Helen was her name, the name given her by an uncle who would have been King of the land, but for the security misers who forsook him and downed the crown into oblivion, never to grant him his rightful throne. Stephen Blantonship was only the heir to no-man's land. But Stephen in his kingly wisdom looked at his earthly brother Eugene's daughter on the day of dawning birth, and in her skyblue face he saw the Helen of ancient Greek lore: She was sunbright beautiful. Thus the Princess (although no real Princess) was deemed Helen Blantonship.
She lived in her protective arbor, a haven of peacefulness blanketed by love, warmth and parental devotion. Years came and years went; mother Evelyn was angelic in her presence and gave the needed sustenance to baby/child Princess Helen. Mother Evelyn looked in rapture upon the loveliness of her budding flower; the eyes of azure, the creamy skin that rivaled the creaminess of magnolia blossom, and the golden hair that rivaled the shade of sunset. Her Helen was a sparkling jewel that glittered like sunlight on the lake of their Kingdom.
The land by the lake, the Kingdom of Helen, was empty; she frolicked by the glimmering lake surface; she hunted the wildness of a sunrise in tender flower faces; she wandered about the countryside. "But no," her mother Evelyn warned, "you must not go beyond the lake."
And as Helen grew into a full-bodied replica of womanhood, her beauty likewise matured. She saw the forest that dwelled in no-man's land beyond the lake, and she was drawn like a bee to honey. Surely in that wilderness she would find the sweetness, the brilliance of fire that was sadly absent from her island of safety?
Sixteen came upon Helen; she was the undisputed Princess in her arbor, in her motherly/fatherly home. But what of the wilderness? Helen dreamed upon a silken moon, and her heart craved the silvery light that poured down into the night forest past the lake. Was there no more to this empty world of seclusion than to sit idly and dream of the darkened mystery in yon forest?
"Mother dear," Helen implored, "can't I forsake thee to feel the secrets yon forests hold for me?"
"No child," mother Evelyn admonished, "for in that land of no-man is the dragon of fire-breathing futures."
Helen listened, but not with her heart. Inside the deep harbor of her hope lay anticipation. Never would she live the life of peace, tranquillity and nothingness such as she saw in her motherly/fatherly home.
Late that night, past dark of midnight, Helen packed small silk bag and slipped away. She trod the path by the glistening moonlit lake; she wanted to feel the dewy grass and took off her delicate glass slippers to walk barefoot in the wetness. Her long hair was spun gold in the moonglow and she lifted her long ruffled silk frock to run beside the lake, down the narrow path bordered by blooming violets and into the arms of the darkened, dangerous forest.
It was cool, damp and misty in the forest, and her bare feet felt the stiff straw-littered ground. She stopped and studied the shadowy shapes looming over her; cedars, thickened by centuries of growth, were towering giants and she shivered uncontrollably.
Helen grew fearful of the foreign forest before her; she turned to run but heard a virile voice that echoed out of the darkness:
"Helen, child of light, you are mine, you are a brave soul who dares dance dangerously. Come, do not be afraid. I will take thee to the land of desire."
Helen trembled but was in the grip of a powerfully hypnotic allure; it was as if she had always known, deep inside her, that this was to be her cosmic calling. She looked back into the forest, seeing shapes of tree images, smoky mist rising off the distant lake, and the luminous moon lowering beyond a high mountainpeak. But there was no human form to meet her inquiring search.
"Come, come into this mysterious land. Let your sunlit, skyblue beauty embrace danger, my dearest. I have waited, waited eons for thee."
The voice shattered the eerie quiet, and it scared her, yet lured her onward. She was unable to move though, and stood as though in a trance. Her azure eyes made out a hollow cave ahead, and it beckoned strangely to her, the virile voice again urging, "Come."
Slowly, she began to tread toward the opening, her steps careful and measured. Yet still she trembled. Her ruffled silk frock caught on an ugly briar, snagged; she heard it tear but did not feel the lower half fall from her body, revealing her long, slender legs.
Once at the doorway, she stopped dead still. The husky voice whispered seductively, "Come, child of skyblue and dance a slow waltz of temptation. Erupt into a fiery flame when you dare touch air, the air of life."
"Who are you?" Helen's voice was a tiny, weak sound falling into the dark immensity of the cave.
"I am your Prince. I've been your destiny since the security misers stole the crown from your uncle. We are to wed. I am of air; you are of light -- between us there will be the alchemy of fire. Our marriage was foretold in Ancient Ageless Wisdom by TIME: We are to save the Kingdom, but only if you dare dance dangerously with me."
A brazen wind whipped through the towering trees, bending pines recklessly and wailing a tempestuous tune as it swept over Helen. It was as though she had ignited secret sorcery, fulfilling a timeless premonition, and it was now sweeping her along into a dream come true. She walked bravely into the mouth of the cave, which lit into the sparkling, wildly explosive colors of a rainbow as she melted into the irresistible arms of her lover -- the Prince of Air capturing her as his own bride.
Thereafter in the Kingdom by the lake, a new existence was born: Light and Air danced together to the music of Brightness. Feeling was born into a world where only emptiness had dwelled before.
The King and Queen lived happily ever after in their newfound Kingdom -- where risk was everywhere and fueled the fiery friction of LIFE.
