Not like the kings of old....

I had proclaimed a Tournament before my castle in search for a new Sacred King to ensure abundance of blessings whereof the prize shall be myself. The knight who proveth best shall serve in my country for one year and therefore end his days as a sacrificial offering to the gods Janus and Cybele. These are the old traditions of our people.

But our tournament has been a slow dissapointment and I shall express my opinion here: our Iron Knight Cuisine Competition has given me some food but no winner. Goddess Hecate and her assistance had not served for much. All the cooking spits loaned from her sequitum and kingdom have not been used in a dignified manner. In fact, I have no idea where all of them are so probably I lost them and shall have to resort to a creative excuse. But now is not the time for complains.

For many a night have we resisted the temptation to run to the next seer and ask to foretell who the winning champion of the competitions will be, but that opportunity had never arrived. Many a night have I hoped to include a good "carrhiera" in the competition. Fortunately, this is another matter.

The Flight of the Bumble B's is a skating competition that will connect eleven towns in our kingdom and could last from 6 hours to 16. The contestants must begin in a corner of the island and end up in front of our palace where the great multitude will acclaim the winner.

Last one I was much younger then, it finished with King Ban coming forth upon the field-ice with more fury, more resound, most slaughterness and prowess than any other while quaking from frolic. At his sight, the other contestants went to the sidelines of the iced-rock lake and stood there paralyzed as they watched King Ban break the finish line.

He had opened his mouth on the spot as wide as an alligator and crushed the french steel chain with such tour de force that I have not yet been able to forget that moment as the excitement filled my face with tears.

He had also a weird mad laugh as I good recall...

But I may not blame him by my faith, for he did as brave men ought to do and is among the best fighting knights of most swiftness that I ever saw or heard tell of.

Which reminds me that we are nearly on the Eve of Samhein and our time grows short. I fear the spirit of my last husband and friend Sir Urience may wake up from his stupor and may try to challenge any knight he sees unable to recognize his form. And as for the wailing of our valonian banshee, I have not yet a counteract for it.

A banshee forsees a person's own demise warning with cries that defy comprehension. It is an imposible act to recounter for many as soon as they hear the fatal wailing, fall dead in a matter of seconds. They usually just die of terror. So, this day is special in that there are many worrying torments ahead and none of them are desirable.

These two are some of the worst-case scenarios for this time of year . But... non abete paura, my subjects and loyal friends!

At best in the event of dead bodies or crazy bats half-breeds prancing around, some of our folk use aromatic gums and golden garlics to rid themselves off their curse and presence. All garlics should bear the Morgana Anakina 's brand of course.