The Sun Queen's daughter
Anyway Khim..No idea where i left off.
For the uninitiated..
Just some stuff for kids.
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Freda was a sunshiny little girl.
She smiled a genuine smile and was sure to entice a reciprocating smile on the faces of even the nastiest meanest folks.
She also loved the sun. The sun toasted her, a lovely golden honey and her dark long tresses shone like glittering silk in bright afternoons. She tied her thick unruly hair with a scrap of yellow ribbon that fluttered in the wind.
Freda, a little girl of seven years. The sun-lover.
She loved too; candies and her little puppy Mr. Toasty. But what she loved most was running to her Nanner’s and hugging her tightly, smelling her, nuzzling under her bosom. Her Grandma always smelt nice like vanilla sugar, making her feel all fuzzy and safe.
Grandma sang her songs. Songs which told stories of; the majestic woodlands that haboured creatures of nature, of the music that the winds sang by her ear as she galloped, of the creepy and evil night that blanketed the land calling and beckoning for the dark creatures of the shadows to go a playing with him, of the beauty of folklores told to her by her own Nanner too keeping her safe, while weaving dreams of lore.
These stories stayed with Freda.
She loved these stories, she loved Nanner’s voice, she loved Nanner stoking her hair patting her back.
She cuddled closer and closer and closer and soon Freda fell asleep.
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Ray was the Sun Queens daughter.
Nobody could see her.
But every living creature, every leaf, every single drop of water, every little squirrel hiding underneath the tree branches, even large grizzlies lumbering behind the woods, even the rainbow fishes the swam gaily in the rivers, even the ….
Every being in existence felt her presence.
You could feel her, the warmth you feel as you stand by your front porch, as you skip gaily to school, when the berries grow large and ripe. And when she goes home every night to her mother guardian’s care, you feel too her absence when the chill sets in.
She was the bright ethereal beautiful invisible light.
The warmth.
She was so enchanting and beautiful that it hurt when you look at her.
Her mom made her so; for fear that the Son of Darkness, Shadow might capture her and enslave her in the cave of Abysmal Night.
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And Ray loved to see Freda play.
The birds were slowly awaking.
The Sun Queen emerges from her Castle of Air.
Her hair fanned out. And she shook out and put on her salmon pink robes that spread far and wide and bright.
Her robe.
That changed colours as she moved.
A little wooden cottage, whitewashed with green thatched roof stood illuminated; it was at the farthest edge of the little farm that was known far and wide by the ripe rubies of wild forest berries that grew on the estate.
These rubies that made the bestest confiture preserve that tasted best warm and homemade fresh; on buttermilk golden pancakes. A lovely Sunday morning treat that awoke little Freda this morning. The smell wafted into the pink girly room from her grandma’s brown kitchen. The streams of which fluttered all smooth like velvet ribbons tickling her nose buds.
In her sleep Freda rubbed her nose.
Ray had popped in for a visit. She loved to visit in the mornings.
Waking Freda up, looking through the window pane; letting her warmth filter in; caressing Freda’s rosy cheeks.
Her warmth that tickled Mr Toasty’s little tail that wagged when he slept.
Freda gave a smile.
She breathed in the wondrous wholesome.
She felt the soothing envelopment.
She fluttered open her dark grey eyes that automatically searched for the stained glass fairy that hung by the bedside window.
“Hello, Good Morning”, Freda whispered.
The coloured glass captured her answer as Ray smiled and waved her hand.
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Ray crept up behind the little girl and observed her newest endeavour. Freda had a look of extreme determination and her eyes glinted with fervour and with it a sense of impatience that could almost be described as frustration.
And Ray was right. Frustrated she was.
Freda was feeling sticky and humid, she was trying to dig a moat around the castle that the built using mud, soil and grass with what available materials she could find in the garden and about her large harm estate.
Mr Keats the pruner, had given her orange flower blossoms to decorate the exterior walls of compacted soil. Twigs that she found lying about the dirt track served as watch tower foundations as she plastered them with mud. She had managed to build 3 watch towers.
Her flags were scraps of cloth the same yellow as the ribbon holding her hair in place.
Her childlike sense of beauty and imagination was keen. What looked like a pile of soggy sod to the “untrained and unprofessional eye” with flowers strewn atop and twigs surrounding it, was to her a MASTERPIECE. And she was extremely proud and happy with herself.
Her MASTERPIECE.
But it would not be complete without a moat.
But the moat was taking too long to build.
She had dug out a shallow trench around her castle and had poured 3 buckets of water into the moat but they disappeared before her eyes. This was becoming a tedious and backbreaking task. After filling the buckets, her little hands closed around the hard rusty handles of the bucket for the fourth time and trudged laboriously towards her castle.
And she poured.
The water level fell and fell and fell and fell.
Till there was none.
The little girl was young. The little girl was frustrated and she flung the bucket towards the castle.
“Stupid sun, Stupid sun’s rays. Why you shine and take my water away? I hate you Go away and never come back.”
Ray was stunned momentarily.
Freda hated her.
Freda was her friend and Freda hated her.
And so did the caterpillars that hide under the shady leaves of the mulberry tree.
Farmer Gentry that ploughed the field with with yellow oxen. Even the moles that dug deep trenches under the field never to see the sunlight.
They all hated her.
But this was Freda of the Sun.
The sun lover.
Her friend.
And fled Ray did. In despair and tears far from Freda.
She ran like the shooting beams of flaming light and with it burning the path at which she took but her tears extinguished the flames as she ran and ran. Not knowing her direction not knowing where.
Then when she grew weary she slowed down and rested by the rock.
A rock that was so deep in the forest, a place that she had never entered but warned not to by her sister Glint.
But Ray was unaware. Her hair fell across her face as she sobbed painfully into her arms, heaving with sadness and rejection.
And soon Ray fell asleep.
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The sun lay low and the fields around the farm house darkened suddenly in the bright afternoon sky.
Freda soon forgot about her master piece after Nanner fed her a wad of pork pasty and she got out to play.
Freda loved her Nanner’s stories and one of which was now being retold in great earnestness to her attentive audience that were staring wide eyed at her.
Freda loved telling them again and again and again to Mr Wiggles and Miss Golly over tea by the garden lawn.
“ Miss Golly”, waving her finger at her ragdoll made out of rags from her Grandma’s checked apron, with mismatched black buttons for eyes.
One black and one ocean blue.
“You must never, never, never enter the wood without a sprig of leaves of the silverwood tree.”
“The wood will protect you as Shadow and his friends hate sweet minty woods,” she nodded wisely.
“ and a white pebble from the River not touched by water would protect you from harm if they do catch you and they would gob…”
“Freda dearest.. Come into the house it’s gonna rain.” Her grandma waved from the front porch beckoning her to enter the warm cozy house.
She felt a chill.
She felt lonely suddenly, almost a sense of fear washed over her.
“Coming Nanner…,” Carrying her basket which sat Miss Golly and her lovely porcelain tea-set. She ran.
Behind her was Mr Toasty. He wailed a cry towards the direction of the dark wood and followed the heels of Freda into the safe confines of the house.
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Freda poked at her dinner, she wasn’t feeling hungry. She was sleepy.
Too sleepy.
Nanner went into the kitchen to fetch her dessert only to return and find Freda slumped on the dining table hair awry.
She clucked her tongue and strode towards the limp figure. Stroking her hair gently, she smiled at the child.
The lil kiddo had barely touched her dinner. Her nose was just an inch beside her plate that once held warm mashed potatoes which had now turned cold. She held on to the fork on which skewered a piece of beef steak. Nanner glided towards her granddaughter's side and picked her up in head lying across her shoulder.
Freda was having a dream.
She was wearing her red dress that grandma sewed for her last Christmas. It was her favourite dress and she rarely wore it just for special occasions. It was a stunning velvet red. Its hem was lined with soft frill lace that thankfully did not itch and a white satin sash was tied around her tiny waist.
Grandma said she looked like a princess, just like her own Mama when she was young. Freda was running across the meadows that was thickly carpeted with colourful wild flowers and butterflies flitted everywhere.
Mr. Toast was at her side yelping and surrounding her was a glow of warmth so safe so inviting.
And she realized that within that glow was a girl so pale that she almost seemed luminescent. Her hair was spun flaxen gold. She was so bright so ethereal.
So beautiful, so unearthly yet so familiar.
Freda knew that being. Freda felt her presence all the time.
She was there when the birds start chirping in the morning, when she helped her Nanner pluck the red wild berries to make confiture. She was there when she sat by the swing with Mr. Toast. She was there too this afternoon when she was making her Masterpiece.
But what was her name?
What was the girl that sat on the wings of air and glowed like the sun's rays?
And Freda suddenly felt a sense of Revelation.
The girl's name was Ray.
Freda was laughing with Ray. They were like best friends frolicking in the warm embrace of the sun. The prickle of the weeds that tickled her neck made her itch, so she stood up and started running.
As she ran with the wind , it sang of love.
The love of the sun mother extended through Ray to Freda.
Her mother’s love. Her mom that had gone to the earth with her Papa after they died of scarlet fever when she was just a swaddling babe.
Her Nanner’s love that sang with the wind and of the mountains and nature and lore.
“Sing the songs of the vales and hills
Sing of the love she gave to earth
Sing of Mother that loves you dear
Sing of me that whispers in your ear.
Keeping you safe when danger is near”
She was still the sun-lover.
She was still daughter of the earth.
She was still Ray’s friend.
She was Freda.
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The Sun Queen was worried.
As she swept her beams across the lush landscape, she felt that her beautiful Ray was slowly diminishing. Ray’s energies were leeching out of her,her presense was shadowed by a depth of darkness.
And she was right.
Ray was slumped on that same rock she fell asleep on. And in her slumber her tears remained flowing. She had never known tears, she had never known wet, cool or sadness. And the knowledge of such weakened her so.
Her shiny tresses were dull and matted to her soiled form. Her ethereal glow was now that of burnished dull amber. And the bright light that protected her from harm, from Shadow now no long longer luminated her and clouded her from vision. But Ray was unknowing too of the form that now loomed over her.
Dark eyes ablazed with shiny ambition.
