Valley of Dreams

A dark cloud fell across the Valley of the Dreams. The long dark shadows that once showed from the late afternoon sun now seemed to dissolve in to one impending darkness.

Nothing remained of the beautiful castle or the wonderful princess of day dreams delight. All seemed now lost in the past as the fairy tales of children. Over grown the thistle bushes now seemed to envelope the once brilliant sun bleached walls of the castle. Nothing could bring back the place that once was.

Only a miracle of the fates was left to preserve what wondrous treasures that the faith in the untouched could have had. But all, now was touched and violated so deeply by the scorching breath of the dragon that only the memory of it splendor still stood firm. The naiveté, a kingdom built on clouds and moonbeams, where all dark clouds had silver linings and all rain showers were followed by colorful rainbows.

This was all gone now. All the colors now paled in the darkness of the never lifting black and white world that now existed in its place. Never again would great crowds of people dancing and rejoicing fill the courtyards. It was amazing what awful damage was left behind by the dragon. even though it too was now gone from the valley. Not that it mattered anymore as there was no one there to notice its coming and going. No one to scream its arrival or sound the alarm of the trumpets as the brave knights set off in their full armor ready to do the battle with the terrible creature.

All the knights were gone. Hard to believe that such a short time ago the valley was green with life and the scurrying children filled the yards chasing their pets and playing with the maypole. Hard to remember now were the tales of the far off lands that the knights would gather around the fire light in the evenings and share amongst themselves. Speaking so bravely of the new adventures they planned and heard of.

Looking now through the tangle of weeds, that were the only thing fit now to grow in the darkness, you could see the gray walls of the castle. The once majestic towers still standing, yet in ruin. One could almost hear the hounds as the horsemen chased after some poor unfortunate beast.

It didn’t matter much any more. No one noticed, no one cared what happened in the Valley of the Dreams. It was all lost now. Part of the past to be spoken of in quiet circles of memory sharers. The old ones that everyone thought foolish would share the tales now. The common people would remember the old ways and the beautiful castle. As the children listening would laugh at them, turning their backs on the wonders of what once was. So what difference did the one valley make anyway? Just one more story for the old ones. No one cared any more of those days of simple joys. Of a more wonderful time when families shared the generations within the walls. When the princesses and princes spoiled with their riches would scream at the servants. Torturing their ears. That tradition with the rest was all gone now for the memory of what once was. So what did it matter anyway. All and all, the saddest thing was… it really didn’t.

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