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The Twelve Blessings of the Two River Valley
The Twelve Blessings of the Two River Valley
The Twelve Blessings of the Two River Valley
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The Twelve Blessings of the Two River Valley

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There once were twelve princesses, who so frightened their father by wearing out the soles of their slippers each night in their locked room that he offered princes a kingdom for the secret and death for any prince, who failed to learn the truth.

Quite simply they danced every night with magic princes in a magic palace by a magic lake in a magic forest that they reached by a fairly normal staircase under a trap door in their room. Where the trapdoor or the forest or the lake or the palace came from wasn't a question the king bothered to ask before he boarded the trapdoor up and married the oldest princess off to the old soldier who had sussed out the situation. But then, that king was a great hero, two-thirds divine however that worked. He thought he had been blessed to live twelve lifetimes. That’s not quite what the Queen of the House of Dust had meant when she’d come to give the valley of the two rivers twelve blessings.

What those twelve blessings did, or how they loved, that’s a story that goes beyond the truth of tattered soles.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 11, 2021
ISBN9780999611951
Author

Crystal Carroll

Crystal Carroll lives in California in a Stately Manor (ok, more of a house).Crystal rises before dawn to yoke herself to her keyboard, before heading to her job writing documentation.When not writing, Crystal can be found traveling, thinking about mythology and language, and living the lifeamgood.

Read more from Crystal Carroll

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  • Rating: 1 out of 5 stars
    1/5
    The Twelve Blessings of the Two River Valley is an original nontraditional fairy tale. Dreams and magical palace delights below the earth coexists with another world with another type of reality and darkness which raises the question of what is real and what is false. The illusions and comingling of the theme of life and death was perplexing. The jumbled characters were like shadows roaming incoherently about, being but not seeing, leaving the story disconnected. It was difficult remembering and distinguishing between over a dozen very unusual names, but then it was a mythical world after all. Yet, it made the story feel rather disjointed and confusing which bogged the reading down. I struggled just to get through the book since there wasn't really anything to capture my interest. I thought the storyline was weak, and the characters were undeveloped. Toward the end was an adult twist in two of the characters regarding sexual identity and preference. There was a resolution at the end of some of the struggles in the story but for me the story unfortunately didn't really work.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Disclaimer: I received a copy of this as a Member Giveaway. No compensation was received other than a coupon code so I could read this work at no cost. (Est. value: 99 cents)Some readers may remember the fairy tale of the soldier who discovered the secret of the dancing princesses and where they went night after night.This work covers what usually isn't told, which is what comes after what is supposed to be happily ever after.The story draws from several sources for inspiration, and is an interesting take on what happened to the princesses once their dancing secret is revealed.Recommended for readers that prefer the original versions of fairy tales (not the cleaned-up Disney retellings), and those who like a more macabre feel to their legends and tales.

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The Twelve Blessings of the Two River Valley - Crystal Carroll

The Twelve Blessings of the Two River Valley

Crystal Carroll

© 2021Authored by Crystal Carroll

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-9996119-5-1

Riveder le Stelle: San Jose, CA

Discover other books by Crystal Carroll at crystal-carroll.com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Dramatis Personae

0 – Old Soldier

1 – Nisan Premiere

2 – Iyar Secunda

3 – Siwan Terce

4 – Tamuz Forte

5 – Av Quintilla

6 – Elul Sextilla

7 – Tishre Kore

8 – Cheshevan Edel

9 – Kislev Danielle

10 – Tevet Esther

11 – Shevat Heure

12 – Adara Nocte (Adar Jour)

Other Books by Crystal

Dramatis Personae

1. Nisan Premiere was the eldest with a queen-bee blessing. The first blessing of her mother, but not the last.

2. Iyar Secunda was next. Never to be the first. With a sparrow’s blessing, she was charming to hear.

3. Siwan Terce loved music once. Later, it filled her with pain that only the blessing of the stars could soothe.

4. Tamuz Forte was blessed to grow strong below the earth.

5. Av Quintilla was blessed with a river’s heart of giving. She answered her mother’s call.

6. Elul Sextilla’s blessing was not love, though that was the kind of story she loved to hear.

7. Tishrei Kore ran away the day of her sister’s wedding. Seventh daughter, her blessing was the luck of the long road.

8. Cheshevan Edel was blessed to be on the eightfold path. To have the scales fall from her eyes and see the truth.

9. Her twin, Kislev Danielle, was blessed with true dreams.

10. Tevet Esther’s blessing was a turtle’s blessing of slowly gathered time.

11. Shevat Heure was blessed with eleventh-hour luck.

12. And the youngest...that one was blessed to have far to go.

The Old Soldier

There once was an old soldier, let’s call him Michael, who was injured in a war. It was not his first injury. It was not his first war. 

Rain had been scarce for some twenty years plus a year or two. Michael was old enough to remember when the summer rain fell from the sky like Sky Father El was plowing a field. Just old enough to remember that. So maybe he wasn’t so old after all 

Since the days of his youth, the crops had grown lean. Drought gripped the land hard. But down in the valley of the two rivers, the treeless flatland was rich in water that flowed from the Sunrise and Sunset Mountains to the surging sea. There the crops still grew. 

That was the reason for the wars. That was the reason people fought over the lean and fat wheat. 

Michael followed his king down from the Sunrise Mountains and took an arrow in the shoulder for his troubles. It was in that moment that he looked Death in the eyes, but the Grim Reaper passed him on by. 

Now instead of being taken care of by his king for his service, Michael was left to wander and glean what wheat he could from the fields. 

He set to walking along that long road that led to Ur. The wealthiest of all the cities in the two-river valley. A city that was ruled over by a hero king, whose name and deeds were famous throughout the land. He’d defeated some giant or other beast in the great cedar forest beyond the mountains. Killed the Great Bull of Heaven when it came to topple his city. Wrestled Death and won. Until his best friend and he went on some immortality quest. In the epic of that hero, there were a lot of stories about Death, really. 

What Michael cared about was the wealth of this hero king’s city and the likelihood he’d find a place to lay down his weary head. 

As he walked down the beaten earth trail under the high hard sun, he came across an old woman struggling with a bundle of sticks on a worn stone bridge. Now his shoulder wasn’t in the best of shape from his injury, but the woman reminded him of someone, maybe his grandma, so he said, Ma’am, here now. Let me help with that. 

The old woman smiled at him. Thank you. Her voice sounded very familiar. Maybe her voice reminded him of his mother. 

He carried the old woman’s bundle of sticks over the bridge and kept carrying it until they came to a fork in the road. She pointed up a dark, narrow path into the mountains where the sun lay down to sleep. I’m going that way, but since you’ve been so kind, let me give you some advice that will see you well settled. 

Since Michael could use a rest, he figured he’d stay for the advice. 

If you go down the other path, straight and wide, you’ll come to Ur, which is the queen of cities in the two-river valley. Its hero king has a very particular problem. She paused with a little shake of the two silver curls that escaped her headscarf. Although he locks his daughters in their room every night with new dancing slippers, come the morning those slippers are all worn out. 

Why doesn’t he just stop getting them new slippers? asked Michael, or move the girls out of that room? These seemed obvious solutions to an old soldier, though he’d never been a leader or king and was no kind of hero. 

He’s very stubborn, as if that was any solution. She gave him a long, stern look. In any case, he’s offered the pick of his daughters and his kingdom after he dies to the one who solves this mystery. He’s been locking prince after prince in the room with the girls overnight to get at the answer. 

Ma’am, if you wouldn’t mind sharing, what happens to the princes who fail? asked Michael. 

The old woman made an all-too-familiar slicing gesture. Their head on a pike. Plenty of princes have found their way there. 

Just as Michael was about to protest that he wasn’t sure what she thought he could do about it, the old woman handed him a leather pouch full of cedar resin and some kind of sparkling dust. When my…when the princesses offer you a drink, don’t drink it. Pretend to sleep. When they’ve gone where they go, rub this on yourself and wish to be invisible. Follow the girls to find out their secret. When you’re done, put a little more on, and easy as a star flies, you’ll be visible again. 

Michael had seen a strange thing or two in his years in the service of kings, so he took the pouch. Thank you kindly. 

She winked wryly at him with a twinkle in her eyes, and he wondered what she’d been like in her youth. The two parted ways there at the fork in the road, she going on the high narrow way, he on the wide, flat easy. 

Michael convinced himself to do as the old woman had said and then not to do any such thing several times on the long road. He thought about it as he gleaned wheat in the fields. He thought about it as he ate fallow fruit rotten with worms. He thought about it as he was made to move along in each place he went. 

Finally, he came to a grand city set between the two rivers with tall stone and cedar walls with some dozen skulls grinning from pikes above the gray stone. The great city gate was capped with the skull of a giant besides. He knew he was in the right place. It was true that he spent more than a moment goggling at this great city. Certainly far greater than any he’d seen in all his travels. 

That was why he took his slack-jawed self to a havey-cavey sort of tavern perched by the docks where the Sunrise River met the sea to do a bit of sussing out of the situation. There was a sign showing a yellow clay cup hanging over the door. The folks bellying up for a cup of brew outside the city walls were better fed than in most cities he’d drifted through. 

When he asked about the fat of the land, he got a scattershot of answers. 

S’on count of the blessings our princesses bring, said the bartender as he poured Michael a cup. 

Damn your eyes, it’s not! An old fella whose burl had gone to stout slammed his clay cup down. I was with His Majesty when we went to the Forest of the Night to take for ourselves the wealth of this city. 

Yeah, yeah, said a young fella who smelled strongly of fish. And you heard His Majesty speak the magic word that killed the giant that sits on our gate. 

That I did. Powerful magic is the word. It’s the reason every city up and down the river sends us tribute. 

Not powerful enough to help the king figure out what’s plaguing our blessings’ slippers, is it? Nor them foreign princes that swarm like flies on our honey. Sniffed the bartender. 

What blessings might you be talking about? asked Michael. 

He means the princesses, said the young fella. That’s what some of the older folks call them, on account of their being some sort of blessing from their mother. Not seeing as how twelve girls and not a single boy are any sort of blessing, myself. 

You’ll take that back if you ever want another cup. The bartender tapped the side of his brew pot. They’re blessings. The eldest has the queen-bee blessing, and she sees that our city is rich as honey. She sees every part of our city well run. Crops come in and such. 

Getting in everybody’s business, muttered a weathered farmer. 

Someone has got to keep things running, what with our king always running off on heroics and the like, said the bartender with a glance at the burly fella. 

The burly fella said, When you say that, be clear. You mean keeping our city safe from those who want what we’ve got. The burly fella gave them all a glare. He raised his cup. To the health of the king. 

Everyone raised their cups. Michael raised his as well. He drank his beer and didn’t learn much more. 

His belly rumbled, which decided it. Michael went through the city gates under the wide grinning head of that long-dead giant. 

He presented himself to the king. For all the stories and the twelve grown daughters, the hero king looked younger than Michael, but then, Michael was an old soldier and lived his life on the road. He wasn’t a hero king with a soft bed in a rich palace. 

The king lined up his girls, each prettier than the last, and commanded them to tell him what was going on. There were some words exchanged between the king and his eldest daughter. Not a lot of love lost there. Youngest muttered a few choice words on how stupid the whole situation was, but was ignored. 

Michael was given a bed in a long room full of pretty princesses who smiled out of the corners of their eyes at him. He took the drink from the hand of the oldest princess. She was a handsome woman for all she had a scar on her upper lip and a broken bend to her nose. Michael’s face had taken a similar batter from his own pa’s backhand. 

Now be sure to drink it all up. We mulled the spices especially to warm your weary bones, said the second-oldest princess with a smile so charming that Michael about wanted to do it. 

But he was no fool. He poured the drink into a plant. That said, he didn’t so much pretend to sleep as fall asleep. It was the softest bed he’d had in years. Still, the princesses weren’t quiet when they opened a trapdoor in the floor and made their way down creaking stairs. 

Michael rubbed himself with the resin, feeling not just a bit foolish, and wished himself invisible. Blinked, and not a bit of him was visible in the moonlight. He followed the girls, he had scars older than the youngest, down into a magical realm full of silver, gold, and diamond trees. 

He snapped off a silver branch. 

The youngest said, What was that? 

For the last time, it’s thunder, said the oldest in a long-suffering tone. I’ve told you that the Thunderer throws bolts when he gets into his wine. 

Michael stifled a laugh. He grinned when he snapped a golden branch and a diamond branch and got much the same result. 

They reached a wide lake. There were a bunch of sleepy-looking princes waiting on a dock. All sorts of ages. One for each princess. Only one of the middle princes looked like he was at all awake, which was probably on account of his princess exchanging a good deal of spit with him as soon as she saw him. Tangled tongues too. Kissing for serious, that was. 

Michael got in the boat with the youngest princess and her young prince. They were the lightest. She still noticed that the boat went deeper in the water, but her big sister told her to shut it. The princes sleepily rowed across the lake. 

They came to some sort of grand palace on the far side. A good deal grander than the hero king’s palace, which had seemed a bit the worse for wear. 

In the palace, there was some sort of party going on. Instruments floated in the air and played melodies. Food just showed up on long tables. Michael had himself a fun time being invisible. He thought it was funny snatching food out of the girls’ mouths. Taking sips out of their wineglasses. Dancing behind them and giving them a tickle with a feather on the back of the

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