The Wizard and the Thief

It is a truth, some people believe, that a person, being male or female, will dream of such things as wealth, fame and royalty. Lucien longed for none other than to some day take the hand of his princess.

Lucien spent many days watching his love from afar, and many nights thinking about her. There was something about her, he thought, that shone out from the rest. Her voice was the perfect tone and to think about her was what the best thing he could do to pass the time.
Lucien was confident – unfortunately, slightly too confident – that he was able to get whatever, and whoever, he wanted. The only way to do this was to tell her exactly how he felt.

* * *

As Lucien trudged along an extensive cobbled path, a grand, grey-brick villa came into view. He stood between the bushes for a minute, took a deep breath and unbolted the wooden gate.
“Now I need to attract her attention without making myself look too much of a ruddy fool,” Lucien thought to himself. He picked up a handful of stones from the path and stood beneath a window. He hoped it would be the right one, as that was a mistake he didn’t want to make.
“Here’s for love,” he mumbled, and with a haughty smirk, threw the stones up at the window.

“Good heavens, what’s going on down there?” said a posh voice from the upstairs window. A brown-haired, exceptionally beautiful girl lifted up the window and thrust her head through the gap.
“Fenella, my love! My beaming star in the night! The joy, the beauty…”
“Be quiet and I‘ll come down.”

He leaned against the nearest tree to try his best at looking cool and dignified. At once, the front door swung open and out stepped the beautiful girl from the window.
“Fenella, I was beginning to wonder if you were even going to appear,” tittered Lucien, “but why would you do something like that to someone like me?” The haughty smirk returned.
“What are you doing outside my house so late in the evening?”
“Why, I just wanted to pop round and ask you if you would count yourself lucky enough to be my wife.”
Fenella folded her arms and considered.
“First, I need you to prove that you love me not only for my looks, but for myself. I would like you to bring me something special. It doesn’t have to be expensive, nor precious – just something that I can keep forever.”
As he left, the girl ran inside to her enchanted chamber. She ordered a guise in the form of a crow to follow Lucien’s every move so that she could see exactly what he got up to on his travels.
Without knowing this, and with her precise words in his head, Lucien set off on his quest.

* * *

Lucien trudged along muddy streets and cobbled paths, overgrown fields and twisted valleys. The black crow followed him cautiously. Lucien’s heart lifted when he heard multiple voices a distance away but it sank again when he discovered that the voices belonged to drunken countrymen crowding inside a battered tavern on the side of the valley. He plodded down towards the building, changed his stance and swaggered inside towards the bar at the back, dripping with unnoticed spilt beer and lined with a commotion of drunks.
“Excuse me ma’am,” Lucien yelled above the noise as a long-haired man turned round to face him.
“My apologies, sir. Do you know of any markets nearby?”
The barman pointed to the north with one lanky arm and Lucien gave him a wary nod of gratitude. He stumbled out of the teeming pub and headed north. As the barman watched Lucien leave, a wry grin spread across his face. He shrank, swiftly twisted into the form of the black crow and fled.

As the barman gestured, a bustling market square appeared at the north of the valley. Lucien scanned the market. A short, brown-bearded man ran the stall at the opening of the market, selling homemade vases. Lucien guessed that Fenella wouldn’t appreciate that as a gift. The next stall, manned by a plump, red-faced woman, offered gardening supplies and potted plants. Lucien knew that Fenella wasn’t particularly keen on gardening. As he moved around the market, he spotted a small counter in the corner surrounded by royal blue satin which was spotted with stars. It was not the unusual backdrop that drew his attention, nor was it the miniature man with the waste-length beard, but the glinting silver stone on the table.

Before he knew it, Lucien was at the stall requesting a price for the stone.
“This stone is precious,” the wizardly man explained. “It has been passed from generation to generation. It will not be sold cheaply.”
Lucien told the man that the most he could offer was two hundred pounds.
“Two hundred is not enough. I will take four hundred at least.”
Lucien looked at the wizard in despair. “Foolish beggar,” he muttered. “Okay, if you give me this stone, I promise to give you anything in return. I will promise you that very star.” Lucien pointed at the sky. As the wizard looked, Lucien slipped the diamond into his pocket and ran until the market was far in the distance.
Exactly like the barman, the wizard swiftly fled in the form of the crow.

* * *

Lucien kept a tight grasp of the stone in his pocket as the grey-brick villa came back into view. Fenella saw Lucien coming and darted out of the front door.
“Lucien, you’re back! Did you manage to find something?”
He pulled out the diamond and thrust it at Fenella.
“I knew it,” Fenella cried and clicked her fingers. The crow, which went unnoticed by Lucien, perched on the wall. As he watched, it formed into the wizard he had seen at the market. Lucien looked baffled and dazed. The wizard smiled dryly.
“I set my crow on you to act as my eyes,” explained Fenella. “By doing this, I could see everything you did after you left. I cannot love a thief, and I am afraid to say that a thief is what you are.”

It is a truth well proved that the richest of people will attempt at mindless things to prove their love for their princess. It is also a truth that if you prove yourself as a thief, you will lose everything you once had along the way.