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Wooden houses with ceramic roofs coexist in streets with lush trees and a few shops. In the center of the village, a square with a white marble fountain with flower pots around it and benches made of the same material. A small chapel is seen closer to this square. In the air, the incense burned during the procession can still be sensed. It's a typical summer night. The busiest time of the year is about to begin in this small village. It is the closest village to the main palace. This characteristic attracts travelers. This year the annual fair had to be delayed by three days as some members of the royal family are in other kingdom negotiating, but preparations are already in place.
On one of the benches near the fountain, an old man with a white beard and a dirty appearance appears to be sleeping. He has no home and is probably ill. The priest tries to help him but the man doesn't seem to change. He often interrupts Mass to say barbarities that sometimes are not even understandable. Children are afraid of him. The most faithful think he is possessed. Usually, he sleeps on that bench and doesn't cause much trouble, but that night, as if struck by lightning, he gets up in great distress and runs to the tavern. It's the only one in the village. It's lotted. As soon as he enters, he starts screaming repeatedly: "The dress is on fire! The shadows are coming!" The owner tries to calm him down unsuccessfully. Those at the nearest tables try to grab the kicking elder so he doesn't hurt anyone or himself. The chapel bell rings marking midnight. At this moment, the man shuts up and stops moving. Silence.
Everyone shuts up in that bar. The moment lasts thirty seconds, and then, a blast of sound from outside. The bell starts ringing again. The chimes don't make sense. The horses in the main stable began to neigh desperately and crash into the walls. The animals of foreigners went into a mad frenzy inside the cages. So much was the uproar that some managed to escape. Pigs were running in the street, squealing as if they were about to be killed. The chickens come in through the open windows of the houses. The doves from the church joined the crows and sparrows from the forest. This group flew from one side to the other, bumping into the people that were getting out of the houses. People from the tavern also started to leave after two cats and a pig crashed through tables. The cats were trying to climb the walls. The poor pig collided with the counter, opening a hole and getting stuck there. The owner tries to take the animal off. The old man ends up be left forgotten in the middle of the floor.
The priest leaves the chapel and hurries towards the square. The bell continues to ring despite no one pulling the string. The ballads begin to gain order. It is an ancient melody played at the royal funerals of the first kings of that land.
The oldster got up and walked to the square. He lies down on the same bench he got up from. Amid the confusion, not a soul is aware of his presence or the tears in his eyes. He doesn't give much importance to what is happening.
The priest tries to calm the population that has concentrated in this area. From the top of the fountain, try to talk above the chaos. No one listens to him. The animals' panic has spread to people. Distinguishing the animals from the men was difficult. Men and women were fighting, children, crying, and, in between, sheep, pigs, birds, and even wild boars and foxes trampling humans. The old man sees everything from the bench without really seeing it. Tears no longer flow from his eyes. The moment he closes his eyes, every animal stop except the humans. Things start to calm down. The priest sends everyone home. The moribund man stays down.
The next morning, the priest leaves for the palace to try to speak with the royal bishop.
Two days pass. The population, with the help of travelers, cleans the streets. At noon everyone gathers in the village center, next to the fountain. They wait for the chaplain, who must be arriving. A child spots him from the end of the road. Mounted on a horse that is not his, the chaplain directs a group of two knights on two other showy horses. Behind them comes a chariot with the royal symbol drawn by three white horses.
Stopping at the entrance, everyone notices the stunned look of the church resident. The bishop gets out of the carriage and addresses the nervous village. His expression is vague even though his eyes show a deep sadness. “There was a fire in the palace two nights ago… The fire took place in the royal heiress's chambers. Unfortunately, she had arrived early from the trip and was in her room resting. The efforts of the servants were not enough.” the prelate's voice became cold: “The princess died still in her bed.”
In that kingdom, unlike many others, almost all the royal family is respected and adored by their people because of the way they treat their subjects. Being aware of that turns easy to predict the crowd's reaction upon hearing this news.
In the first few seconds, there was a mix of shock and surprise on the faces of the crowd, followed by the beginning of some weeping and sadness. The only ones who didn't react so strongly were the children who had no conscience about what happened. It didn't take long for them to start crying when they saw their parents' distress. The priest, so far silent, joined the melancholy of his village. Even the travelers, some only know the leaders of this kingdom from scratch, prayed for the girl and tried to console the people who welcomed them so well.
One of the travelers approached the tavern owner to ask if she was all right. She was looking very fixedly to the fountain. Her eyes widened, horrified. The owner said, with a trembling voice: “The madman knew! He knew that this would happen ”. The priest ran to the bench by the fountain and tried to wake the man. A forced shake was enough for the filthy to fall like a sack of potatoes to the ground. The elder continued not to move. The priest approached his face, which until then had been hidden by his hair. A scream erupts from his throat. The guards approach the two and ordered the crowd to move away. From the elder's eyes, there are marks of blood flowing in the form of tears. A whisper escapes the priest as if he could not believe in his eyes. "He is dead...!"