The Jester and the Pixl Queen
You know the story of the Pixl Queen?
They say she was the magician’s daughter.
Her brother and mother were killed in an accident.
Some say the magician’s son miraculously survived.
That his descendants still live.
But, there was another his daughter called “Brother.”
She opened it with her power, a rip in space. A crack in the wall. On the other side was a boy who was herself and not herself.
He opened it with his power, a rip in space. A crack in the wall. On the other side was a girl who was himself and not himself.
She was beloved to her family. He was constantly scolded. She had many admirers. He was shunned by everyone. But, in their hearts, both were the same. Both were convinced they had never loved anyone.
On either side of the tear in space, they whispered to each other. Their fathers were powerful magicians. They themselves were imbued with magic. They were the eldest child.
He had a little sister. He was cruel to his sister. His sister annoyed him.
She had a little brother. She was kind to her brother. Her brother annoyed her.
They possessed no conscience. They each wondered at morality.
But, she was moral. She had learned to fake conscience, to cast her heart in a convincing play.
He had not. He was constantly off-balance, always making mistakes. His lonely heart repulsed all.
She heard: “What a delightful girl!”
He heard: “What is wrong with you?”
She thought: They always expect so much of me. I can’t breathe.
He thought: Everything I do seems to be wrong. I can’t breathe.
She taught him how to play pretend. He taught her how not to be caught.
One day, she told him a secret:
“Sometimes I feel you and I are the only real people in all creation.”
He laughed. “I know how you feel.”
Another time, he said, “You are my true Sister.”
There was nothing in all their lives to compare it to.
Only you hear me. Only you understand me. Only you are not afraid of the real me.
Only you do I trust, you who already possess my own heart and soul.
I want to meet you. I want to see you.
But then, on either side of the crack in space, the accident.
Her mother and brother were killed. She barely survived.
His mother and sister were killed. He barely survived.
She heard: “I’ll give anything to save you.”
He heard: “Why do only you live?”
Her (his?) father’s love transformed her.
Then, when she rebelled, the Others destroyed her.
He thought: Love destroys what is beautiful.
I have lost her, but I am still me.
Others, when they lose their heart, are changed. I am not.
I must have never loved her.
That is why I cannot cry, try as I might.
If there was no love, there would be no sorrow.
She would not be ruined. And, I would not be alone.
He thought such thoughts as that.
