Clarice: The Note About The World

A note remembered by Clarice

 

When I was younger, I was a dreamer and a lover of nature. I loved watching the animals in the meadows and loved to listen to the wind and the ice-rains. Everything which surrounded me fascinated me and it still does these days, although I am an adult now. But in contrast to nowadays, I wasn't actually able to understand the world and the nature in a way which was considered normal for somebody my age, for somebody from my Kingdom as a child. Because I was always looking at the animals or listening to the wind and because I wasn't actually focusing on what I was taught, I found it difficult back then to understand the world I lived in. 

 

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Lily's Grandfather: The Dream Of Flowers

A dream dreamt by Lily’s grandfather a few weeks after her birth

 

I woke up in another beautiful dream. For years I had found myself in the most beautiful places one could imagine as soon as I would close my eyes. I knew that the world must’ve looked like this once and I knew that it would look like this again – sooner rather than later. 

 

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Elizabeth: The Decisions Of The South

Events remembered by the young Elizabeth

 

I was walking through my hometown, King’s Armour, searching for him. It was neither the first time I had to do so, nor would it be the last. He did such things quite often, running through the streets, stealing things and destroying others. It’s his usual behaviour and although I should have said something about it, should have pleaded with him to stop behaving in such a destructive way, I didn’t. I loved him too much to leave him and I was too scared he would leave me if I addressed the issues. And so I kept quiet.

 

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Lily: The Story Of The Little Wolf

A story remembered by Lily Montgomery

 

When I was little, my grandmother used to tell me a story every night. In the beginning, the stories were beautiful and calming. But the older I got and the older my grandmother got, the scarier the stories became. The last few stories she told me before she died were unnerving and burned themselves into my memory. Yet, they’re not the only stories I remember. I remember some of the sweeter, more beautiful ones as well. 

 

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