CHAPTER FIVE

MELODIES AND SYMPHONY

The sky was dark; fireworks sparked the night, being so bright that it glistened with the stars, its sound incites then fades away until only their whispers remained, a scent of burnt sulphur glided on the atmosphere, the night became spiritual, it became magical, and it became the allure of youth and the life ahead.

The people danced and the shouting of loud songs of praise was overheard over the hooting of the owls, the chirping of crickets. It was everyday life here, where worries are left at the door, nature was being ignored, and the vibe, wine and parties happened indoors.

It was the city of Juventas, the city that never slumbers, where the only respectable time of the day to take a nap was in the morning. The city blessed by Hebe (the goddess of youth and prime of life) the patron goddess, where only the youths lived. The Regent was a young fierce warrior, called Joanne‘d’ arc, she was riveting to gaze upon, with cascades of brunette curls of hair falling on her shoulders, a slim figure and a comical face, that was made primarily for fun and enjoyment of the fullness of life.

She held a feast every day, to celebrate and honor Hebe the patron goddess, filled it with music, wine and expressions of art and wild emotions. On a faithful day, when the night was young, she held out her cup filled with wine. The city's general Sylva stood with her, her towering figure and curious face stood out, her face was sagging around the eyes, with strands of grey hairs on her coffee-colored hair, among other things at the high table, in front of the royal palace hall.

Hebe's statue stood at the center of the hall, made with the finest marble and fine stones, wearing an elaborate dress with patterns, holding a cup, letting the people know who the party monster for ages has been. Joanne watched with admiration of the scene before her, she nods and makes slight moves in contrast to the music playing.

She was drunk, that much was certain, the buzz from within, made her disoriented and very jolly. Bodies upon bodies moved, dancing in ecstasy, feeling and touching each other, finding joy in the simple terms of being in the flow and melody. Joanne stood up immediately; it was time to give a speech, to mark this memorable day she thought, her cup of wine was filled up, as she took a sip, gulping it all in one go.

“Firstly, I would like to give honor to Hebe, our patron goddess,” Joanne began, swaying. “For without her there would be no youth or life, no abundance of wine.”

“Hail Hebe!” replied the congregation in unison.

“I’ll also like to give honor, to the City's General . . . Whatever her name is.” said Joanne, before chuckling. She staggered as she gazed at the General. “I’m sorry, Sylva. You know I love you,”

“You're quite drunk young regent, it think it’ll be wise if you went to bed and called it a night,” whispered Sylva curtly.

“Oh! But the night is still very young, old woman,” replied Joanne. “And I am bright still, *slurp* as the morning in the autumn springs,”

“You're drunk, and quite unwell to walk, let alone to give a speech. I do not want you to embarrass yourself, my child,” said Sylva, with a soft tone, a motherly tone of advice, she was the oldest person in the hall.

“I am not your child. *hick* I'm your fucking Regent! And I do as I so please,” shouted Joanne, her voice echoing as the hall, before it went dead silent. “Is this a fucking funeral or a fucking party?! . . . Play the music louder or die! Oh don’t mind me. I’m joking about the dying part or am i?” she said, before winking to no one in particular.

Then the instrumentalists obeyed, playing melodies even louder than before, the congregation proceeded to more dancing and drinking.

There were foods of different kinds, garnished on the tables. Regent Joanne looked excited, either the songs playing was her favorite, or she was beyond drunk. She ate and chewed the food set before her erratically, and munching like an animal in the jungle, without proper manner.

General Sylva watched, perplexed by the regent’s behavior, feeling a deep sense of embarrassment on her behavior.

Joanne didn't mind or care, call it youthful exuberance or just sheer ignorance, but she knew deep inside her that whatever she did wouldn't have consequences, the people loved her, she had an imperial control over the city, she's been blessed by the goddess Hebe herself.

So it felt odd, the pain that steered up inside of her. It burned and sprang its ugly head in her chest and her stomach. She was groaning and grimacing in pain soon after.

At first she thought it was just the drinking, but it really had nothing to do with that. Every cell in her body was excruciating to feel inside of her, then when the agony was too unbearable she passed out, her body crumbled to the ground nimbly. Before she went down Sylva caught her, holding Joanne’s head in her arms, checking her pulse for any sign of abnormalities. Worry etched on her face, a sense of panic overturned her thoughts “My regent, what's the problem?! Are you okay?” asked Sylva, with a tone of concern, on hearing no reply from the regent she screamed, “Someone get help!” The royal guards sprang into action; they were female warriors of the highest order trained by Sylva herself.

“Carry her immediately. Let's take her to the royal masters’ bedroom at once.” ordered Sylva.

“Lock the hall down! Let no one get out of here, everyone is a suspect at this moment. A treasonous act has been done against the Imperial regent, someone tried to poison our ruler.”