The Heartbroken Maiden

Yet another piece describing storms in a different perspective. Though they terrify me, they do inspire me, storms. Please let me know what you think!

There once was a beautiful young maiden named Menel. Her garbs were as white as the snowy ground she tread upon daily, her eyes the color of pure sea water. Despite her young age, Menel desired a husband, one to love her for all eternity. One day she met a man named Runya, the most handsome warrior among her village. Despite the vicious whispers about him that reached her ears, Menel desired to be with Runya. She went to her father, clocked in blinding yellow robes, and sought his advice.

 

"My child," he began softly, "Ranya can not be trusted, for while you seek his heart and his hand, he only seeks the bed of many, many maidens."

 

Put off by her fathers' words, Menel apprached her mother, who was adorned in clothes made of pure silver that was tediously spun into the softest, shiniest silk.

 

"Daughter, you should listen to your father." She began. She then gave Menel the same advice her father had given previously. Despite the council her parents had given and the whispers of her fellow villagers, Menel began to court Renya, and was soon engaged to marry him. One afternoon, Menel decided to seek out her best friend Mellon, who had not yet heard the news of the new engagement. Carrying the happy news gleefully within her breast, Menel went straight to Mellon's house and looked around. Her friend was no where to be found, but there was sound coming from the bedroom. Thinking her friend to be lazy, Menel entered the bedroom and received a heartbreaking shock; there upon the bed was Mellon, laying beneath Renya, their bare bodies shimmering in sweat and flushed from vigorous activity. Angered and distraught, Menel ran back to her home and locked herself in her bedroom, ignoring anyone who tried to talk to her on the way.

 

Her gown soon became soaked in a mixture of dark makeup and fat, salty tears that streamed from her eyes, falling to the ground below her. She was completely devastated; her parents had been right, and she had been terribly wrong to believe that Ranya only wanted her at his side for eternity. She angrily beat against the walls, the furniture, the bed, venting her anger in a rather loud violent way, all the while the mortals below her either ran for cover, bowed their heads seemingly in respect to her torment, or merely looked on while the air turned frigid in her hatred.

 

Moments later Ranya rushed into Menel's bedroom, a well planned, often rehearsed lie lying in wait upon his tongue to be released at his command. Despite her instincts warning her of his lie, Menel accepted his story and apology and did not break off their engagement, quickly changing out of her makeup and tear-stained dress, vowing to never speak to Mellon again.

 

And so the story goes, repeating itself time and time again; a never-ending, vicious cycle of pain, tears and heartbreak coming from a young woman who sought love, but instead of a peaceful romance blossoming in the spring like the flowers down below on the earth, she was caught in a sticky web of lies from a man who belonged to not just her, but many other maidens.