The Kingdom of Light

The light started fading, turning weaker and weaker. I couldn't resist looking towards the spot where it had just shone so brightly it almost made me blind. But instead of the light, there was a shadow, a presence. A man. He was tall, so unbearably tall. Falling over his broad shoulders was a beautiful, thick, orange hair. Even in the darkness, the different shades made it look vibrant, like light was actually shining from it. He was wearing a white tunic, which stretched across his broad shoulders and protruding pecs, before it fell loosely around his middle, being tucked into his brown leather pants. He looked like a fairytale character. He looked like something out of a fantastic novel. His eyes suddenly met mine. They looked like fire, they looked like the flames licking over dry kindling. It felt like the fire represented the emotions flaring inside of him, like they were so extreme they could burn you alive, so suffocating he couldn't possibly keep those feelings inside of him. His face was painted, kind of like a kid after a trip to the zoo. But this wasn't just a butterfly or tiger face paint. No, this was intricate work, like someone had taken every vibrant color of the rainbow and stroked his face with them, trying to make them highlight his already divine face. The tears still rolled down my cheeks, being put forth from the intense feeling of pure, unadulterated fear. My scream turned louder, every ounce of air in my lungs being used to push out the fear rolling inside of me. I'm not gonna be taken by some crazy man with paint all over his fucking face. And he had the audacity to look surprised, like he hadn't thought I would react like that. His eyes slid down my body, taking in the ropes tying me to the throne I was in. And finally, something happened. It was like the sight of me tied up set him in motion, and the course of action he chose was to step towards me. The confidence in his steps was evident, like he was so utterly confident in every single movement, like he had already decided exactly where each step would take him and how he would move with it. He was elegant but fast; he was efficient but magical. He went behind me, almost like he was floating above the ground. His scent hit me as he bent down. I could feel him trying to loosen the fabric around my head. He smelled like the sun, scented like summer in a bottle, like warmth and ice cream melting. A sound hit me, one that reminded me of singing. It made me stop screaming, trying to figure out where the sound came from. It soothed something inside of me. I quickly realised it was coming from him, almost like he was talking to me. But none of the sounds he made registered as a word in my ears; instead, it sounded like notes, like he was humming along to a melody I didn't know. The fabric finally loosened around my head, and I could finally wet my lips, actually moving my tongue just a little. He quickly removed the ropes from my ankles and my hands. You could clearly see the red marks on my skin, like proof that I had actually been tied down, and tied down hard. It was proof that I hadn't just resigned myself to my fate, but that I had actually tried to get away. Behind me, he loosened the ropes around my middle as well, making it possible for me to finally move my aching body. Run! Before I could second-guess my thought, I started running. I jumped down from the stage they had put me on. My legs were practically numb, except for the jarring pain of a million needles pickling at them. But my brain in survival mode made my body move forward, even if it was rather like watching a newborn giraffe taking its first steps. As I moved across the square, as far away from the weird man thing that had appeared in front of me, I was stupid enough to look over my shoulder. I expected to see him standing there on stage, but no one was there. There wasn't a tall and mysterious man, at least not any longer. My head spun back, and I just barely got to bring my hands up to soften the blow before I crashed right into him. It felt like running straight into a brick wall. My body reverberated, and I fell back on my ass, pain screaming up my hips as I collided with the ground. Tears started flowing again, as I felt like my life was just about to end, as the fear simply gripped every inch of me, shaking me brutally. I lifted my shaking hands, trying to protect my face, trying to do anything in order to shield myself. "Please, don't hurt me," I pushed through quivering lips, my eyes closed tightly. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't kill me, please." Heat engulfed me, my shaking hands getting covered by big hands. Slowly, he removed my hands from my face, making me open my eyes. He was crouched in front of me, his large body curled above me, but not in a threatening way. His flaming eyes lit up in the darkness, but there was no aggression or anger in them. They were hypnotic to look at, magical, enchanting. You simply couldn't look away. He looked back at me with an almost hurt expression, like it was paining him to see me like this. It was probably the last thing I had thought I would see in his eyes, the exact opposite, actually. His gigantic hand rested on my cheek, warming the skin that had turned cold because of my tears. Carefully, his thumb moved across my cheekbone, wiping away the tears. A tenderness showed in his face, followed by his lips parting, and then the same sound came yet again. Even if it was just a jumble of sounds, the look on his face, the hurt in his eyes, and the calmness of them all made me feel safer, like I could actually let my guard down around him. He helped me onto my feet, only magnifying the ridiculousness of his own height. I wasn't a short girl by any means, but by his standards, I was so unbelievably short. He was probably two, maybe two and a half heads taller than me. I looked down between us, seeing my hands engulfed by his. They were so large as well, his fingers rough, calluses growing between them, but they were still so soft, still so careful, still-almost-loving. What the fuck is happening?! The feeling curling in my gut told me to keep running and then just hope I would survive. Just hope that I would be able to get away from him, hope that he wouldn't be able to get to me. But as I looked back up, his eyes enchanted me. The colors of his irises changed between yellow, orange, and red. Like an actual fire working its way around his pupil. It was ever-changing, making it something you could look into for a lifetime, without ever being tired of seeing them intertwining and moving with each other. The same bright light came back, but this time it enveloped me just as well as him. Fear started gripping me again. What the fuck is happening?! My mind tried-sensibly-to pull me away, tried to make me hurry away from whatever this was. Suddenly, for only a split second, there was nothing but darkness. But an empty darkness. There was no emotion, there was nothing recognizable, there was nothing to sense. There was simply nothing. Then everything returned, like a punch to the face, and I was flooded with everything all at once. The sun was beaming above me, the heat bearing down on me. Birds were chirping around me, the grass scenting the air around us, and I could hear water, like something streaming down rocks. My eyes broke away from his for me to look around, to see everything my other senses were registering. I had ended up in a magical land. The sun was yellow, it was warm and loving against my skin. It heated the cold spots on my cheeks, caressing my face gently. The grass underneath me was tall, growing freely, and impeccably green. It reached my knees, covering up my feet in the flats I was wearing. Further away, you could see a stream which ran between and divided the huge fields surrounding os. The fields were an array of colors; some were green, some were yellow with rapeseed plants, and some were filled with purple, red, and blue flowers. Behind me, a humongous palace was towering towards the sky. It honestly looked like it was made out of gold. The three towers were so tall, they could touch the sun and get some of their color from it. All around it was an array of different gardens, one with a large greenhouse where there were a litter of beds to grow different vegetables. There was one with a labyrinth so low it wasn't meant to be one to get lost in, but simply one to enjoy to reach the fountain inside of it. "Finally, you're here." The dark, rumbling voice that came from him shocked me. My eyes landed back on the orange eyes, before I looked down at the smile blooming on his lips. "My beautiful bride." Like glass splintering, I could feel my mind catching up to what was happening. What in the Stockholm Syndrome- "You have no idea how long I've waited for you." His hand caressed my cheek tenderly, a touch so soft you could barely feel it, but the actions behind it spoke with nothing but devotion. I cleared my throat, shaking my head slightly as I stepped back, trying to break the spell he had me under. My dress caught slightly on the grass around me as I did. "I'm sorry, but what did you just call me?" My eyebrows shot up as I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to protect myself, putting up my only armor. His smile got wider, showing me an amazing row of white teeth standing perfectly in line. "My bride, my partner, my beloved. What word would you prefer I use according to your culture?" "My culture?" As if that question had just revealed him to me, I could finally see all the differentness in him. His muscular and tall body. His clothes, which, as I thought about it, looked positively ridiculous. His eyes, which were seemingly a little larger, and his very pointy ears. "A lot happens in your world over a few hundred years," he mused, a crooked smile tugging more at the left corner of his mouth. But that smile made something tingle inside of me, made my knees weak. I turned around, deciding that it was probably safer if I couldn't look at him. I couldn't concentrate, I couldn't gather my thoughts. He thought I was his bride, which meant he would want to get married, and he would like to get married to me. But that just didn't make any sense. All I could think was why. I turned back around, meeting his intense gaze. Something new was playing in them, moving around the irises, something that looked a lot like humor. "Who says I wanna marry you?" I asked, trying to sound calm and collected. His head fell back in a big laugh, a laughter that could shake mountains, a laugh that made you want to laugh. It sounded melodic, but so unbelievably powerful at the same time. "What a brilliant question," he said, a bright smile on his lips. "Well," he started, squaring his shoulders and clasping his hands behind his back. "I'm a pretty fun guy, if I'd say so myself," which made me narrow my eyes at him. "I'm charming," he tried, that same smirk back on his lips. "And, I'm a king." My eyes widened at that, my body stilling. A king. My eyes traveled over his body yet again, trailing over his prudent physique, the way his face was still painted, and suddenly, I could see it. But then... would that mean I would become a queen? I cleared my throat, trying to collect myself yet again. "King of what?" I asked, trying to sound like it didn't affect me, like it didn't matter to me. "I'm the King of Summer, I command the Kingdom of Summer," he said, spreading his arms, "I rule over everything you see, and more," he added, shooting me a wink. "That sounds made up," I said, narrowing my eyes further at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "I've never heard of the Kingdom of Summer." "You're standing in the middle of it," he answered, grinning at me, like I was the one being ridiculous. But then, suddenly, he got down on one knee right in front of me, forcefully taking my hand from my arm, and looked me straight in my eyes. "Will you marry me?" What the fuck is going on?! I pulled my hand back hard, making it so he couldn't touch me. "Are you absolutely insane?!" I took a step further away, looking down at the magical man in front of me. "I don't even know your name or anything. I'm not gonna fucking marry you. I-I wanna go back now," I said, trying to square off, trying to seem confident, "this isn't funny anymore, and you need to take me back." He got back up, wiping his hands on his pants. It was as if I had wounded him, the way he looked down at the ground, the way he seemed to shuffle his feet a bit. His hair fell forward into his face in a cascade of colors, and just like his eyes, it looked like flames licking across his face. "You can't go back," he said, looking at me through the long strands of his hair. "You belong to the Kingdom of Summer now." He let his hand slide through his hair, making it look so soft and luscious I couldn't help but want to move my hands through it as well. Belong to the Kingdom of Summer?! "What do you mean?" I asked, panic starting to grow inside of me. I had to go back, I was supposed to leave Ireland and go back to my mother in a few days. "You know," he said, his voice insinuating that I was playing dumb or something. "You were sacrificed to me, to the Kingdom of Summer." Sacrificed. I'm officially a sacrifice now. "No," I said, pulling on the word. "I don't know!" The panic rose further and further inside of me, my heart starting to pound in my chest. "I was just on a goddamn vacation!" I looked up at him, my eyes trying to beg, trying to convince him to let me back. But he just looked confused. "I was offered to be celebrated as a Summer Guest, no one told me I would be sacrificed!" And as if I hadn't cried enough, tears started rolling down my cheeks yet again. Help me, help me, help me. A very frightful feeling of captivity floated across my body, the kind of panic you would feel whenever you were in an elevator and it shut down, or from being trapped in a small dark room. I was stuck. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, like he understood the situation, like someone lit a lightbulb over his head. And then, sadness entered his eyes, like he understood the feelings floating through me. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he muttered, looking down at his hands as his fists clenched tightly. It was like he was angry on my behalf, like he was actually feeling bad for this. "It was supposed to... you were supposed to agree to being sent here; you were supposed to want to go here. That was the agreement." A resigned sound left my lips, my hands rubbing my face. "What agreement?" He sighed as well, like this was irritating him as well. "Five hundred years ago, I offered my help to the people, making sure their summers were regular, no drought, no floods, but enough heat and water so their crops would grow," he explained, using his hands as he talked. "De were grateful for my help, and they wanted to give something back." He looked down at his hands again. "There's an enchantment on me," he sighed, "I have to marry a human woman and grow happy with her," he continued, meeting my gaze yet again. "So I asked for a woman, for a sacrifice to me and my kingdom. I told them that they could have five hundred years of prosperity, five decades of healthy growth, and then a woman would have to volunteer to come here and to marry me." So much information. "But I didn't volunteer," I said, already stating the obvious. My brain was trying to gather all the information he had dumped on me, trying to figure out what to do with it. "No," he agreed, his voice turning darker. "What happens now then?" I looked up at him, at the gorgeous face behind the paint, that now looked twisted in anger, like he despised what they had done to me. "I have to go back and punish them," he answered, searching my face. "This is injustice. I should have known when I saw you tied to the chair, when you screamed bloody murder. They were supposed to give me someone who wanted to be here. This is unacceptable." "How are you gonna punish them?" Even if they sacrificed me, even if they tied me to that chair, even if they drugged me, I didn't wish for them to be punished. They had just done what they thought was right, they had tried to save their own, and they had done so well. He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I'll have to make sure it won't go them well, like it has the last five hundred years," he said, his hand moving to the back of his neck. It was obvious he didn't want to punish them. "What if I stayed?" I regretted the question the second it left my lips. Why should I sacrifice myself for them? As if my brain immediately answered, I saw them in front of me, I saw the people dancing at the gathering, drinking, smiling, having fun. I saw the community they had, the life they had together, the ones they held dear, the children, and all of them probably survived on those crops. "You would do that?" he asked, his tone baffled by my suggestion. "Why? Why would you do that?" Why would I do that? I couldn't answer that question myself. I shrugged my shoulders, and he instantly knew, he could see that I didn't have an explanation for my decision. I didn't have a solution, I didn't have a clear thought, all I had was a wish that nobody else suffered. "I can't promise you a marriage," I said, lifting my hands upwards in a defensive position. "But if it'll save the town..." the words disappeared in my mouth. "You have honor." Not a question, but a statement.