The Midnight Oath
In a realm unfathomable to human comprehension, inhabited by beings all too different yet eerily similar to Homo Sapiens, lay the twin kingdoms of Verochka and Poinsettia. The kings of these once amicable nations had locked horns in an unending dispute, the heart of which lay in the concealment of history's darkest truth.
Verochka, under the wise leadership of King Rudolf, was a kingdom rich with sprawling vineyards and bustling markets. Its people were warm and vivacious, reveling in the prosperity of their endowments. Poinsettia, ruled by the righteous King Lear, was home to enchanting landscapes, imposing mountains, and diverse wildlife.
Rudolf and Lear were not mere monarchs. They were childhood friends whose bitter rivalry had outlived many generations. It started over an oath taken just past midnight under the celestial lit sky, when they were mere adolescents oblivious of their royal destinies. The nature of this pledge was the very root of their discord, its secret embedded so deep that it was lost in the ever-evolving chronicles of time and space.
Misinterpretations fueled their disdain, while their citizens paid the price of their egoistic pride. The animosity reached its peak on one fateful night, where the two kings stood on opposite ends, staring at each other, their eyes brimming with defiance under the very sky where they had made their midnight oath.
Behind an armor of silence, their hearts narrated a tale as old as time itself. They found themselves traveling back in time to that crucial moment. As 16-year-old boys belonging to nobility, their curious minds had led them to the ancient shrine hidden amongst the murals of grotesque monsters and divine gods. There, the Oracle had foreseen the inevitable clash of their future. Ambiguity clouded her prophecy, 'The one who yields under the hallowed night shall be the savior, while the obstinate shall crumble amidst the looming storm.'
Misled by their conceit, they had both believed they were the designated savior. The effort for yielding was seen as weakness, a direct contrast to the pride and power laced within their royal blood. The kings were blinded by their stubbornness that their kingdoms suffered.
As years unfurled into decades and the rivalry grew fiercer, they forgot the Oracle's words until that night, the reminder a stinging slap of reality. They remembered their oath and the Oracle's prophecy. The truth dawned upon them, a harsh beam of revelation, that they were supposed to yield and not rule with dogged obstinacy.
Staring into each other's eyes, both the kings made a choice. King Lear threw down his weapon and opened his arms, symbolizing a truce. A few tense seconds passed until King Rudolf reciprocated the gesture grudgingly. For the first time in centuries, there was no combat, no bloodshed, but a silent promise of peace echoing in the night.
Their feud's conclusion was inconclusive to the world, but the oath they'd taken under the midnight sky served as a beacon of change for their embattled kingdoms. The kings returned, not as conquerors of a relentless battle, but as saviors, free from the bonds of their obstinacy.
The tale of their enmity, their revelation, and their truce served as folklore in Verochka and Poinsettia. The midnight oath became a symbol of wisdom, teaching generations the virtues of humility and the futility of arrogance. Even today, the midnight hour holds a sanctity that only these two kingdoms understand, a testament to the journey from obstinacy to redemption of two lifelong friends and rivals.