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Once upon a time there was a knight who fell in love with a princess from another dynasty.
Of course he would fall for her. For all his life, he has been tasked with guarding her. For all his life, he grew up with her, knowing her likes, her dislikes, how she loved painting or how she taught him to appreciate the arts. She taught him to see the world, and he taught her to listen to her heart.
It was a lovely tale, a perfection like shadows under the soft sunset when they kissed and swore to love each other. He would dance and play the violin, surrounded by yellow flowers as their reflection twirled under the moonlight.
They played under the early moonlight, above the waters like the children they were.
A tale of how they were to be wed and lived happily ever after.
A tale full of love and perfection.
Then, as the light illuminates the figure, the knight gazes at the horrible truth from the ground. For he was not standing together with her any longer. The day before their wedding day, the princess jumped from the tower.
A single truth was broken that day.
It wasn't a fairy tale.
How long has she not been in love with him?
The moon was lonely. The moon has always been lonely all this time.
All that time, the knights were sharing his tales, his affections, his declaration of drunken stupor. Were all of those mere revelries of the fools? Was he too blind to have realised his love was not true love like those in fairy tales?
And such, the fairy tale turned into a legend. Of how a knight who was in love, once resided in this castle alongside the princess that was to be married to him.
And what of him?
Hmm, to put it like this, do you prefer romance? Or suspense?
He laughed. For it was foolish of him to think he needed love returned for his heart to love. For the truth hasn’t changed for him. The knight was ultimately, a man in love. For love is all he lived for. For his love now no longer breathe in this world.
But the darkness did not consume such a man. There were no signs of his love unreturned by the princess. She did not reject his proposal. There was no resistance or hatred between the two.
The knight remembered the days he had spent protecting the girl he knew since he was a young man. The girl that loves painting and dancing and listened to his violin.
The darkness shall fade and the truth remains.
The knight has loved the princess all his life.
Therefore he shall follow where she went. Throughout the ceremony celebrating her life, he shall celebrate the death of a man. For she will not be lonely in her thoughts and spirit, for he will protect what is left of her legacy.
The legend of the lonely moon.
The princess who has become the moon, shall the knight reach out to her once more should he be allowed to stay by her side.
That should be the end of the story.
That should be.
But no, it wasn't.
And as for the suspense story?
Searching for long-lost love, he now roams the halls of the castle they once resided in. For he had heard wishes, complying to such wishes, their tale soon turned into a legend.
When the strings sound out, the destined will uncover the door of moonbeams. From the castle's highest, they will arrive treading on the moon.
The knight now became a ghost. A restless spirit who sought for his long-lost love who slipped from his fingers. The two missing objects, the princess’ gem and the knight’s violin became the anchor to this tale’s reality.
Another truth was made in this order.
In time, someone shall seek out this truth.
With enough of them, he became visible to the truthseeker. The spirit of the knight, as they were told in the legend. A man of great eloquence and a heart that loves with all of his being. The spirit who yearns for the moon and a love that was so far yet so near.
The knight becomes a man, who loves the princess as much as the moon. The knight was saddened for he had lost his lover, now sought her return.
Under the moon, a man found the violin upon the crevices of a wall. In such, two bodies become one. Finally, he was whole. His being completed from the scattered memories, aided by the truthseeker.
And such everything was well.
Until there was a crack in the mirror.
“I have found the letters. That can’t possibly be, professor. The legend was false. These two letters proved at least that. The curse is not real.”
“If it were the truth, what of it? The Lone Moon's Tale was just a story based on the legend passed down in the area.” Calmly the professor instigates such a notion, for the person before the student before him has a similar story to the letter brought to him. Emotions play a large role in their judgment, and for once, the professor feared that their emotions might hinder their search for the truth.
“For the knight to have written the letter in this manner, they had to be a woman in accordance with the letters. A woman who had been placed and accepted himself to the role of man, becoming a man who fell into the duty of guarding the princess till the end of his time. I sense a kinship with this knight, professor. Therefore your legend is wrong and here the letter is proof of why.
I won't accept the knight if they did not represent myself. ”
The professor merely shook his head and sighed. “If that's what you think is the truth then it shall be your truth.”
“I know that is the truth, Professor,” he exclaimed. “I thought you would understand this tale better than anyone else and was going to be the most open-minded person I could talk to before my resignation.”
The words are too much. It confuses the spirit…
“As the school was built upon these old castle halls, it was designed to be an all girl’s school. We prioritize nothing but the students' comfort. If it feels best to your discretion to resign due to your personal comfort, I would be happy to arrange your credit transfers for the future.” The red quill shook unbeknownst to the student facing the professor.
The spirit had fled the reading room.
“Thank you, professor.” he smiled.
“My pleasure.”
The Professor of Literature roams to find the knight on the tower alone consoling the moon. It was apparent how upset the spirit was when the cold air slammed past his face. It took great effort to not collapse in front of the consoling student nor stab himself to have felt something… anything after the sudden tremble.
What am I?
The spirit’s voice was cold and upset. It was a dangerous game, even for the professor to have sought him immediately like this. Spirits were always dangerous, unpredictable, they move and feel in a different manner than the living.
Am I not the ghost of the knight from the history book? The knight that had stayed loyal to the Chaussons as the other eight would not?
The knight sounded awfully confused, fearful. As if he was forced to be someone and something instead of who they truly are. To be accepted and fit into the standards and the expectations given. Isn't that how it is always with his life? With all his life?
Carefully, the professor spoke to him. “You are a legend. Passed down from generation to generation. A story told to cover up the truth hidden underneath the “incident”. It was my duty to protect the truth and in return, you were born from the tale. In time, it gave your tale some flesh, and you've acquired your own personality.” You are a spirit born of the legend spun by others around you. But it would be hard to swallow without hard facts that frankly were nonexistent. Therefore...
You do not own me nor control me…
The words again, dangerous, and upset.
“Correct. I do not. I will not benefit from your identity. Who you are, who you want to be, I will not have anything to do with it.” I was merely fulfilling an oath given to me. Just like you, bound by the duty of a knight in which I barely knew…
“Just like you, I do not choose my make. I, however, choose whether I should continue the duty that was given to me.”
...What am I to do?
The knight’s words softened. Once it was filled with anger and confusion now hinted with fear. Fear of being nonexistent. Fear that all the life he has been living was a blatant lie. Fear that he was a mere character tied under invisible strings.
“ What do you want to do? Who do you wish to become?
From what I see, you are begotten from a tale spun by the masses. From my quill, words were given to wonders beyond any others to be a knight with as much gallantry as I could have possibly imagined. But in the end, you are you. You are to decide what you are. No matter how much people want you to be, you must be what you are.” From consoling students to handling the spiritual matters of a terrified spirit, such is the duty of a teacher.
I… Can I even be something more than I am? I've been told many many times about who I am or who I was supposed to be.
A knight,
A man,
A woman,
A lover,
A violinist,
A murderer,
An evil spirit,
A projection,
A tool,
A scapegoat,
A story told and formed by many… many…
Do I even exist? Do I even have a will of my own? I...
“A fool. You are a goddamn fool.” The professor shook his head. “Does it matter if it’s real or fake? You are here now and I perceive you. Come down here. We’ll take it slowly.”
The knight rematerialises. Upon the moonlight that shone from the small window, he floated down to greet the professor. It wasn’t of any grandeur, merely a defeated knight, swamped by all that he could be, would be, should be.
Would I be accepted more if I were to be what they wanted me to be?
“Forget what everyone says. You are not an illusion. You are not their illusion.” Gloved hands held the invisible ones, carrying him back, carrying him home. “People will say what they want. Their mouths aren’t stitched, and they will seek their own brand of truth that is acceptable to them. They will blind themselves with the different, the incorrect, they will label anyone, they will label themselves to be fitting.”
The knight understood that much. Even now in a space of constant learning, labels are dangerous, words are like swords, and a certain educator seemed to not have been paid enough to handle this brand of madness.
“I am not asking you to stay or be what you thought I wanted you to be. You knew what you wanted, or at the very least, what you would not have wanted to be…”
The ghost knight nodded.
And what about that knight? The one I was supposed to be? The one mentioned in the letter to have lived half her life as a man and helped the princess escape with the elaborate plan to hide her own identity?
“Oh, regarding her,” the professor chuckled. “Would you have time for another story?”
I'm a ghost. I have all the time I need.
Once upon a time, there was a knight who fell in love with a princess from another dynasty.
The knight was born a woman, assuming a man’s duty to become a knight and tasked to guard the princess all her life. For all her life, she grew up with her, knowing her likes, her dislikes, how she loved painting, or how she taught her to appreciate the arts. She taught her to see the world, and the knight taught her to listen to her heart. The truth about her love was as much, she cared for the princess, and with the princess by her side, the knight can become a woman.
It was a lovely tale, she would dance and play the violin, surrounded by yellow flowers as their reflection twirled under the moonlight. They played under the early moonlight, above the waters like the children they were.
Nobody knew the knight's secret. They were to be wed, but the princess was to lead a rebellion in her late father’s name.
It wasn't a tale full of love and perfection. Only bloodshed awaits the outnumbered group. The knight swore to protect the princess no matter what happened. Whether she was to run away and assume a different identity, or to go into war against the “traitors”.
Now, as the light illuminates the figure standing on the tower window, the knight gazes at the truth. She had done her duty as a knight, standing together with her, even if she cannot be together any longer. She fulfilled her duty as a man and lived her life to her fullest as a woman. The day before their wedding day, it was not the princess that jumped from the tower.
But a story was made to cover the truth. For the truth shouldn’t be known, they have sworn an oath. The knight lifted not a sword to wage war, but a violin bow to play her last refrain. The princess’ favorite song.
The princess no more, the knights disbanded.
Her violin, hidden safe and sound.
For the future truthseekers, should they found the truth,
The violin shall be returned to its rightful owner, just like the princess’ blue gem.
One day, the melody shall resound.
omake
Ghostoni: I like this story :)
Lit: Of course you do, it's your story. Which one of the two casts is your favorite?
Ghostoni: I like both the princess and the knight. Which one do you like most?
Lit: Since you took the other two, I guess the only one left to be my favorite is you. *sips tea*
Ghostoni: *chokes on his bagel*