Mythe || Folkelore

⚔︎ 10 ⚔︎

It was different, waking up with my head on Apollo's chest especially after our conversation. I feel so free and whole. I think he does too with the way he keeps stealing glances at me.

I wanted to take my time until I realized the Royal families will be arriving any moment. Despite knowing them all my life, my hands still quiver with nerves. I'm a Queen welcoming them into my Palace for the next week. Not just a Princess.

Apollo grins at me from his spot on the throne next to mine. The King's seat. The place he always knew he would sit. My eyes drift to the seat next to it, my throne. As if with fresh eyes I take in the winding branches that wrap around the arms and back of the stone chair, making it look like it's a part of nature. Something that has been here since the beginning of time, and will last until the end of time.

"Calla, darling, where's your mind this morning?" Apollo murmurs, standing and walking over to me.

"Everything's happened so fast. I haven't ever taken the time to think about what's going on."

He chuckles. "I understand the feeling. Today shouldn't be too crazy."

"Right," I mumble. "Hopefully not. I have faith in the people."

"Shall we go meet with the Royal Guard before the Royal families arrive?"

I nod, feeling the nerves about this event settle a little at the thought of meeting with my guards. Verena, the one who caught my eye, and her partner, Sagira, have been assigned to shadow Apollo and I. Delaney and Denarius, the twins have respectively been assigned to the Gonesse and Allsop families. Lastly, Kieran and Basilius have been assigned to the Kranis and High Etril families.

The soldiers hit crossed arms across their chests when we come into sight, pausing whatever preparations they were finishing.

"Thank you," I begin, tangling my fingers behind my back. "Especially on such short notice, it must be hard to change your assignments. We really appreciate the effort."

"In all due respect, Your Majesty, this is the greatest honor to be called on to protect the leaders of our World," Sagira proclaims. The other soldiers nod in agreement.

"Well then, we thank you all the more for your loyalty. We couldn't survive without it." In unison, almost as if they practiced, they drop to one knee and make an x with their arms across their chests. The highest form of Loamish respect.

Naturally, I feel tears well up, and I dip my head in sincere gratitude. Apollo takes my hand, directing them to finish their preparations and be at their posts when the Royal families begin to arrive.

We wander toward the clearing Folkecrest is being held in, fingers interlocked.

Once it comes into view, I pause to stare out at what our Court has built. A towering wooden structure showcases the trees that flourish in our Court. It's also the place I will be giving a speech on to commence the festivities. On its walls murals display scenes from all around Loam. A grand oak rises up the side nearest us, and I think it depicts Tarlee, our land's Tairsdora. One of the other walls shows the road to Falaio with its twisting of branches overhead that create a tunnel effect.

The third wall has brought our grand palace to life, connecting with the painting of the roadway. The final wall has our crashing waves of Faraihaile. All the Courts have beaches, but somehow they all look different. The sand and waters reflect the appearance of the rest of the Court. For Loam, our sand is a rich green the color of the moss that coats our trees and forest floors. It never ceases to steal my breath.

The rest of the clearing is filled with the carts and tents of our World. Their colorful tops represent each individual Court mixed between the others. Unfortunately, Scle's purple is absent from the sea of colors.