crisp collar bones shone from beneath her simple dress, her freckled cheeks sat high upon their bones, and her nutmeg eyes seemed to glow. “Yes, this will do very well, sir, and I thank you.”

Without bothering to fill a pail of water on her return home, Kagerus wondered in which universe she would ever be selected to take part in this competition. Surely the Heir would over look a simple farm girl without second thought; Kagerus would do the same, if she were royalty. Not because she would want to, of course, but because as a monarch, there were simply too many subjects to be able to take personal interest in each and every one of them.

But, of course, Fate has his ways.

Two weeks later, an acceptance letter came to their humble front door, and their lives exploded into a bustle of activity - the very thing they disliked, funnily enough. Never in a million years had either of them expected this turn of events (Kavi had, intuitively, known his daughter’s intentions upon that day a fortnight ago, but he had not intuitively known this). Ecstatic neighbours help Kagerus purchase new, glorious gowns of the like she has never even set fingers upon; frilly linens are gifted to her; and many more gifts are showered upon her. With the dawn of the very next day, the family’s two trunks are full to the brim and threaten explosion should one more item be placed in their grasp.

Luckily for them, the time to depart has come.

From with a horse-drawn carriage the carriage-company owner had delightedly lended to her needs, Kagerus gazed down tearfully at her father, trunks in lap. Everything had happened so quickly, and although she knew this was what would forestall her imminent engagement, she wasn’t so sure that Fate’s stew was sitting contentedly in her tummy anymore.

“Good-bye, Rou! Good-bye, Kagerus! Write to me, darling, and be safe!” Her father’s loving calls were the last words she heard for a long while as her carriage began bumping merrily along its way. She held the image of her blonde father with his hat waving above his head in her mind for as long as she could, but without much prompting, the girl soon had her head out the carriage window, nutmeg eyes drinking in all the new sights, smells, and sounds.

Oh.

The carriage came to a stop, and all the wilderness she had just been ensnared by seemed to dwindle in magnificence in comparison to the castle which stood before her now. Unlatching her door and stepping from it with a trunk in either hand, Kagerus breathily thanked her cabby, and began walking towards the elegant castle, mouth just slightly agape in wonder.

“Oh, miss, do allow me!” Starting at the generous sound of a man’s voice, Rou snapped the Look on to her face and turned to examine the speaker. It was a burly valet in a pristine black suit, with a curled moustache, just so. Kagerus does not blush.

“Thank you, sir…?”

“Rhaego, if it please you, miss…?”

“Rou. A pleasure, Rhaego.”

Walking now with her hands folded quietly in front of her, Kagerus followed Rhaego the valet obediently, but not timidly. Her eyes, forever at half-mast, did not fail to study every detail of the castle as they passed by it in what she believed to be quite a hurry. For a wandering lass, this tour business seemed much too hasty. She barely had time to memorize the masterpieces hung upon the towering walls, or to run her fingers along the finely engraved hand railings; she longed for an opportunity to admire the intricate, polished furniture of which she could surely never be an owner, and she wished for a chance to look in every door this impossibly large mansion could offer her.

Ever the obscure girl, Rou longed for the abstract: for what no one else could possibly long for.

So ensnared by the beauty and wonder of it all she become that, come nightfall, it felt as though she had only arrived but one heartbeat ago.

Fate’s stew,
A dollop for you,
And to sleep you go,
So little you know...

☼ Kagerus