The City of Sorrow

She was born on the day that all sorrows ceased, in the city where the walls reached out to the sky.  The day was called la fin de la guerre, for it was the day that the battle between the kingdoms ended.  The child was rightfully named Mira Irene.

The King, after hearing about this child for months, wanted to meet her.  His squire piped up. "But sir, your Highness, she cannot even speak yet." 

"Then let her first words be spoken in my castle.  Send a messenger to her city.  I must meet this child." The King boomed across the courtyard. 

"Your Highness, why, may I ask, is this girl so important to you?"

"She was born on they day that the five year old war ended.  Her father died in that war.  The people say that it was she who ended the war, that some great power is held inside her.   Her mother named her Mira Irene , after the Greek goddess of peace. Don't you think it the littlest bit strange that a child is born and named after peace and not even five hours after her birth, a war that has been going on for five years suddenly stops?"

"It is only a coincidence."

"I think not.  Now, send the messenger and stop questioning my commands."

"Yes, your Highness." The squire sighed.

The widow and her young child received the message and made way to the castle immediately.  The king was delighted at how fast they had arrived.  "Ah, this must be the famous Mira.  May I hold her?"

"Of course, your Highness."  The King picked up baby Mira, and held her against his shoulder, bouncing her lightly.  The bouncing, of course, caused little Mira to spittle on the King.  "Oh, I am so dreadfully sorry, your Highness."  The mother apologized as she collected the now giggling baby from the King.

"Don't be.  Her laughter is so pleasantly joyful, I'm glad I got to hear it, and better yet, be the cause of it."  Just then, Mira spoke her first word, something that she had heard the King say.

"Laughter."  She scrunched up her face as she said it, as if it tasted odd on her tongue.

The next day, the King invited them to join him for lunch.  They accepted and met at the table in the main dining room.  It could seat 20 people, so the three of them sat at the far right end, with the King, of course, at the head of the table.

"I hear the little one's birthday is coming up." The King said.

"Yes, your Highness, she will be a year old in two days."

"Well, I would like you to stay at the castle and celebrate her birthday here.  I'll throw a party for her."

"Oh, your Highness, that's too kind, you needn't make such a big deal."

"No, no.  I insist."

"Well then, we accept the offer.  Thank you your Highness."

It was a party so big the entire kingdom was invited.  There were drinks, food, games and prizes.  The ballroom was opened and music played and people danced.  Oh, and the cake, the magnificent structure of  dessert.  10 feet wide, 15 feet tall, it was modeled in the shape of a dove.  It was brought out and everyone turned to look at the display.   Since the cake was so big, everyone was able to get a slice. 

Hours later, the King chatted and joked with Mira's mother.  One of his jokes got the mother laughing so hard she had to lean against the castle wall to keep her balance.  But she tipped over the edge a bit more than she intended and her muscle control had gone from her laughing.  Her arms fell loose and she dropped what she had been holding.  They were on the highest floor of the castle, and what she had dropped over the edge was baby Mira. 

The child  tumbled through the air and her mother watched, horrified at what she had done.  A little cloud of dust came up from where the baby had hit the ground.  A scream shredded the air. 

And so, the girl who was birthed in the ashes of sorrow, died in the echos of laughter.