As twilight painted the sky with hues of deep purples and gold, the crew and servants orchestrated a symphony of opulence to indulge the young prince and his spirited companions. The air buzzed with anticipation as the final preparations unfolded.
The enchanting evening gatherings at Salsal Castle were spoken of in hushed tones by commoners, their allure described as celestial and heavenly.
Within the vast open-air hall, sheltered by grand tents, the atmosphere pulsed with an energy that bordered on the divine. Soft beds and luxurious chairs cradled the guests, while young handsome performers played Tambor and tar, and alluring women twirled in a dance of flirtation at the heart of the festivities.
Waiters and maids gracefully distributed trays laden with seasonal fruits, delectable sweets, local libations, and more. A large area of the palace was dedicated to this relentless celebration. The palace garden, bathed in the radiance of colossal torches, resembled a realm of perpetual daylight. In the background, servants and cooks toiled, preparing sumptuous pots of meat and rice for the impending royal feast.
Seated atop a royal furniture bed, Prince Raibod commanded attention at the center of the revelry. His boisterous companions reveled one step lower, each lost in the intoxicating atmosphere.
The usually composed and aloof prince found himself captivated by the allure of a tall girl spinning in the center of the stage. Clad in a delicate red silk dress, the dancer's every movement sent ripples through the pleated crimson silk that adorned her waist.
A blossoming delicate creature, with prominent rose-colored lips, an indescribable and dreamy facade, and pitch black hair dancing in the wind wearing scarlet. Her mesmerizing dance was a symphony of coquetry, each perfected gesture drawing the onlookers into a passionate ecstasy. Just for a passing moment, his eyes enchanted by the graceful sight radiated, yet it wasn’t nearly enough to revive his petrified heart.
Despite the momentary fascination, a yawn betrayed the prince's boredom. As if he couldn’t escape the relentless sensation of anxiety within. He clutched into his wine glass and gulped down several sips without stopping. He absentmindedly scratched his chin, the chilled tips of his fingers refusing to be warmed even by the hangover. In an unexpected moment, he rose, silencing the music and freezing the dancers. All eyes fixated on him as an uneasy silence settled.
Undeterred, Raibod scanned the assembly with an artificial smile. "Don’t stop! Continue till I come back!" he declared, resuming his journey with an oil lamp in hand toward the orchard. Guards as well as some of his close friends offered to accompany him, but he dismissed them with a nod.
As he almost left the lit garden, a dark jungle awaited, more pristine greenery that eventually led to the horrid waterfall on one of the stone castle extremities.
Beneath the shadowy embrace of towering aspen trees, he ventured deep into the half-dark forest, far from the raucous banquet. Little by little, he sank into the gloomy tranquil sanctuary of woods.
The place had a familiar aroma, better yet, a cheering and welcoming nostalgia. The rustling leaves whispered memories of his childhood, a time when he roamed freely, chasing butterflies, guarded by his ailing but devoted mother.
In the tranquility of the grove, Raibod found himself standing before the forbidding waterfall shunned by all. Even the staff of the garden found it terrifying and avoided the roaring falls.
The winds howled, prompting him to wrap himself tighter in the wool cloak. Memories flooded back, and he realized he had wandered to the place where he once roamed in childish escapades. Loneliness had been a foreign concept then, overshadowed by the protective presence of his sickly yet caring mother. He had such congenial hours gallivanting in this very exact place.
And before he knew it, he found himself standing on top of the waterfall once again and listening to ts prideful cries. As he stood at the precipice, gazing into the churning abyss, he couldn’t help to think of his memories yet again. There was something here, a riddle that needed to be deciphered, and now was the perfect opportunity to answer the question that bothered him for so many years.
The thundering cascade was a symphony that spoke of hidden secrets. Unfazed, Raibod descended to the edge, ignoring the treacherous rocks. Seated in the freezing water, he methodically moved the mossy rocks around looking for something. He didn’t give up until a massive chiseled black stone caught his attention.
“No way! It must be it!”
With a determined push, the stone revealed a void of darkness. The prince's cold facade blossomed into curiosity—his expectations were met; a hidden hatch lay beneath the black stone.
…
The late king, Darus Salar, a figure of astonishing authority and unwavering resolve, had ruled the wast kingdom for decades. However, in his later years, the old man sought solace in the embrace of pristine nature, with visits to the scenic waterfall becoming one of his favored pastimes. Raibod, then a playful 7-8-year-old, cherished the memories of exploring Salsal's forest palace with his mother.
During those youthful escapades, he would sneak away from the watchful eyes of the palace servants and venture into the forest. On many occasions, he witnessed his grandfather standing on the waterfall's edge, gazing into the distance with a perplexing expression. The mystery surrounding the old king's demeanor intrigued the young prince, who harbored the urge to confront him. Yet, fear held him back and he never got the chance to confront the scary late monarch. Because, despite the facade of a benevolent grandpa, the great king of the Salar dynasty was known for his strict and cruel disposition.
Now, several years passed, as he stood at the precipice, oil lamp in hand, the memories of the young prince’s grandfather flooded back. He cautiously approached the front hatch, peering into the dark abyss. He moved the lamp a little closer to get a better view, however, he was afraid that the smooth and unpredictable movement of the water at the mouth of the waterfall, although shallow, would extinguish the light of the lamp. It was a gable, go big or go home. So he did not delay, and with a sudden decision, He put his hands on both sides of the hatch and went into darkness both feet first.
As he got in, stone steps beneath his feet felt firm, emboldening him to set foot in the cave— a hidden realm possibly known only to his grandfather.
Advancing with the lamp overhead, he discovered a dark tunnel, barely visible. He knew his grandpapa well enough to realize, he wouldn’t create an uncomfortable uneasy path ahead. As crude as he seemed, the old king had an aura of conviction and intelligence all the time. Surely there is a way to illuminate this endless tunnel.
Trusting his instincts, he grinned and raised the lamp higher, revealing a string of oil lamps extending along the otherwise daunting passage.
“Far too predictable old man!” The grinning young prince muttered.
With a swift motion, he ignited the lamps, transforming the cavern into a splendidly lit corridor.
This lofty tunnel carved deep into the mountain, astonished him. He wouldn’t not that the formidable wise king had ordered the construction of such an enigmatic pathway in the heart of the mountain and did not let anyone know about this secret.
“What’s going on!? The old man must have really needed a hobby to build such an enormous passway. There must be a reason behind it!” The young prince was baffled.
The blend of natural and man-made elements showcased his grandfather's genius. The meticulous craftsmanship of the winding track, with precisely cut stone walls, stairs, and elegant lighting, attested to the hands of skilled masters.
As Raibod progressed, intricate wall carvings adorned the passage—depictions of the king's summer and winter pavilions, royal palaces, and even the faces of the king's lovers. Among them, were the shapes of some royal court women, young beautiful mistresses, and people who were dear to the king at some point.
As he walked passed the others carelessly and detached, suddenly the familiar visage of his late mother captured his attention, prompting a moment of admiration and nostalgia.
The staircase descended for hundreds of meters, each step bringing him closer to the ground. The water had covered the floor to some extent, and the walls were damp and mossy.
All of a sudden, a familiar voice echoed, like water trickling, and the passionate sound of falling. At that moment, he felt the fresh air starting to fill up his lungs at last. and with the final step, he stood on the damp jungle floor, surrounded by the sounds of water dribble and the fervent waterfall.
In the half-lit cave, a realization dawned on him: He was standing beneath the waterfall, on the jungle ground.
A surge of joy coursed through his body. "It's fantastic!" he exclaimed, mesmerized by the enticement of the hidden world beneath the cascade.
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