Thesiomy

Chapter 1 (Kingdom Thesiomy)

Flaws are common. They should be common.

Anyone without them might as well be history; fiction. Perfection doesn't exist, it's part of the enjoyment. Perfection is a wish of happiness, life with no pain. But without pain, we have no joy.

If everything was perfect, nothing would be.

The word is flawed itself. Though either way it's something that other kingdoms and empires believed once existed, or to this day, still do. They strive to be it. They try to give it. In the end, it's a waste of time. Lies made of flower petals and sweet silk.

However, no one in this kingdom had ever spoken of perfection, only of improvement. It's what made this land so much more secure and welcoming. Bitter petals and flawed silk string. Imperfect, though lovely nonetheless.

The kingdom had been named the kingdom of Thesiomy. It was a place of ever blooming flowers, exhibits of azaleas and oak trees. It was euphoric; it was entrancing.

The summers were never too hot for the people of Thesiomy. Warmth grew over the valleys like newly brewed hibiscus tea. Though the dawn was cold unless wrapped in warm clothing and woolen blankets. It helped the people sleep. Any weather the planet offered, the kingdom would take gladly. Working their plans around them, allowing things to be the way they are and to make the best use of them.

The kingdom and it's people were woken with soft sunlight subtlety covered by clouds made out of honeycomb and soft grass patches. Each season was met with everyone's ideals in mind. The ground beneath them welcomed them, and so did they. The kingdom had always worked towards keeping the land growing and fresh, even if they had nothing to harvest there. It was respect. No battles and bloodshed came upon the kingdom's grounds, therefore mother earth allowed them to build and make shelter. To find safety, and to give it.

The spring was full of the comforting sobs of the sky as it cried, leaving it's tears to the rooted plants below. The place where the kingdom resided was wonderful and magical enough, though the gardens that followed around the castle were something out of rose-tinted dreams.

Autumn days were filled with kids playing in crinkling leaves. They were often used for the inside of children's toys. The noises made them happy, and everything here was to be used in some form, never deserted. If ever used by a human at all.

Winters were filled with completely white skies that held such soft falling snow. Storms could happen, but never occurred that often. During the cold days the people are informed of comfortable fires and warm foods in case the cold got the better of them.

King Philza had seen it all for so long; all the changes in seasons and weather, yet he could still feel each season like it was his own heart. The wind blew with the grace of doves, and wrapped around one like a loving mothers hug. The rain felt like empathy and broken petals, and remnants of memories lie within the touch of snow. She was there alongside everything. She was behind all of them in some way or another.

It all felt like the queen. It all felt familiar, yet new. He had always felt the empathy and sporadic love from the winds and grass but never this much. It called to him like comforting serpents.

One day all his questions about the fair wind would be answered. Why does every change in weather feel like the queen? A glimpse into her sweet mind. One day he would find what called to him each day; each season. But for now he was busy, held closely by his son's; Wilbur, Tommy and Techno.

As said before, everyone is flawed. Every single one. But this one, even with its flaws, felt perfect. This one was different. At least that's what Philza felt. This one was bright and enthusiastic. This one had no care but to hear the chuckles and laughs of people that made his chest rise in such a comforting way. All he wanted was to adventure and to do whatever there was left to do. And no matter the size of the castle, there was always more. More to try; more to experience.