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Tindor and Remy

 A Tale from the Misty Kingdoms —


Long ago, in a distant kingdom nestled between snowy mountains and fog-laced forests, there lay a town called Ilona, famous for its ancient castles and luminous music festivals. The people of Ilona passed down a legendary love story from generation to generation — the story of Tindor, a noble knight, and Remy, a girl with a voice like morning light.

Tindor was born into a noble family and trained to be among the king’s elite guards. Though strong and valiant, his heart belonged not to war but to poetry and starlight. He dreamed of peace, not glory — of quiet meadows rather than the clash of steel.
Remy, on the other hand, was an orphan who lived in a humble cottage on the edge of the woods. She sang to children, told stories to the wind, and possessed a beauty so gentle it seemed woven from moonlight. Her voice was said to make the trees sigh and the rivers pause.

One evening, during the grand Festival of Lights, their eyes met for the first time. Remy danced beneath lanterns, her white dress glowing like snow, her laughter rippling through the crowd. Tindor approached her and asked:

“From which land comes the light that lives in your eyes?”

She smiled and replied:

“From the same land where hearts dream freely.”

From that moment, they were inseparable. They met secretly in the woods, where Tindor recited verses crafted from his soul, and Remy sang melodies shaped by her longing. Their love grew wild and beautiful — like flowers blooming through old stone.


But love, in kingdoms ruled by pride and power, rarely goes unchallenged.

When Tindor asked the king for permission to marry Remy, he was met with fury. The king had planned a political marriage between Tindor and a noblewoman. When Tindor refused, he was stripped of his knighthood. Remy, meanwhile, was threatened with death if she dared love the fallen knight.

So, they fled.

Deep within the forest, they built a cottage of their own. For a time, they lived in a world untouched by law, untouched by grief — only birds, leaves, and each other. It was love in its purest form, away from crowns and courts.
But peace is fleeting in stories that burn too brightly.

A royal spy found them. One night, guards stormed their home. Tindor was captured. Remy, in an attempt to protect him, was struck by an arrow — a cruel blow to her heart. She died in Tindor’s arms, whispering his name.

When Tindor heard the final silence in her voice, he did not weep. He simply looked to the sky and said:
“They may have taken her body, but no man can steal her breath from my soul.”

He escaped prison and returned to her grave. There, in the place where she had first taught him the meaning of forever, he wrote his final poem, then plunged his sword into his own heart — letting his love become the earth that held them both
They say flowers still grow from that spot — one white like Remy’s eyes, the other red like Tindor’s blade. The people of Ilona named those blossoms “The Twin Tears That Never Dry.”

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