"Who did that purple-eyed freak think he was, catching my hand like that? I guess he thought himself "sooo" cool. An idiot. That's what he is, an incompetent imbecile." I thought to myself as I stormed down the hall annoyed.
Soon I found myself at the kitchen; I'd often go here when I was upset. The old chef would always give me a sweet tart to help me feel better, and a while later she would teach me to make them for myself. She'd always bop me on the head gently when i said something disrespectful about one of my siblings; she was like family to me… But now—now she's gone.
I pushed past the kitchen door, walking inside. I look around, soaking in my surroundings. The kitchen is clean as ever; I had ordered the servants to keep this place as clean as they could, and it was spotless even after my hours of baking, learning to perfect her recipes. They'd come in after me and make sure it was spotless the next time I stepped foot in it.
I walked over to the counter, pulling out the ingredients I would need for the sweet tart. I pulled out some bowls and other baking utensils. I poured some flour into a wide ceramic bowl, sifting it. Next, a pinch of salt and a spoonful of sugar—just enough to balance the tartness of the filling.
I opened the butter next, cold and firm, chopped into neat cubes. I worked the butter in with my fingers, pressing and rubbing until the mixture turned sandy and pale, like crushed-up shells. One egg cracked into the center. A splash of milk followed, cold from the fridge. I stirred gently, then folded the dough until it came together—soft but not sticky. I place a damp cloth over the dough, waiting a while. I fiddled with my thumbs until I felt it was ready.
After resting the dough under a damp cloth. I rolled it out thin, cut it into rectangles, and spooned a dollop of strawberry jelly onto each one. The jelly shimmered faintly, thick and ruby-red. I pressed a second rectangle on top, gently sealing the edges with a fork, careful not to make any unwanted tears. I then pricked the surface to let steam escape. Into the oven they went—375°F for twenty minutes, until the crust browned and the jelly bubbled just slightly at the seams. When they cooled, I drizzled a pale pink and sweet glaze over the tops. The glaze catching the light.
I set the tarts on a plate to cool, taking a seat and opening a favorite book of mine. It's about the history of Wonderland and the first king of these lands, a green-eyed man named Jonalize.
Jonalize was a wandering mage with no home to return to and no friends to miss. He just happened to come across Wonderland; there he found a man named Bluming Cheshire. Bluming had also happened to come across these lands; he saw fit to claim the land as his own, thinking he was the only one to have stepped foot on the land—that is, until he saw Jonalize drinking from the rose lake.
Bluming challenged Jonalize to a fight for the territory; Jonalize refused, stating he didn't want to own the land, just explore it. Bluming wasn't having it though; he challenged Jonalize to a fight every day. Years passed, and he was still bugging Jonalize. He had traveled everywhere with the man; in the end, he ended up becoming the man's travel companion without realizing it.
Bluming cursed Jonalize, saying he'd bewitched him into following him, while Jonalize simply rolled his eyes at the man, calling him a fool. He had sent for his younger brother, Clawed. Clawed was a smart and morally bound young man, but most of all he was an architect. He built the castle with his own two hands and the help of his brothers' magic. Unfortunately, things were not simple. Originally, Jonalize had only asked his brother to build him a humble house, but Bluming whispered in Clawed's ear that he'd heard the man's brother wish for a castle. Clawed was hesitant to believe Blumin but did in the end. He built the castle.
The spirits that inhabited the lands were unhappy; this was their land, and some human had just built a giant house on it. They were furious. So they began to attack the castle with freak weather accidents. Flooding, earthquakes, lightning, and tornadoes, but the castle stood strong, and though still upset, they had a newfound appreciation for the builder of the castle and the mage who set up such strong wards to protect the castle. On the other hand, Jonalize reprimanded his brother and Bluming for their foolish actions and demanded they go with him to apologize to the spirits.
So they went, and Jonalize summoned the spirits and apologized to them, explaining to them what had happened, how the castle was originally meant to be a small house, how Bluming had played yet another one of his tricks, and how his foolish younger brother had fallen for it. The spirits were moved by his honesty and need to make things right, so they granted him permission to keep the castle, but in return he would be the new ruler of Wonderland. The great spirits bestowed upon him a gift from each of them. They also made Bluming his right-hand man and advisor, for he might have too soft a heart, and Bluming could keep those who'd wish to prey upon this away. He was bestowed the gift of blue flames and mind control, and his brother was made the royal architect and bestowed the gift to create any material he'd seen before. The more he understood the material, the better the material's quality; he may even be able to make a human one day— I noticed I had eaten the last of my tart. I let out a breath and closed my book.
"Until next time, I suppose," I stated with a sigh, putting my plate away, leaving the rest of the tarts on the center of the counter for the servants who would come and clean—my way of saying thank you.