CHAPTER 2 HABITUALLY TASKS FOR DAILY RECTIFYING II

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CHAPTER 2 HABITUALLY TASKS FOR DAILY RECTIFYING II

When darkness comes, light brightly shines on the opposite side of Minaera. It's a good day for beautiful children to be born on one part of the world, and a struggle for others on the other side of the planet. These are people, who take pilgrimage in some of the most obtrusive weather.

This occasion is supposed to be a time of joy for the Camelots. But now, even the brightest days turn pessimistic for a nation full of light. Lord Matchbox closes the silk drapes inside Town-Hall.

The travelers stayed on their path. When the 50-year day changes to 50 years of night, the Camelot town-hall is the only building left at this checkpoint. Everything else is burnt to dust by an enemy army.

Fortunately, the civilians were on the other side of the planet when this treacherous event happened. Like most of the cities in this age, the people of Camelot unceasingly rebuild and advance to different parts of Minaera. To them this is understood to be their circle of life.

Lord Matchbox turns around. The room furnishes with six large windows, oval shape at the top and compressed at the foundations.

In the middle of the gigantic room, a long wooden table--with legs short enough for guest to sit Indian style--builds in silence.

The foot of it sinks into a wide-red-carpet. A lion drawn with sprawling wings dictions the word Camelot. The words are written with big yellow letters.

What ills on the table is the most disturbing entity. It secludes a muddy vision of hate. In this part of the room, it is always so gray.

The moonlight fills the corners with light. The sun rises in the east; the colors around the room show brilliance but only with scorned reveries.

Stools ballet around the table. Two people sit with their legs cross underneath it. Lord Matchbox's mother and father pose there.

Everyone calls the Prince Lord Matchbox now. The only way to get a position like that is if a person were granted it when the lord has died and given his or her adolescent the responsibility.

The roach infested room buries its retreat into the unscrupulous buffet on the table.

His parents have been in the same spot for a few months. The smell inside is unpleasant. His father and mother died happy together. They hold hands locked in time.

The reason why his parents were not buried yet is because of the rebellion that has been defalcating for several-months.

The king and queen died wide awoke on the last hours of a ferocious snow blizzard, which kept most of everybody inside.

No form of heating warms the room. To keep from freezing to death, everyone embraced together.

His father--Lord Matchbox the first--closed his eyes. However, his mother has hers wide open staring at the buffet on the table.

Her skin is black and her grey hair changes to a pink color because of the rotten blood marinating in it. Both of their faces have turned inky-sable-black.

His father wears a lord's garment with a red cape veiled down behind him. The couple was never touched by occasion, but left in lifeless motion for some period.

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