In the heart of Ajari, a kingdom nestled amidst rolling hills and dense forests stretching towards its southern borders, the air was alive with the scent of spices, roasted flesh, various wines, and the sounds of laughter. It was a time of celebration, a momentous occasion that called for a feast unlike any other
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of rose colours and gold, the people of Ajari gathered in the palace estate, their faces alight with anticipation. At the center of it all stood a long wooden table, its surface laden with a bounty of culinary delights.
Roasted meats, glazed with honey and infused with fragrant herbs, took pride of place at the head of the table, surrounded by an array of savory dishes. Skewers of tender kebabs, dripping with juices, beckoned to hungry revelers, while pots of stew bubbled and simmered over open fires, their rich aromas wafting through the air.
But it was not only savory dishes that adorned the feast table. Towering pyramids of fresh fruit, their colors a riot of reds, oranges, and yellows, provided a refreshing contrast to the hearty fare. Bowls of steaming grain foods and couscous, flecked with almonds and raisins, added a touch of indulgence to the feast.
As the people gathered around the table, their voices rising in joyful chatter, musicians took their places on a nearby stage, their instruments poised and ready. The beat of drums mingled with the trill of flutes, creating a melody that seemed to dance on the evening breeze.
The village elder stepped forward with a flourish, his voice booming with authority as he welcomed the assembled guests. He spoke of the harvest season, of the blessings bestowed upon their land, the bonds that united them as a community. Furthermore, he eloquently expressed the purpose behind their joyous assembly that evening - the imminent union of Ona, the Ajarian king's daughter, with Didé, the esteemed crown prince of Idollo, slated for the morrow.
With a nod from the Ajarian king seated on his tigerhead throne, the feast began in earnest. Plates were filled with generous helpings of food, cups were raised in toast, and the palace compound erupted into a cacophony of laughter and merriment. Young and old alike danced beneath the starlit sky, their spirits buoyed by the camaraderie of the occasion.
Ona stared out the window of her room, down at the courtyard below, consumed by memories of the five relentless years that had elapsed. In the arrogance of her youth, she once believed herself impervious to the winds of change. Despite her awareness of her father's war with the Isaka and Ruteba, the coastal kingdoms of the west, she cocooned herself in delusion, convinced it wouldn't touch their lives. Even as Isakan warriors besieged their walls, she clung to false optimism, refusing to acknowledge the looming threat. Until the bitter end, Ona clung to the unwavering certainty of her father's triumph in the war —with the indispensable aid of King Zauzau II, the high king of Idollo, of course.
Her heart raced with the weight of an impending choice, knowing that once made, it would seal her fate like a tomb's iron gate. She would be Didé's bride, and she will be the messiah of her kingdom and a beloved crown princess of Idollo.
She thought of Didé. It had been nearly a decade since she last saw him. As she sifted through the dusty loft of her memories, she stumbled upon something locked away: the image of her childhood friend, Didé whose laughter once filled her father's courtyard with joyous melodies now fading into the hazy realm of nostalgia.
She remembered the endless harmattan days they spent exploring the hidden corners of the mystical forests beneath the palace, their imaginations soaring on the wings of boundless possibility. He was her partner in crime, her fellow adventurer in a world filled with wonders waiting to be discovered.
She recalled the way his eyes sparkled with mischief as they concocted elaborate plans and embarked on daring escapades. Together, they faced the world with the fearless courage of youth.
But as the years passed, life pulled them in different directions, like ships sailing on separate seas. Their once inseparable bond became stretched thin by the passage of time, until eventually, they drifted apart like harmattan leaves carried away by the wind.
Yet, even now, as she traced the lines of his face in her memory, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of the boy who had once been her closest companion. Though they may be estranged, the echoes of their laughter still lingered in the corners of Ona's mind, a testament to the enduring power of childhood friendships. A childhood friend who is about to wed her.
Lost in the labyrinth of her thoughts, the princess gazed out of the limestone window, her mind a tempest of worries and dreams. The distant echo of footsteps approached, gradually pulling her back from the depths of contemplation.
"My princess," a soft voice broke through the veil of silence, drawing her attention to a servant girl standing nearby, her eyes downcast in deference.
Startled from her reverie, the princess turned her gaze towards the girl, her brow furrowing with gentle curiosity. "Yes, what is it?"