The Celestial Castle was said to have been overpowered by a particularly daunting witch, who has kept the fortress in her clutches.

Princess Laura Salvadian had been doing her daily reading in the East Tower when the evil enchantress had taken control. She had been deemed a DID: Damsel In Distress.

Sir Stavino was the twenty-seventh Knight to take the challenge of rescuing the Princess. At this point, the Kingdoms had resorted to the rookies to handle the problem, as the previous Knights had gone into the Celestial Castle and never gone out.

Stavino was not quite thrilled to hear this. His village was to be payed a fair share of rations if he were to succeed in his mission, only adding to the pressure.

The Knight had somehow gotten as far as the hilly clearing where the grand Castle appeared before him.

The Sorceress, oddly enough, was nowhere to be seen. Not glaring down at him from the tops of the towers, nor waiting for him at the gate.

Taking this with all the salt that the Kingdom owned, he went down into a crawl across the grassy field.

While he could have easily just run into the fortress, this unnecessary caution cost the Knight about an hour of sweating in his rusted armor. He gave up discretion after passing through the drawbridge, rushing to the endless stairs of the East Tower.

"Princess Salvadian!" Panting, he used the last of his energy to crash the door of the observation room open. "I have come to resc..."

With a dramatic clatter, his broadsword fell to the floor. Not from the exhaustion, but from shock.

There, surrounding the fair Princess, were some of the previous Knights, their glowing eyes seeming to stare at something beyond her. Her youthful dress had been covered by a star-embelished cloak, and in her hands and stretching along the walls of the room were piles of heretic books. On the one she held were several Alchemist symbols.

"You're her..." Sir Stavino tried to back away, but she already had an otherworldly hold upon him. The last part came out as barely a whisper as his mouth grew rigid under the spell. "You're the Sorceress."

"You're a smart one," she replied curtly. "coming to the right conclusions far quicker than the last lot. It's a shame that you still weren't fast enough to escape me."

She was now inches away from his face. Had it been like the stories his parents read to him as a child, he would have kissed her.

His fate, according to Sorceress Salvadian, was far from happily ever after: "It's time that I study more of the psyche. To figure out how some people are smarter than others, I will cut open your head and dissect your brain, comparing it to our dimwitted Sir Brom's. Consider this a compliment, Sir."

Laura??

yeah??

"Get up...it's time to get back."

She groggily woke up, squinted her eyes...while she did, the commander patted her head.

"I'm sorry for your banishment, how did you survive these eight years?", the commander asked.

No reply..

nothing.

The commander shook her this time."Hey?"

But he took a few leaps away as her eyes turned a bright red.

An evil grin broke into her face.

"You just made me remember the worst years of my life...time to pay"

The hidden men charged on Laura, from every direction...

"STOP!!!"...the commander yelled, but he knew Laura had turned COMPLETELY evil, and how the sorcerer's method of banishment didn't work on softening her heart.

...and also he was too late.

The weapons injured her greatly, and she fell to the ground.

Her eyes closed, and she went away.

The commander sobbed silently. "Sorry ,daughter."

The helper sat across the annalist under the bright sun of noon. A quiet wind flowed, wafting the parchment which lay on the annalist's lap. The wind carried lime and sand from the nearby construction site.

Workers were diligently working to finish a four storey house. The building was going to be a home to help people like the helper, Damian.

Damian had no home. Now, he might.

The annalist's case was different, however. He lived in the northern annex of the Celestial Castle.

Boren the Annalist, Master Historian, Master Archivist, Boren the Knowing; he came by many names but each referred to only one man.

"What are you recording now, Master Historian?" Damian asked.

He could see symbols and letters on the fluttering parchment but couldn't understand them. He had never been taught to read or write. His parents themselves were mere labourers, working petty jobs to fill their stomachs. As a helper in the Western wing of the Celestial Castle, Damian had already surpassed his parent's achievements.

The Annalist didn't reply but gazed at the building, his face emotionless. Damian wondered what stories might be unfolding behind the veil of the archivist's mind.

But that emotionless face slowly contorted. Eyes filled and glistened. But just before the first tear could form and drop out of his eyes to mar the parchment, Boren blinked it away.

"What is it, Master Historian?" Damian, who had noticed everything, asked. Concern flowed not just in his words but also his eyes and his slow, gentle movements.

"In the reign of the previous king, such construction would never have happened." Boren whispered, making Damian wonder if the annalist was answering him. "King Hored was concerned, mostly, with his own pleasure."

True, or at least that's what everyone said about the former King Herod. His entire family in fact, they said, had been concerned with personal pleasures. The empire was in ruins and Herod held banquets every day.

"And what then? King and his wife, then considered childless, go on a voyage eleven years ago and never return. And when we find their heir... no one needs mention what happened, right?" Boren had turned towards Damian now.

One of the reasons people confided their feelings in the annalist was his unparalleled compassion towards every section of the society. He considered them all as his equal.

"We don't need to say that, indeed, Master Historian. It's very sad." Damian sighed.

Silence followed. The wind tried to pierce it but couldn't. So did the workers but even they failed. So did the playing children but they too had been muted.

"Four years later, a girl is seen in the Eastern Wing of the Rising Sun of this Celestial Castle, playing with the then, Royality Mart, brother to Herod. The helpers don't recognise her and wonder. The birds don't recognise her and chirp. The sun doesn't know her and keeps her in shade." He paused to catch his breath. "And she isn't seen again."

Damian knew this story but he had never heard it from such a commendable source. Damian heard only rumours. In his place, you only get to hear what flows in the wind. And often, the wind carries mud, just like now.

"Two years after this, she surfaces again but is hidden again. And so transpires the next year. The sun doesn't shine on her. The helpers notice the kid growing but they don't see her. Next year, Royality Mart brings her out of the castle. He introduces to the Kingdom." Boren broadened his shoulders. ""This is Laura Salvadian, the last of my brother, Herod Salvadian's bloodline." The Kingdom welcomed her while some doubted the integrity of Royality Mart himself. They wondered if Mart had kept this heir hidden from the world. But there were worse ailments in play." Boren looked at Damian. "You see, helper? The girl knew nothing. She was eight years old and knew nothing of the world. She only knew her room in the castle and she knew how to run, eat, drink and sleep. Is that enough to live by? In the Celestial Castle, the summit of civilisation, yes but among us? Is it adequate?"

Damian knew the answer but he said nothing.

"So, she comes and runs around. And she gets tired. And she eats a berry. And she dies in three minutes." Boren concluded.

Damian gazed at him. Boren had said that which Damian didn't want to hear.

"We failed to keep her safe, helper. From this world. And from not just this world." Boren muttered with his head down.

"What do you mean, "not just this world"?" Damian asked, quite incredulously. But Boren only shook his head.

"With the royal bloodline drawing to a close, Royality Mart became the new King. King Martin." Boren said. "And he began this construction."

"He did!" Damian exclaimed, glad to have found something else to talk about. "I am glad we had King Martin with us. Who knows how our land would've fared bereft of him. Someone could've attacked and we could all be their slaves now. But now, look at this building! We are progressing!" Damian had heard this word "progress", only two days back.

He quietly puffed with pride for having successfully changed the topic and used the word he wanted to.

Boren looked at him, wondering.

"What does it take to build a house, helper? Does one need human bones?" Boren asked.

Damian tried to remember what he had seen and what his father had taught him. "We need sand and clay and cement and water... I don't think bones are required, Master Historian." Damian looked confused. "You didn't know, Master Historian?"

Boren didn't answer.

Instead, he picked his scribber again and started making new symbols and letters on his parchment.

"What are you recording now, Master Historian?"

"You."