A Prince's Folly

A Prince's Folly

Once, many years ago in the land of Blendell, there lived a handsome young prince named Gregory. Prince Gregory was kind hearted, without a cruel bone in his body. He was honest, loyal, and hard working. His only flaw was vanity. He loved to look at his reflection. If no mirror was available, Gregory would stare into his shield, or look into the nearest puddle. Whenever he was around people, he would spend all his time wondering what they thought of him, and hoping they noticed his good looks. Prince Gregory spent so much time gazing at himself that the King grew concerned, and asked his Royal Advisor for help.

“What shall we do with him, George?” asked King Lawrence “He worries so much about what
people think of him that I begin to fear he may not be fit for the throne.”

Though he was no older than the young prince, George was wiser than his years. He thought
long and hard before answering.

“What Gregory needs is some adventure, if he cannot protect himself from wild animals,
how can he govern a nation? At least in the Shadowy Forest there are no mirrors for him
to gaze into.”

The old King thought this a very good idea, and sent for his son.

“Prince Gregory, I am old and you are my only heir, but before I entrust my kingdom to you, you must prove your worth as a gallant, chivalrous knight. Journey into the land, seek out danger and intrigue, save damsels in distress, and vanquish any evil that comes before you. Do this, and I will know that you are fit to govern the Kingdom of Blendell with justice and integrity. ”

So, Prince Gregory rode Swiftstride, his trusty steed, east into the Shadowy Forest. For weeks he saw nothing but wild animals and the occasional deserted shack. After a month of uneventful traveling, the prince finally had an opportunity to prove his worth.

While he was gazing at his reflection in a small pond, a ferocious bear charged out of the bushes and attacked him savagely. Prince Gregory dropped his comb and grabbed his sword, rolling quickly out of the beast’s reach. Its monstrous paw descended toward Gregory’s head as he brought his shield up to block. Skillfully, he slid his sword between the creature’s strong ribs, puncturing the lungs, and after one last crazed roar, the bear toppled down beside the victorious prince.

The next day, Prince Gregory continued his journey with renewed vigor. He felt very proud
of himself, for only powerful warriors without a care in the world killed savage beasts.

“Yes,” he thought, “I must be a very fine fellow indeed!”

Presently, he came upon a grand city, with walls reaching higher than the trees, and a beautiful castle standing in the centre. He approached the city in good spirits, anticipating the opportunity for people to see his new bear skin cloak. He would then have someone to brag to.

As he looked in a puddle, he noticed a hair was out of place. Fumbling in his cloak, he
found his comb, and began to perfect his appearance. Not a bird was in the sky, and the
morning was still, as the fog began to dissipate. The countryside was quiet, too quiet. Something was wrong. A town of this size should be rumbling with noise; merchants selling their wares, customers haggling, children crying, and the pounding of hammers on wood. He heard only the wind rustling the grass and his own breathing.

Upon entering the silent city he was met by a man wearing a black mourning garment. When asked about the peculiar lack of noise in the city, the man only said “I will take you to the King,” He then turned swiftly and led the way to the castle.

Following him, Prince Gregory noticed that everyone was wearing black. Sad faces looked listlessly in his direction, then turned back to their work. Even the king was dressed in black. King Indomnel stood slowly when Gregory entered the throne room.

“At last! A knight to deliver us from our plight!” The king smiled kindly upon Gregory.

“What is your plight, O King?”

The king explained the quandary that faced the city of Raithslar. Dracolin, the Queen of Dragons had taken residence near their peaceful city. One day she swooped from the sky, kidnapped the beautiful Princess Allouette, and demanded twenty sheep a day to appease her hunger. She informed them that if the townsmen did not feed her, she would eat the Princess.

The citizens of Raithslar loved Allouette and were willing to give up all of their flocks
to keep her safe, but they were running out of animals. Tomorrow was the last day they
could feed the dragon.

Prince Gregory agreed to slay Dracolin in return for Princess Allouette’s hand in marriage. The next morning he made preparations to battle the dragon.

As he was cleaning his sword, the guardsman came up to him saying,“A sword! Ha! You will be killed in a matter of minutes!”

When asked to explain himself, the man brought to light the fact that a dragon spits fire. Gregory wouldn’t get within five meters of his enemy without being scorched to death. What the prince needed was a throwing spear. So, Gregory, not wanting to look like a fool, added a spear to his supplies.

“What good will a spear do you when Dracolin grasps you in her claws and rends you from head to toe?” a Blacksmith laughed.

“What then is your solution?” asked the Prince.

“Armor!” replied the blacksmith.

Thus, while the prince was being fitted with armor, everyone in the vicinity offered advice. Attempting to please everybody, and to look good in front of curious spectators, Gregory heeded everyone’s advice.

By noon he was ready. Laden with every weapon imaginable and incased in shinning armor, he rode out on his horse. An hour later, Swiftstride was lathered in sweat and weary from carrying his immense load. Gregory dismounted and surveyed
the land.

To his right, there stood a large cave with glittering jewels and shiny gold coins
scattered about the opening, As quietly as he could, he walked inside looking for his foe. The cave was covered in more wealth than was
conceivable by man, and right in the middle lay a huge and fearsome Dragon. Nearby, Princess Allouette sat upon an amethyst ledge. None of the surrounding wealth could compare with her beauty, and as he looked into her eyes, Gregory loved her almost as much as he loved himself.

Trying to look gallant, he raised his spear and aimed it at the dragon’s closed eye, but
as he shifted his weight the armor clinked and he dropped a knife on the gold covered ground. Awakened by the noise, Dracolin reared her head and spotted the intruder.

“Ha Ha!” she laughed, “Someone attempts to challenge my fighting skill. Let’s see what
becomes of you!”

Gregory proclaimed in a voice that he hoped was impressive, “You are mistaken, you wicked
snake. I have not come to fight, but to destroy you and all of your kind!”

Trying to remember the townsmen’s advice, he threw his spear. But Alas! His aim was
thrown off by the weight of the armor on his arm. The princess screamed as Dracolin’s tail smashed into her side, tumbling her off the ledge.

Gregory, distracted by Allouette's distress, attempted to draw his sword. His footing slipped and they both went tumbling into the dragon’s grasp. The prince grabbed his dagger and stabbed
it into the tender skin beneath the Dracolin’s crooked claw. Screaming with rage, Dracolin
dropped the Princess, turning her full attention to her annoying enemy.

As Allouette seized this opportunity to escape the cave and mount Swiftstride, Dracolin spit
fire on Gregory, creating an inferno inside the metal armor. As his blood slowly began to boil, Gregory realized that in trying to look good in front of the villagers he had sealed his own fate. He gave one last, hoarse scream as the
oxygen in his lungs caught fire, before he died.

Dracolin calmly peeled the metal off his skin and proceeded to taste a few dainty morsels of charred flesh. Suddenly, she spewed the meat out of her mouth, for it was saturated with the poison of pride. Trying to rid her mouth of the horrible venom, she flew out of the cave, and caught sight of the Princess fleeing on Swiftstride.

Dracolin beat her mighty wings, and caught up to them, spitting fire as she approached. Had Swifstride not been weary from carrying his previous load, they may have escaped to safety. The poor horse was unable to run fast enough, and both Swiftstride and Allouette were engulfed in flames. Prince Gregory’s folly killed not only himself, but also cost the life of his trusty steed and the Princess.

Dracolin flew to Raithslar and burned the city to the ground. Flying into the sunset, she lived happily ever after (for as you know, dragons live forever).

Epilogue

After many months, King Lawrence sent search parties out to find his son, but they all came back unsuccessful. When he died, he gave the kingdom to George, his trustworthy Royal advisor. George was a good king, and everyone in Blendell lived happily ever after.