The Prince and the Dragon

(Story by  BoSt )

(The retelling of an old Serbian Legend)

Part : 1

In the far off land of Orownoz the enlightened and fair minded King Zonen was at his wits end; his once peaceful kingdom was plagued by a terrible curse. Every now and then a sheep, ox or peasant would go missing without a trace.

Occasional patches of scorched land appearing hither and yon fostered a fearful rumor, though none who had cast their eyes upon it had lived to tell, that a fire breathing dragon was the source of this bane.

In order to rid the land of this terrible scourge many brave warriors were dispatched to the four corners of the kingdom; but all attempts at finding the beast were in vain and the numbers of peasants, sheep and oxen continued to wane along with a corresponding number of brave warriors. The outcome was always the same: they all vanished without a trace, leaving only scorched earth to mark their passing.

King Zonen had three exceptional sons. The eldest son, Joren, was a mighty warrior and an accomplished swordsman and archer. On numerous occasions he had undertaken the dangerous task of ridding the kingdom of this dragon but had always returned empty handed and in dismay.

The latest foray had been a particularly close call, causing the King to forbid his favorite son from ever venturing out again on these dangerous excursions. Constrained from leaving the castle, Prince Joren when he retired to bed began seeing a strange dream. This recurring nightmare always followed the same sequence of events: he was hunting game when he saw a white hare and followed it, but was never able to catch it.

For three consecutive nights the dream returned, haunting Joren’s peace of mind all during the day. The strangeness of the vision, however, precluded his sharing it with anyone and not even his closest confident his younger brother Prince Kezi, was told of this irritant. Then on the fourth morning, unable to stand it any longer, Joren rose well before the first light of day. Armed with his favorite bow and, with a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder, Prince Joren charged forth from the main gate.

The Prince rode as fast as his horse could gallop towards the thickly forested mountain that had its high peaks always hidden in the clouds. His dream sequence played out with uncanny accuracy when he chanced on the white hare and gave chase. The hare fled at lightning speed through the thick foliage, keeping just ahead of the Prince’s mount until the game path it was following abruptly ended in a thick cloud bank. Then, almost as if it did not want to escape the Prince’s pursuit, it slowed just enough, keeping in sight until they both had eventually passed through the unsettling miasma to emerge at a strange clearing. Hot on its heels, the Prince pursued the hare until it took refuge in a water-mill.

Dismounting, the prince followed it as it hopped up the stairs of the mill until it found a high window, inexplicably stopped and sat on the sill. By then the Prince was close enough to notch his bow and let fly the first arrow.

To his great consternation the arrow missed its mark, seemingly diverted from its path. As the Prince retrieved another arrow and was about to take aim the hare jumped out of the window then immediately began to grow in size then transform into a giant winged dragon that soared into the sky, disappearing into a thick mass of low clouds. When it manifested again it dove straight for Prince Joren who, with incredible prowess, let loose five consecutive arrows targeting the beast’s vital areas.

Unfortunately, though the metal tipped arrows did find their mark, they failed to penetrate the scales and fell harmlessly back to the ground. Before Prince Joren could string another arrow, he was scorched and then swiftly eaten by the mighty dragon and was no more.

When he failed to return and all traces of him had vanished from Earth, the King and Queen, surmising the worst, grieved endlessly for days for the terrible loss of their beloved son and heir.

Part : 2

The second Prince, Kezi, was an accomplished warrior excelling particularly in the skills of spear and dagger throwing and he never missed his mark. He always wore high boots specially designed to hold a set of daggers on the outer side. Unfortunately, growing under the shadow of popular Prince Joren, he’d always been seen as an underachiever.

Prince Kezi saw in this circumstance a golden opportunity to prove his prowess. And so at sunrise, accompanied by a small contingent of cavalry, the middle Prince passed through the gate vowing not to return till the scourge had been dealt with.

A week passed and, despite all expanded efforts, they could still not find any sign of this supposed Dragon. Yet the disappearances continued without letup. At dusk one day, after the campfire meal, while relieving himself at a secluded spot, Prince Kezi was lured away by the same white hare, only this time the rabbit turned into a strange apparition of a beautiful girl. He followed her willingly to a clearing beyond some tall, jagged rocks. When the apparition climbed to the top of the rocks, jumped off towards the Prince and, there and then, reverted to its true form as a fire breathing dragon. Next instant Prince Kezi’ was forced to cast aside his sword blazing to the hilt as it’d brushed with dragon fire. Then again being quick on his feet, in an instant he was able to retrieve his two daggers from his boots and, with lightening speed, hurled them at the beast. Unfortunately the fiery breath of the Dragon simply melted them in mid flight. Too bad his spear was not with him. He barely dodged the subsequent fire ball as he zigzagged as fast as he could towards safe ground. He was swift on his feet but before he could retreat to the safety of the crevices within those jagged rocks he, too, was scorched and devoured by the Dragon in the blink of an eye.

Part : 3

His absence was also grieved by the King and Queen but they saw no reason to take any precaution to prevent the third Prince, Stezor, from following suit. For, being the youngest and the favorite of the Queen, he’d been spoiled rotten and was spared the rigorous training of his siblings. Left pretty much to pursue his idle passions he’d often spend his days, to the dismay of the King, pursuing literary arts, and music or mind games.

But Prince Stezor did have a serious side which he, for whatever reason, chose to conceal. He had a deep understanding of warfare and strategy, as well as secret passion for attaining first-class competency in archery and swordsmanship. When a small meteor came into his possession, recognizing its true value at once, he had it covertly forged by the palace smith into a mighty sword.

The young Prince Stezor had also a great foresight, and from the moment of the disappearance of his elder brother Joren, he had rightly predicted the actions of the second sibling Kezi and his inevitable doom. Subsequently, in his determination to avenge them he’d made secret preparations and, one stormy day at dusk, snuck out of the main gate perfectly disguised as a peasant leading a horse drawn cart. As soon as he was out of range of the sentry at the castle gate, he removed the concealed bundle from the cart, unhitched his horse and then hid the cart under some foliage. Now with the meteor sword slung across his back under his cape and sporting a small dagger in his left boot, he saddled the steed and set on in a cantor over the soggy ground.

He reached the rocky point, where Prince Kezi’s contingent had reported him missing, all in good time. Prince Stezor’s intent of investigating the grounds however was forestalled by a sudden heavy cloudburst and subsequent deluge, forcing him to take refuge in a nearby crevice. Prince Stezor passed the night rather uncomfortably listening to the howling winds and relentless downpour. At first daylight the remaining clouds were herded away by moderate winds allowing the sun’s rays to checker the soggy grounds. Prince Stezor was chewing on a piece of dry meat for his morning breakfast when he spotted the white hare beside some bushes. An uncontrollable urge propelled him to jump into the saddle and give chase after the white hare, which suddenly turned into a white stag.

The chase continued through an aberrant miasma that eventually led to a ravine that improbably existed in an anomaly in time and space. For one thing, midsummer seemed to be the prevailing season here. Heavily overgrown, the tall grass and strange flowers brushed against the horse’s withers as it chased after the white stag. Prince Stezor came to a quick realization just then how he’d utterly and hopelessly lost all tracks of time and place. Despite this disorientation and overwhelming exhaustion he relentlessly pressed on in pursuit. When the stag suddenly dove into the water-mill his keen survival instincts took hold and he dropped the chase. Maintaining his distance he cocked his head and his intent gaze surveyed the immediate perimeter. The grounds were thronging with thick foliage and strange bushes that seemed to harbor small game. Suddenly hunger pains gnawed at his stomach and he postponed the chase in favor of hunting the game.

Part : 4

When, by mid- afternoon, he retraced his path back to the mill he spotted an old woman sitting there. With a cautious approach and a congenial manner he soon engaged the old woman in a polite, and somewhat sincere, conversation. The old woman told him how she, herself, had once been a lovely girl, and had been spared by the dragon. He had taken an unusual liking to her and so had tolerated her existence, much like a pet. Allowed to live nearby in a small hut, she had no living relations so obliged the dragon with a visit now and then. Feigning a modest interest Prince Stezor cajoled the old woman with intriguing notions about where the dragon’s secret strength lay. “You needn’t be so powerless, “He prompted her. “Dragons are known to have many wondrous powers. He’s been miserly with you, keeping you confined to this harsh and deprived environment. You can have a more magnificent existence, might even regain your youth, since Dragons have such magical power. Hmmm. I wonder if the dragon would reveal this secret if you managed to lure it to the location where it hides its powers and kissed it.”

After this exchange, the third prince thanked her for her kindness, gave her some of his game and, bidding her farewell, departed; but he did not ventured far. When the dragon failed to manifest at the mill Prince Stezor covertly trailed the old woman back to her hut. He hid within the vicinity for the rest of the day, continuing to spy on her activities. At dusk the dragon manifested by the hut and, as soon as its feet touch earth, took on a human form and invited himself inside. Prince Stezor stealthily approached the hut and through the crack of the window spied on the events transpiring inside.

After her repast the old woman, feeling obliged, did ask the precise words Prince Stezor had persuaded her to say. When the Dragon told her the fireplace, she began to kiss it. The dragon was highly amused by this, then told her it was the tree at the back of the hut. Again when she proceeded to kiss that, the dragon hollered with laughter. Then continuing with his good mood, seeing no reason to keep it from her, confessed to her that a distant Kingdom Voltaren had a lake, which was the dragon’s other residence.

There, in his truer form, the dragon resided in the form of a large wild boar, within the form of the wild boar would be the form of the pigeon in which the heart and the strength of this dragon was hidden. When the dragon teasingly hinted at the real source, that his mythical existence might be the deep roots of the tree that grew adjacent to the mill, the Prince Stezor smiled, nodded and withdrew quietly to safe distance. Finding a secure spot to conceal both himself and his mount, he ate his fill then enjoyed a sound sleep, having acquired the means to defeat the Dragon.

Part: 5

Rising before dawn Prince Stezor set out at once to the Kingdom of Voltaren. Mixing with the common crowd at the marketplace there he first pawned the gold chain he’d worn since childhood and obtained two hounds and a falcon. Next, properly disguised, he entered the palace grounds and sought and obtained employment as a shepherd.

He was duly warned however not to go near the lake himself, though the sheep were permitted to venture there if they wanted. Eager to get started he set out at once with the sheep, two hounds, a falcon and the mighty sword slung across his back concealed under the cape. As instructed he allowed the sheep to venture near the lake. Staying at some distance, he hollered his challenge to the Dragon to face him if he dared. The same Red Dragon emerged from the foaming waves and shot to the sky, hovering in the air.

“Who dare be so brazen as to challenge me?” His thunderous voice shook the very ground where Prince Stezor stood. Steadying his footing he reached across his back and unsheathed his sword. Brandishing it he hollered back: “I’m Prince Stezor, the Third Prince of the kingdom of Orownoz. I’m here to avenge my brothers Prince Joren and Prince Kezi’s deaths.”

The mighty Dragon was highly amused at the audacity and the posturing of this puny human. At first he toyed with him as a source of fun, whizzing through the sky, shooting bolts of fire that made the prince dance. Prince Stezor’s agility and incredible stamina had impressed him at first but soon tiring of this lame sport, the Dragon, in earnest this time, dove in for the kill.

Once more Prince Stezor averted being roasted or swallowed whole with each subsequent skirmish and he even managed to strike back with his sword. Incredibly the blade even managed to cut through the scales, causing the Dragon unexpected pain.

The dragon, growing increasingly more wary of this contestant’s prowess, halted his onslaught and, hovering in mid air over the opponent’s head, demanded a temporary truce for the day. Refusing to forgo his advantage, Prince Stezor hollered his adamant refusal, “There will be no armistice till one of us is dead”. Furthermore he brazenly asserted that, even if the emperor’s daughter happened to be there to kiss him, he would still not relinquish the fight.

This long-drawn- out skirmish had seriously depleted the Dragon’s fire whereas Prince Stezor‘s deadly blade managed to find its mark few more times.

“Enough!” The infuriated Dragon reluctantly broke off from the combat and swiftly dove into the refuge of the lake’s depths.

Part : 6

Since the Prince could not follow suit and no amount of bellowed insults, hollered dares or challenges produced the desired outcome, Prince Stezor in the end reluctantly rounded up his flock and returned back to the palace stables. Early next morning, along with the sheep, hounds and falcon, he returned to the spot near the lake. Once more he contested with the dragon but failed to destroy the beast. The previous day, the King Seku of the Voltaren Kingdom to allay his suspicions had dispatched two grooms to spy on this unusual shepherd. They had returned with bated breath to relay all that they had witnessed. So on this second day, the King had sent his daughter to the lake, with directions to kiss the Sheppard if, or when, he made the same boast. When Prince Stezor uttered those same words during the fray the beautiful princess‘s sudden appearance on the scene and her exquisite beauty did sway the prince from his resolve.

The princess as a willing participant volunteered the kiss and charged Prince Stezor with unusual strength, stamina and zeal.

“What’s this? “

Prince Stezor was waiting for just such an opportunity, with his now invincible prowess and dexterous maneuvering, just as the Dragon dove to devour him, the Prince somersaulted and shot through the air to successfully mount the beast’s tail. His fingers clung tightly onto the scales as the Dragon swooped then veered this way and that slicing through the air with powerful strokes of its wings. Despite the Dragon’s aerial acrobatics, brisk assents to the clouds followed by spiraling, dizzying dives, Prince Stezor had hung on tight and what’s more, completed his laborious climb towards Dragon’s neck and head. In a contest of will Prince Stezor would be the champion for, just as the exhausted Dragon had slowed his pace, Prince Stezor had positioned himself above the Dragon’s eyes, its most vulnerable point. The powerful plunge of the sword cut mercilessly through the scales causing the Dragon great pangs of agony as its blood poured in torrents out of the wound.

“Stop ... Stop it.” He growled and, with the most vigorous shake, managed to finally rid himself of this pest.

Part: 7

Prince Stezor, who was in fact worn out, broke the momentum of his fall with a timely roll and a dive into the lake to avoid by only a hairsbreadth the most serious of injuries. He was submerged for a long while under water but resurfaced gasping for breath and quickly taking hold of his senses swam to the safety of the shore before the Dragon returning from the clouds could dive into the lake.

Meanwhile the blinded and disoriented Dragon, with the blood running over his eyes, heard the Prince’s desperate cries, “Help, Help, I can’t swim!” he targeted the sound assuming it to be coming from the lake. But the Prince had climbed onto a rocky outcrop a good distance from the lake. As a result the diving Dragon missed its mark and plowed straight into the rocks.

The beast burst open the moment it hit the ground and a wild boar emerged from the rupture. The hounds set upon it at the Prince’s command and tore apart the wild boar. A white pigeon burst out of the carcass and immediately took flight but this time it was caught by the falcon.

A precise whistle brought the trained falcon to the Prince’s hand with its prey. The captive pigeon, now in dire straits, beseeched the Prince to spare his life and, to foster good faith, confessed to his holding prisoners behind the water mill which Prince Stezor was now at liberty to free.

“What about the adjacent tree?” Prince’s question invoked deep fear in the Pigeon’s eyes. This is the confirmation prince needed, so he did not press the issue any further.

“Now I’ve told you everything… Let me live and I shall go far away from here and never bother this realm or your family again. “The Pigeon once more implored the Prince.

“I would have ordinarily spared you,” the prince hemmed and hawed, “However, I cannot be sure you would not revert back to the form of a Dragon and spread your reign of terror over other unsuspecting kingdoms. Besides I am obliged to avenge my brothers you’ve so heartlessly devoured.” And with those words he wrung the pigeon’s neck and the Dragon was no more.

Part : 8

The victorious Prince on his return was given armed men by the King of Voltaren and with them he went back to the prison behind the windmill and freed all the dragon’s captives. Delighted, King Seku married his only daughter, the lovely Princess to this intrepid Prince Stezor. After the elaborate feast while many slept soundly , diligent Prince Stezor, bothered by a nagging loose end, snuck away from the matrimonial bed and without a word to anyone hopped back in his saddle and galloped back to the windmill. Dismounting, Prince then found the adjacent tree and uncovering the roots, he struck them so hard that his hands turned red. That same instant a sudden feeling of foreboding took hold of his heart.

With a perplexed look on his face and a heavy heart, in haste he galloped back to the kingdom. Sure enough his suspicions were warranted and his fears became the reality. The entire kingdom seemed utterly deserted. No one, not a single soul stirred. His searches led him to even the deepest parts of the dungeons where he discovered everyone, guards and prisoners alike in a state of lifeless stupor.

And when he touched one, they simply crumbled to dust. With a heavy heart he rushed back to his matrimonial chamber and gazed upon his beautiful bride but when he reached for a kiss, she too crumbled to dust in his arms.

Were they all the mystical creation of the Dragon’s imagination?

After shedding many tears, he rounded up the majority of the sheep and oxen. Prince Stezor then reluctantly mounted his steed and herding the animals through the strange miasma emerged safely back on the familiar lands of the Kingdom of Orownoz.

By then the Prince’s absence had come to light and a nationwide search was well underway. The Queen had fallen ill fearing the worst but now the delighted King and Queen listened with due patience and fervent zeal to their son’s account of his adventures. In the end the King shook his head in disbelief; not only of the bizarre set of events, but also regarding the discrepancy of the timing, for the Prince’s absence had only been two days and no more.


Fin

The Blue Moon Dragon (Revised)

The Blue Moon Dragon (Revised)

(An Original Dragon Love Story by BoSt) 

PART 1

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(You can scroll down to read along.)

Once upon a time on an enchanted island far, far away there was a mighty Blue Dragon, the last of his kind, who inhabited a majestic mountain cave.

Long before he was born a meteorite crashed into this Planet and devastated the entire island, causing a massive extinction of many species including the antediluvian Dragon Kingdom. The Dragon Queen, with her gift of premonition, foresaw this cataclysm. When her warning fell on deaf ears, she arranged to have both of her precious blue and green eggs stored with the necessary provisions deep in the caverns of a mighty mountain. No one could have imagined that the scale of devastation and upheaval would be so catastrophic and far-reaching; hence they all perished leaving the land barren for many centuries to come. Meanwhile of the two eggs carefully stored in the depths of the mighty cave only one had survived to hatch. The blue dragon therefore was born into a lonely existence and grew up fending for himself. Eventually the land recovered and other life-forms began to thrive in this rich, pristine environment.

The blue dragon, now grown larger still, with his giant wings often soared through the skies in search of food, longing to find evidence of other dragons.

During his searches when earthquakes, landslides or other such catastrophes unearthed the remnants of the ancient Dragon civilization he discovered vast stores of knowledge that revealed the cosmic secrets of the universe and the gateway to the many other worlds that lay beyond the mystical sea surrounding his world. Unfortunately he also came to realize that he was alone, and would be alone forever, as the Age of Dragons had come to an end. Rage and sorrow took hold of him and the explosive energy he unleashed very nearly destroyed the island once again.

He regained his senses just in time. Coming to grips with reality, he settled down and searched the surviving stores of knowledge, assimilating this vast information in gradual segments. Meanwhile he’d already learned purely by accident that close proximity to the sun always helped to regenerate him. Proximity to the moon pacified his senses and, by the same token, he discovered the joys of meditative serenity.

As he grew in maturity, possessing more knowledge now, he ventured through the doorways to other existing worlds. On these many excursions, he discovered other lands over the mystic seas, realms that were populated by strange flora and creatures. Further and further he went searching for adventure or, perhaps, a likely companion. He was innately precautious and concealed his presence well. By this time he’d acquired many mystical powers. Beside that of concealment, he was now able to shape-shift into other living forms, however large or small. This made him bolder as he integrated into still stranger circumstances, such as those of the two-legged human creatures.

He mingled among them learning their complex structures of dialogue, barter, social etiquettes and their varied rules of governance. He found that, with practice, he could maintain his disguise for longer and longer periods, but never longer than a span of one night. His concealment was also more effective at night, for sunshine was too invigorating for him to constrain his powers.

End of Part 1

PART 2

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Once at dusk while flying over a well fortified powerful kingdom a strange sound wafted to his ears and, looking down, he spotted well manicured lawns and gardens with carefully structured pools and bridges. He’d never seen so fine a garden and so he swooped silently down and, as soon as his feet touched a branch, he transformed himself into a songbird.

It was a fine summer’s twilight with a light breeze that invited all beings into the outdoors. A group of people were laughing and chattering, advancing towards the tree he was perched on. He withdrew to the cover of thicker foliage to observe unheeded the small entourage now setting up a picnic down below.

The one among them standing to the side was particularly appealing. For one thing she had flawless white porcelain skin and was finely dressed. Her cascading golden hair was carefully managed with brilliant gems that gleamed like many stars in the full moonlight. She held a bouquet of flowers to her bosom so fragrant that it wooed his senses. The others, like flittering butterflies, rallied around her attempting to make her jovial and content. This somewhat amused the Dragon and he watched their behaviour and hers without tiring of it for the entire length of their gathering. When they prepared to leave he at once made himself invisible and followed after. His curiosity led him all the way back to her quarters but, seeing that they all went to bed, he reluctantly took his leave, flying out the open window. But at least he knew where this interesting creature dwelled, and he promised himself to return the next nightfall.

At first he was content watching her from afar in disguise but, bit by bit, he became smitten with her strange but sweet ways. By then he understood more of the ways of humans and how he might win her affections. Fortunately, she valued her time alone and often would send her attendants away on some fool’s errand just to gain some solitary, quiet moments by herself. Often she managed to sneak away at the conclusion of dinner to spend a tranquil period in the library. At other times she contrived to spend a few moments outside among the beds of flowers, leaning her back to a tree in contemplative repose. It was on one such occasion when the Blue Dragon decided at long last to approach her.

Desiring not to frighten her and wishing for a favorable response, he first transformed himself into a human male. He’d seen certain illustrations in poetry books, specific figures that she expressed some interest in, therefore he fashioned himself into a mixture of those features she liked best: a youth of similar age, rather handsome and dressed in fineries. He even picked a name for himself: Maviaku Brug, which translates as, ‘Blue Moon Dragon’.

He knew enough of the rules of propriety not to manifest and accost her in her private quarters, so he waited for an opportunity when she retreated into the garden seeking some solitude. Their first meeting was somewhat awkward and, regrettably still caused her a fright. But he soon talked his way out of it and won her confidence with his charm and wit.

In time, during many more clandestine encounters, as they discovered they had the same zest for life and innocent fondness for adventure, they grew much more attached to each other. Of course all during the exchange they’d maintained the strictest propriety and observed proper decorum, thus nothing untoward or improper transpired between the two. This platonic love however had grown from bud to blossom soon possessing both their heart and soul. Eventually when Maviaku Brug revealed his true form to her, he was delighted to find it made no difference at all. Meanwhile he was now free to not only share his innermost qualms but also, on the plus side, the multitude of advantages and joys that come with being a dragon.

Often, on her insistence, she was whisked away into the clouds riding on his back to view the world in a new thrilling way, an elation she could never have experienced without him. She was so happy then, that all else, all mundane earthly matters simply vanished in a puff. Hours spent with him simply melted away but when he was absent her heart pained with that unbearable longing for his company.

One fine evening, while resting on a strange high meadow by a spring, he reached forward and gently clasped her hand and looked questioningly deep into her eyes. No words were necessary, she simply nodded her assent and from that moment on they were bonded forever.

With a shy smile he drew a small packet from his robe, wrapped in a blue cloth that shimmered as if with the light of many stars. When she opened it she saw it was a figurine of a songbird.

Looking lovingly into her eyes Maviaku explained its meaning, “It is made from the stones of the Moon, where I stay when I want to be close to you, and it is shaped like the songbird I became when I observed you and your attendants in the courtyard that first evening. Keep it to remind yourself of me, and my eternal love for you.”

“I shall cherish it forever. “ She kissed the bird’s beak then reached forward to lovingly hold his hand.

End of Part 2

PART 3

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Unfortunately all good things must come to an end. One stormy night their closely guarded secret was discovered by a jealous attendant and, when promptly brought to the attention of His Majesty, his fury knew no bounds. He had three sons but only one daughter and now his darling daughter had being sullied by this, this dastardly intruder.

Immediately, a trap was devised to capture this brazen interloper. When the opportunity struck armed guards descended on him. Maviaku Brug could have transformed himself into his true form and incinerated them all, but he was far too concerned for the Princess’ well being, so he allowed himself be captured and brought in chains before his Majesty.

The King was in a murderous mood, and could not be reasoned with. Despite severe beating and torture the truth could not be attained, yet a most heinous, ruthless punishment was pronounced upon the presumed culprit. Badly bruised, bleeding profusely with many ribs and bones broken (for in this form he was as vulnerable as any human was) Maviaku was dragged outside by his chains for the administration of his harsh punishment. As soon as he was outside of the audience hall he was able to use his skills and simply vanished into thin air.

The poor guards unfortunately were made to suffer for their failure. Meanwhile the Princess was confined to new quarters high up in a tower and this time, placed under close scrutiny. She was watched day and night as the general consensus was that she was under the spell of a malevolent sorcerer.

For the good part of the year she was a virtual prisoner, never allowed a moment’s peace in all that time, nor was she left alone for a single moment. Day after day, month after month, the attending Priests and palace doctors had came to and fro, at first keeping her heavily sedated then gradually endowing her with small portions of added liberties.

She was eventually allowed to return to her more luxurious former quarters after she pretended she had been cured from the paranormal malady. Despite all their persuasive methods and medicinal concoctions they forced to ingest, however, deep within her soul and heart she’d maintained the seeds of affection for her beloved Maviaku. When things grew unbearable she drew strength from her memories of times shared with him. This source of happiness, the like of which she’d never known, was, after all, inexhaustible. So long as she drew breath she knew she could never forsake him for he, her first true love, was already an inseparable part of her being.

                                                                                      ~

Three nights hence would be the second full moon of the last month of the year, also known as a Blue Moon. Theirs was a superstitious nation, so many candles were lit and the residual smoke from the burning of incense imbued with scent crafted to scare away evil, permeated the air till dawn. Meanwhile, the Priests beat drums and held prayer sessions and sacrifices to appease the wandering evil spirits of the Blue Moon.

As soon as dusk fell, confident in their measures to rid the Palace of the least evil, exhausted from vigorous day’s activities, all denizens of the Palace and city had fallen into deep slumber peacefully tucked under warm quilts in their beds. Complete silence prevailed throughout the Palace and the land.

At stroke of midnight the Princess suddenly awoke with a start. She had sensed movement in the room. True enough there he was, the handsome young man was now turning away from the window to smile at her. How fortunate that she had left the window ajar.

“Please do not be frightened?” He approached her hesitantly. “I’m sorry I’ve disturbed you. “ He bit the corner of his lip to constrain the bursting emotions of rage and sorrow. “You’ve endured such hardship on my account…I meant to come earlier, but…”

“It is I who should beg your forgiveness.” She interjected and, eyes brimming with tears, she shook her head in dismay. “They’ve treated you so abominably. And I, oh I felt so helpless to do anything about it!”

In truth, she’d done her best to sway them. In the beginning she’d even secured her mother’s help by appealing to her compassion and when that yielded no result, enlisted her brothers’ help to reason with a father hell bent on revenge. But it was all to no avail. Instead, all her efforts had further convinced His Majesty of her possession by the evil sorcerer (otherwise known as the Blue Moon entity), as well as necessitating harsher measures and her prolonged incarceration.

“It grieves me to say this, but I’ve come to bid you farewell. I will not forget you, ever.” Maviaku turned to hide the emerging tears.

Rushing over she grabbed his arm and in a sobbing voice pleaded, “Please don’t go. But, if you must, I want to go with you, wherever that may be!”

He smiled and, cupping her face, looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve come to love you so very much. “ He leaned over and gently planted a kiss on her forehead. “Know this, regardless of any future outcome; you are now and forever will be my one and only mate.”

His face grew grim and he nodded. “However, I should have known there was so little, perhaps no chance at all, for us. I’m sorry; this is the way it must be for now. “He turned to go, then stopped, and after a thoughtful pause, drew from his finger a ring. He then took off his shiny blue cloak and presented both of them to her.

“One thing I have learned is that there are infinite possibilities to this universe and that nothing in it can be deemed impossible. Out of my deep regard and affection for you, I offer you the freedom to choose. Conceal this ring well and guard our shared secret. Wear this garment when the Blue Moon manifests and remember that I love you from afar. If, at the conclusion of your life span, you still have same affections for me, put on this ring on your forefinger and don the blue cloak. On that night I give you my solemn pledge that I will return and from that day hence, we shall be eternally together.”

He then transformed into a song-bird and flew out the window.

Wiping her tears, she folded the garment carefully and placed it in the drawer of her night table but she sought a more secure location to hide the ring. As it so happened there was a stone encased in loose mortar in a dark corner of the room behind some furniture. She’d discovered it when she was a child and concealed her most prized possessions there. It also contained the moon rock he had sculpted to resemble a bird. Opening this niche she placed the ring alongside her other prized possessions. Then, though overcome with fatigue, when she went back to her bed and lay down, she was too emotionally overwrought to sleep.

End of Part 3

PART 4 (The Conclusion)

Click to Hear a Reading of Part 4

(You can scroll down to read along.)

She woke up feeling listless and somewhat disoriented when the sun’s brilliant rays streamed into the room. She lay still with her eyes closed and lent half an ear to the bustling feet and muted but excited conversations of the attendants’ eager anticipation of the day’s events. They were bustling about, carefully selecting and rearranging the formal garments she would wear that day. After the family breakfast in the main hall, there was to be a prayer session that would be presided over by His Eminence, that old coot, in the Grand Chapel. In truth, hoping but doubting the validity of last night’s series of events and her brief encounter with her beloved Maviaku, she maintained the farce of sleep as long as possible so as to carefully mull over the facts.

The day‘s tedious ceremonies and events seemed to last forever, but as soon as she could, she seized the first available opportunity and snuck into her room, locked the door then proceeded to check the drawer. True enough, in there a strange blue garment was folded, but it was not gleaming or as extraordinary as she recalled. A moment later she fetched the ring from its hiding place and carefully examined it; running her fingers absently over the strange inscription underneath. She next brought out the moonstone bird and, caressing it, kissed its beak before placing it back.

The garment, despite its apparent simplicity, was secretly treasured by her. Thereon, after each Blue moon when everyone retired for the night she would, without fail, quietly don the blue garment and sit by the window waiting for her beloved to return. But he never did. As a small consolation she would feel his presence and warm embrace however, as she sat while the garment, basking under the moon’s rays, brilliantly glistened and came to life with countless dancing stars.

She was eventually forced to marry a Prince whose kingdom’s alliance was a political necessity. In time she bore three children. Her life in that other kingdom seemed surreal as she functioned within the parameters of acceptable behaviour for the wife of a Crown Prince who then became a King.

During these years, she never wavered once from her initial promise to her true beloved and wore the blue cloak every Blue Moon. She kept this secret well hidden from all, even her children. Her warmongering husband the King eventually met his demise during one of his campaigns. After the elaborate funeral, the widowed Queen was allowed to return to the Palace in her homeland after her son, the Crown Prince, took the reins of power.

Eventually old age claimed the dowager Queen but by then her two other children had been married off to suitable diplomatic advantage and were living elsewhere. On this night of her final Blue Moon she asked her close confidant to fetch the plain blue cloak for her and help her don it. In tears the other did as she was bid and, complying with her wishes, left her Majesty alone.

With some difficulty she retrieved the ring from its hiding place where it had lain for the many years since she had married. Finally the former Princess, now a dowager Queen, placed it on her fore-finger. Going over she sat by the window to await her beloved’s return.

This time he did come. He looked the same as before, not a day older. Her inhibition soon melted away when he reached forward and kissed her on the mouth, gently breathing his magical dragon’s breath into her parted lips. Instantly she was transformed into her young, vigorous, beautiful self. Better than her young self though, for she was now an immortal.

“Are you ready?” He asked lovingly.

“I’ve been ready all my life.” She smiled back at him.

He reached his hand to hold hers and muttered a spell.

Instantly she was transformed into a colourful songbird.

“I have so much to share, so much to teach you!” He elatedly laughed.

And then, with Maviaku leading the way, they flew together through the open window.

The following morning, when the chief attendant entered the Dowager Queen’s quarters to awaken Her Grace, there was no trace of either Her Majesty or the blue garment.

The End.

THE LOST DAUGHTER LEELINAU

THE LOST DAUGHTER LEELINAU

(Original story: The Indian Fairy Book

From the Original Legends

Author: Cornelius Mathews)

Rewritten by BoSt

A long time ago a mighty hunter and his family lived in a modest dwelling alongside the lake near the base of the lofty highlands called Kaug Wudjoo. His favorite daughter, named Leelinau, was a beautiful girl who from the earliest age seemed sensitive, thoughtful, and imaginative. Being rather introverted, she unfortunately, passed much of her time in solitude, preferring nature and the company of plants, birds and animals to that of humans.

Whenever she could, she snuck out of the lodge and sought the remotest recesses of the woods. There was one particular section that had an irresistible draw and, oftentimes, she would sit in lonely reverie there upon some high promontory of rock overlooking the lake. Manitowok (otherwise known as the Sacred Wood) was truly an enchanting place. Resting there amid all the leafy haunts of forest pines, she lent an ear to the melodious ripples of the waves lapping against the open shore. This hallowed ground was of course shunned by all others who feared they might fall under the spell of its mystical inhabitants: the little wild men of the woods, the turtle spirits, or plant fairies that were believed to be consistently frolicking in mischievous revelry.
So fearful were some of the common folk that, whenever they were compelled to make a landing on this sacred coast, they always left behind an offering or token to appease any ill will and ward off malevolence from the indigenous fairy folk.

Leelinau, being the pure spirit of youth, had no such fear or adverse experience despite the many times she visited this place. She had no qualms visiting this enchanting place that welcomed her and made her feel as though she belonged.

Leelinau began finding her way here from a very young age. She would often go missing for many hours at a time as she gathered strange flowers and plants. Upon her safe return, she presented these delightful gleanings to her parents along with intriguing accounts of all her adventures that had transpired in her rambles.
Although her parents harbored a secret worry about her frequent visits to this sacred ground, they were unwilling to prohibit it to her, or even in any way deter her from going there. She’d always been very gentle and delicate in temperament and nature; therefore, they could not openly articulate their opposition for fear of making her sick; and so her visits to Manitowok persisted as she grew up in years to early teens.

Oh, but how she loved sitting in her favorite spot with her face turned upward, gazing at the sky or at the languid, shimmering ripples on water. Often she would linger long in contemplation, as though in communion with her guardian spirit seeking divine guidance and solace. Sometimes she would beseech the spirit to lighten her soul and alleviate the sadness that seemed of late to grip her heart. On other visits she would solicit the spirits to procure pleasant dreams or other innocent maiden’s favor.

On occasion, when her father remained afar on the hunt later than usual, and it was feared that he could be overwhelmed by a tempest, or encountered some misfortune, Leelinau would fast and then spend time in contemplation and a prayer in Manitowok while she implored the spirits’ help to speed his safe return.

As the years advanced, she, now an exquisite beauty in her mid-teens, frequented the fairy pines at greater length and, on her return appeared even more absorbed by it. Her increasingly strange detachment from the accepted norm greatly concerned her parents who began suspecting that some evil spirit had enticed her into its clutches, and had cast upon her a charm which she had not the power to resist.
This belief was confirmed when, one day, Leelinau’s mother, rising at dawn, secretly trailed her daughter into the woods. There, concealed by a huge trunk, she overheard her daughter, quietly seated at a rock, murmuring to some phantom companion, with appeals such as these:

“ Oh spirit of the dancing leaves!” whispered Leelinau, her heart palpitating with intense emotion. “Dear, sweet and gentle specter of the foaming stream. do not forsake me but visit thou my nightly pillow once more, shedding over it silver dreams of mountain brook and pebbly rivulets. Spirit of the starry night; lead my foot-prints to the blushing, burning passion-flower that shines with a carmine hue. Spirit of the greenwood plume,” she concluded, turning with passionate gaze to the beautiful young pines which lightly swayed their green leafy limbs over her head, gently brushing her face “ embrace me, your Leelinau, with thy intoxicating perfume, liken to the ones spring unfolds from its sweetest flowers, or hearts that to each other show their inmost adoration. I entreat you to hear this maiden’s prayer!”
Gradually with the passing of each day these strange communions with the phantom beings stole the heart of Leelinau away. Now she appeared detached and walked among her people in quiet melancholy, as though she was a passing spirit not belonging to that world. And this was not all, for she grew gradually more remiss with her daily routines, failing to complete even the simplest tasks of the lodge.

Before this time she used to frolic and engage in joyful interactions and play with her young companions as the girls of the neighboring lodges all assembled as usual before the lodge-door to participate in their favorite games of block and string. In contrast Leelinau would sit vacantly, dismissing these pastimes as trivial, unworthy of her attention, or she would feebly make the effort to join if only to articulate her thoughts that this activity was rather irksome to her.
Moreover, on those warm evenings when she was compelled to join in the group of young people as they formed a ring around the lodge and the leather and bone passed rapidly from one to the other she handed it along offhandedly with dispassionate indifference about winning.

Eventually summer turned into autumn and there came the joyful time of the corn harvest. The air was permeated with excitement as all members of the tribe congregated to participate in harvesting the ripened maize from the fields. They had not been at this long when one of the girls, coincidentally the one noted for her beauty, joyfully cried aloud having found a red ear. Everyone rushed over at once to congratulate her for this rare and most fortunate find; for it foretold a brave admirer who would soon be on his way to her father’s lodge. The girl blushed as crimson as the corn and, tucking the trophy to her bosom, awkwardly intoned her thanks for their well wishes then inwardly offered her sincere gratitude to the Great Spirit that the red ear was straight and true rather than being crooked and bent.
Just then one of the young men noted Leelinau’s unease as she stood aloof off to the side and, on looking more intently, spied in Leelinau’s hand another red ear she had just plucked, but this one was crooked. At once the word “Wa-ge-min!” rang out from him and the whole gathering gave a loud roar.
“The thief is in the corn-field!” shouted the young man, whose name was Lagoo and who happened to be a mischievous person well-known in the tribe for his mirthful powers of story-telling. “Beware all! Watch out for the old man stooping as he enters the field. Watch out for the one who crouches as he creeps in the dark. Is it not plain enough by this mark on the stalk that he was heavily bent in his back? Old man, be nimble or someone will take thee while thou art taking the ear.” Lagoo continued in his exaggerated tones, accompanying his words with the mimicked action of one bowed with age stealthily entering the corn-field. “See how he stoops as he breaks off the ear. Nushka! He seems for a moment to tremble. Walker, be nimble! Hooh! It is plain the old man is the thief.” He turned abruptly and, facing Leelinau as she sat in the circle, pensively regarding the crooked ear which she held in her hand, and then loudly screeched, “Leelinau, the old man is thine!”
Rounds of laughter rung merrily through the corn-field, but Leelinau, casting the crooked ear of maize down upon the ground, simply walked away without a word.

The subsequent morning at dawn the eldest son of a neighboring chief called at her father’s lodge. He was quite advanced in years; but he enjoyed such renown for his aptitude, dexterity and courage in battle, to say nothing of his expertise in the hunt, that Leelinau’s parents accepted him at once as a suitor for their daughter. They also held the firm belief that it must have been the chief’s son whom Lagoo had pictured as the corn-taker. Their decision was also based on the dire hope that he, with his proficiency as a warrior, would perhaps win back the affections and thoughts of Leelinau from the harmful phantoms in the spirit-land.
Leelinau did not express any objections to his age or give any other plausible reason; she simply shook her head in the negative, clearly rejecting his proposal. Her parents spent the night arguing the point between them. By the following day, with their mind set, ascribing the young daughter’s hesitancy to maidenly fear, they went ahead anyway and fixed the date for the upcoming nuptials.
Knowing her daughter’s whims better, Leelinau’s mother harbored a secret worry that she kept from her husband. She chose to busy herself for the next couple of days with the customary preparations, refusing to deal with the nagging question that haunted her peace: The marriage-visit to their lodge, when the old warrior would present himself at the door was arranged and the day was fast approaching. What if Leelinau refused to admit him? She’d already definitely informed her parents that she would never acquiesce to this match. Would she relent?
They had no way of knowing of course that in her heart of hearts Leelinau had already avowed fidelity to another.

When she was much younger she had confessed to her mother some, but not all, the details. The fancies that filled her young mind during all those absentee hours spent under that broad-topped young pine whose leaves whispered in the gentle murmur of the air in the evening hours when the twilight steals by with night on its heels.
During one of those times while reclining pensively against the young pine-tree, she’d fancied that she had heard a voice addressing her. At first it had been scarcely more than a sigh, but gradually it had grown more pronounced:

"Sweet maiden,” Said the melodious whisper. “Pray think of me not just a tree; but as one who is fond to be with thee; I, with my tall and blooming strength, with my bright green nodding plume that wave above thee. Thou art leaning on my breast, Leelinau; lean forever there and be at peace. Fly from men who are false and cruel, and quit the tumult of their dusty strife and instead embrace this quiet, lonely shade. Over thee my arms I will always spread, sturdier than the lodge's roof. I will breathe a perfume like that of flowers over thy happy evening rest. In my bark canoe I'll waft thee o'er the waters of the sky-blue lake. I will deck the folds of thy mantle with the sun's last rays. Come, and on the mountain free rove in bright Fairy with me!"
These riveting, enchanting words were drunk in with an eager ear by Leelinau and in time the tiny buds of love in her heart transformed into full blossoms.
Her mind made up, she’d sworn then and there to forsake all other. Returning to the spot time after time, she’d listen with intent to hear more but the voice became only an inaudible murmur and then it had ceased altogether. Even so, she felt such solitude and peace there. Meanwhile in her heart the hope persisted and flourished with a sure conviction that one day, one day, it will be so.

On the eve of the day that was fixed for her marriage, Leelinau donned her best garments. She arranged her hair according to the tradition of her tribe, and wore all her maiden ornaments in beautiful array. With a smile, she then came forth and presented herself to her parents.
“I am sorry to have caused you so much worry,” She said, “It is time for me to now to take my leave of you. My place is with the chieftain of the Green Plume, who is waiting for me at the Spirit Grove.”
Her face was radiant with joy, and the parents, taking what she had said as her own fanciful way of expressing acquiescence in their plans, and of her intention to have a clandestine meeting with her intended suitor, wished her good fortune in their happy meeting.
"I leave you with some trepidation in my heart," she continued, addressing her mother as they left the lodge, "Joyful as this event is, my heart is beset with sadness for I am going from one who has loved and nurtured me since my infancy; one who has guarded my youth; who has given me medicine when I was sick, and taught me to cook and sew.” Turning to take one last teary eyed look at the lodge, she added. “I am going from a father who has ranged the forest to procure the choicest skins for my dresses, and kept his lodge supplied with food and warmth. He kept us all safe from all danger. I am going from a lodge which has been my shelter from the harsh storms of winter, and my shield from the heat of summer. My gratitude is boundless for all that you’ve both done for me. But now I must leave you. Farewell, my beloved mother, my respected father, farewell!"
So saying, she sped faster than any could follow to the margin of the fairy wood, and in a moment she was lost to sight.

As she had often thus taken her leave of the lodge with such sentimental and solicitous words, her parents opted not to worry but instead confidently awaited her safe return. Time passed. Hour followed yet another hour, as the clouds of evening rolled up in the west; darkness came on, but no daughter returned.

They jumped from their seat at a loud knock on the door and rushed to open it. But instead of Leelinau, they came face to face with the forlorn and decidedly angry face of the bridegroom who demanded an explanation for this insult. Soon, armed with torches, they hastened to the wood in search of Leelinau. Although they lit up every dark recess and probed each leafy gloom, their search was in vain. Leelinau was nowhere to be seen. In lamentation they called her name, but she answered not.
Many suns rose and set, but nevermore in their light did the bereaved parent’s eyes behold the lost form of their beloved child. Soon they had to come to grips with a harsh reality: their beloved daughter was lost to them forever. Wherever she had vanished, it was to a place no mortal eyes could see and no mortal tongue could tell.

Some years later however, it chanced that a company of fishermen, who were spearing fish in the lake near the Spirit Grove, saw an apparition. Back in the village they excitedly descried their encounter as they sat by the fire under the moonlight night; how they had spotted, only for an instant, an enchantingly beautiful apparition resembling a female figure clad in flowing, flowery garments standing on the shore. As the afternoon was mild and the waters calm, they had cautiously pulled their canoe in toward the bank, but the slight ripple of their oars invoked alarm. The phantom beauty had fled in haste, but not before they recognized in the shape and dress as she ascended the bank, the lost daughter, and they saw further her most handsome fairy-lover, green plumes waving over his forehead as he glided lightly through the forest of young pines.

The End.

The Discerning Tailor

The Discerning Tailor

Stebo was visiting with some old friends. After the day’s events of fun and catching up, as darkness blanketed the sky, the party showed no indication of slowing down. In the hopes of prolonging their enjoyment they pestered Stebo yet again for one of his wondrous stories. With his eyes drooping, for he was in fact rather worn out, he nodded obligingly and mumbled, “But a rather concise one this time”. They all got comfortable and following a brief introduction to human traits, Stebo began his story:

“Once upon a time there was a well known tailor whose outstanding work had earned him both fame and fortune. Because of his exceptional competence he enjoyed a long list of well to do, loyal clients from far and wide. There were also many rumours of his exploits that never failed to entertain people whenever they gathered.

It was said that once a particularly austere and haughty judge was assigned to the rather prosperous district in the Yeronos County. Feeling the need of more ostentatious attire, he sends for this tailor.

Upon arriving and hearing of the commission the first thing the astute tailor did, instead of taking measurements, was to bow slightly and inquire about the official’s title and length of service.

“I fail to see the significance of your query.”The official frowned and said in a stern voice, annoyed at the tailor’s audacity.

“I beg your pardon my Lord,” The tailor at once with another supplicate bow explained. “When an official is newly promoted to a high post, elated and proud, he’ll walk with his chest stuck out and will lean slightly backwards. Therefore the front of his garment must be modified to be a little longer than the back.

For the official halfway through his posting who feels well established and mature, with little surprises to be had, the front and the back of the robe must be equal in length.

When an old experienced official is transferred to a new post and he’s reticently anticipating his forthcoming retirement, his posture will bend a bit. Mindful of this, the front of his vestment should be cut shorter than the back.

This information is vital therefore for the execution of a proper fit.”

The End

The Peony Prince

The Peony Prince

(Story by BoSt.)

The Peony Prince Part 1

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Once upon a time at Makonwa, in the Country of Yonar, there was a grand old castle called Wataozi, surrounded by high walls and a deep moat deceptively carpeted with lotus lilies.

In this castle resided the powerful feudal King Kongzuozhi, who was an unbending, stern ruler.

He’d not always been that way; he’d changed drastically after the sudden loss of his only son and heir and the tragic demise of his bellowed wife. Sadly, that had occurred before the eventual cessation of his prolonged wars with the neighboring states.

It was a small consolation that the truce, after years of devastating wars had left thousands dead and the land ravaged, lasted long after the treaty was signed. Upon the demise of his beloved wife, something had died in King Kongzuozhi and from then on, forsaking love, His Highness concentrated only on his administrative duties and an occasional hunt.

Fortunately his beautiful daughter became another, unacknowledged casualty and was pretty much left to grow up on her own.

His chief Councillors, noting that King Kongzuozhi daughter, Princess Juanjing, were now eighteen and at good marriageable age collectively proposed to have her be suitably married.

After careful consideration His Majesty perceived this to be the perfect opportunity to solidify the truce with his most formidable foe, King Akono of Goakan.

It so happened that his arch nemesis had a second son that might be a suitable match and so he coolly consented to have the two royal houses allied through a binding marriage.

A meeting between The Majesties was soon arranged and an agreement reached that satisfied both fathers.

The two betrothed were then, in the company of sizable entourage, briefly allowed to see each other and exchange pleasantries before being summarily whisked away.

The prospective groom Prince Daro could hardly contain his good fortune and returned to his quarters as if in a daze, for Princess Juanjing was the most beautiful girl he’d ever set eyes on. She not only was an enchanting beauty, but also had a lovely poised figure and appeared quite intelligent and sweet.

Ever the dutiful daughter, Princess Juanjing for her part found her intended not entirely objectionable and promised herself to be the most loving and caring wife to her prospective husband. She was also relieved to learn that she and her husband would be living in the same castle she grew up in until the Title passed to their firstborn son upon the death of her father.

The Peony Prince Part 2

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One fine evening, as sleep averted her, Princess Juanjing accompanied by her maids, decided to take a long stroll in the magnificent gardens. She delighted at the cool breeze caressing her cheeks and puffing up her sleeves as she cast her eyes lovingly on the huge blooms of her favorite peonies, planted in stands hither and thither all along the path. She lingered by the pond where some water lilies were also in bloom. Absently she gazed at her reflection on the pond then watched the fireflies dancing in air as she listened to the harmonious croaks of the mating frogs.

“What’s this?” a curious image drew her attention and she bent over to see it more clearly. The slippery ground at the edge of the pond gave way, making her lose her balance and she was in imminent danger of falling into the water.

But just in time a handsome young man appeared and, gently cradled Princess Juanjing in his arms as he pulled her to safety.

He disappeared the moment her feet touched solid ground and she was out of harm’s way. But the pleasant scent of peony lingered about her.

Her maids in attendance on her had seen the slip and, as they rushed to save the Princess, they also noticed a glimmer of light about her as the Princess was returned to the safety of solid ground, but of the handsome young man they saw nothing.

Princess Juanjing’s heart was captivated from that moment on, truly smitten by this most handsome young man with fine features, and bedecked in floral patterned fineries.

He was clad in what she deemed to be a noble warrior’s court attire of the highest order. Clearly he was a Prince. For one thing the intrigue, near invisible pattern on his silk garment was that of a thousand exquisitely embroidered peonies and his sword’s scabbard was encrusted with rare jewels in the same pattern. She longed to see him again, if only, to thank him for saving her from the water.

She could not help but wonder how he’d happened to be there. Moreover, how could he have entered the private gardens without alerting the guards? More puzzling still was the fact that none of her maids had seen him. Could he have been a ghost? …A Fairy perhaps? Regardless, she cautioned all those in attendance to keep this a secret for she feared most of all that word of this would reach her father and cause a stir.

If he was for real, this infringement of security, however innocent, and the resulting trespassing charge, would place his life in direst jeopardy. Harbouring a certain fondness in her heart for him already, she could not bear to see him decapitated.

Unfortunately, during the subsequent days and nights she was kept busy, hardly a moment to spare. Having no mother, she was herself charged with the responsibilities of overseeing certain preparations of her trousseau and the impending nuptials. And so, even though she longed to visit the pond on the slight chance of encountering the young man again, she could never seem to get away. That is not to say she did not think of him every minute, every second of her wakeful moments.

The Peony Prince Part 3

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Her seemingly unending duties and obligations created unmanageable stress and this, coupled with her secret obsession with the mysterious young man, eventually took its toll and the Princess soon fell ill. She could not eat or sleep and her pallor grew ghostly pale. She grew thinner and thinner… The Princess was wasting away regardless of any treatment. The attending physicians were baffled for they could not pinpoint the reason for her progressing ailment.

Naturally the day of Princess Juanjing’s marriage with the young Prince Daro had to be postponed, if not, in the event of her demise, altogether aborted.

The King Akono of Goakan did not take this change of plan too kindly. Deeming it a personal affront, or at best a ruse, the relationships between the two countries became further strained.

King Kongzuozhi, her father, was both infuriated and deeply grieved by this turn of events. He set up a commission to investigate this matter further and to resolve this dreadful predicament. The thorough search finally uncovered certain facts and brought to light the peculiar events of the specific night that was at the start of Princess Juanjing’s personal crisis. Princess’s confident and friend maid, Nieju, was detained, severely and repeatedly interrogated. In the end she broke down and, through her confession, The King was able to uncover the source of his daughter’s infirmity.

King Kongzuozhi’s first reaction was one of extreme fury. He was not a superstitious King, so he expected the source to be an intruder. The guards on duty that night were all rounded up and severely punished. Those on duty in the garden lost their lives. His Majesty’s fury not spent however, he next wanted to have the gardens, specifically the peony beds, that had once been his deceased wife’s personal project, destroyed. The pond would not be spared either, nor would any of the living creatures living in it. His closest advisers braved his wrath to in the end to talk some moderation into King Kongzuozhi and so the decimation was averted in the nick of time.

They insisted that Princess Juanjing was sick and her malady was one of the heart. She had fallen deeply in love, a serious infatuation perhaps with the phantom, by then dubbed “The Peony Prince”, that she’d seen for so brief a span. He could be a fox spirit or other fey. They feared that Princess Juanjing would soon meet her untimely demise if something drastic was not done.

Unfortunately there was no account in the books of legend that matched the description of such a being.

King Kongzuozhi‘s ancestors had exercised domain over these lands for many generations yet the books did not speak of any tragedy or untimely demise of such a warrior Prince in this castle. Clearly this was a matter for the priests, for only they could exorcise this evil spirit that must have snuck into the garden in order to take possession of a pure soul like Princess Juanjing. If nothing was done soon, they warned His Majesty, Princess’s life would be forfeited.

King Kongzuozhi, with some skepticism, reluctantly agreed with this and so the Priests were called in to perform their exorcism at her sleeping quarters, in the garden and around the pond.

Princess Juanjing seemed a bit better after this though she remained downcast and listless in spirit.

The Peony Prince Part 4

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 It was another full moon then and her vigilant attendants seizing this opportunity to enliven her spirit a little obtained the King’s permission to engage the services of Meing Sheju, a celebrated player on the Tazuo, that evening. The weather was particularly hot and in the absence of any breeze, they arranged seating on the gallery to enjoy the performance of musicians as they played “Dannoura”. Suddenly, to the amazement of all, that same handsome Prince manifested from the bed of peonies. He was unmistakably visible to all this time, right down to the elaborate peonies embroidered on his fine garments.

“There he is! There he is! I see him!” Many cried out and pointed, at which time he suddenly vanished. Princess Juanjing, seemed to have regained her zeal, she was up and smiling, with a tint of color gracing her cheeks.

When the word of this reached His Majesty, her father he was infuriated and puzzled at the same time. “I knew those priests are all useless!” He scoffed; but he could not at the same time deny the sudden change that had come over his daughter.

The following night, while Mei played the flute and Sujikoa played the Koto for their mistresses the figure of the Peony Prince manifested again, though briefly. A thorough search of the garden, the peony beds and the pond continued into the subsequent day and produced no results, with not even the shallowest of footprints or even a bent blade of grass.

King Kongzuozhi’s fury knew no bounds. Eventually his ire dissipated and he agreed to engage a renowned mage of great strength and ability, Tao Yonume, to capture the phantom Peony Prince.

It was decided that, since music seemed to hold a special fascination for the apparition, it would be used to trap the phantom warrior Prince. Well before the music began playing, however, Tao Yonume all dressed in black, found a good spot to hide and evoked a spell to conceal his person.

Then he crouched among the peonies and waited. On cue, Meing Sheju and Osono started their concert, while all in attendance pinned their eager gaze on the peony beds. Princess Juanjing was concerned about the welfare of the apparition, but her longing to see him soon overcame her trepidation. As the music played “Sofuren” sure enough there materialized from the peony bed the figure of the Prince dressed splendidly in his fine embroidered garments. The attendants were puzzled as to why Tao Yonume did not jump up at this juncture to capture the apparition.

If the truth be known, Tao Yonume was so entranced by the noble bearing of the phantom Prince that at first he’d remained reluctant to capture him. His sense of duty overcame his hesitation however. He stealthily approached the apparition from behind and seized the Peony Prince round the waist, holding on with all his prodigious strength. After the phantom Prince was in his grasp, still clinging tightly to the apparition, Tao Yonume felt a strange wet vapor falling on his face. This by degrees made him fall in a swoon to the ground. Determined to hang on and still grasping the apparition, Tao Yonume forced himself to remain conscious and shouted, “I caught him… I caught him!”

But when he looked at what was in his grasp he saw only a large peony.

By then everyone had witnessed this struggle and armed guards hastened to the spot to apprehend the culprit. In their trail King Kongzuozhi also ran to the spot where Tao Yonume lay, followed by the Princess Juanjing and her maids.

The metamorphosis of a phantom Prince into a Peony astounded and mystified all except King Kongzuozhi who grumbled: “Ah, it is as I figured. This is no fox fairy or ghost. It is the noble sprit of the peony flower who has taken the form of a Noble warrior.” Then turning to his daughter he said, “I knew the security could not be breached. This is no ordinary apparition.” Tao Yonume nodded in agreement. “By your leave my Liege, may I add that this should be regarded as a high compliment from the Heavens.” King Kongzuozhi after a thoughtful silence concurred. “This is high praise indeed! You must all pay great respect to all the peonies, and show this one caught by Tao Yonume particular respect by taking good care of it.”

The King’s last words were directed at Princess Juanjing who immediately took charge and carried the peony flower back to her room. Her close attendants at once fetched her favorite vase and filled it with fresh water. She carefully placed the peony in the vase and placed it on a table near her bed. As nothing else happened that night, soon all retired to their quarters to get a good night sleep.

The Peony Prince Part 5

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At one point after midnight Princess Juanjing was suddenly woke, having received a gentle kiss on the lips. Rubbing her eyes she sat up and looked about her. All was as it had been when she had dozed off, nothing stirred, yet there was an intoxicating perfume that permeated the air. She smiled looking at the peony in the vase and reached out and gently run her fingers over the petals.

When she reclined and closed her eyes a strange sensation took hold of her. She felt as though her beloved peony spirit was beside her. He held her tight in his caress and showered her face with gentle kisses.

She drifted at once to a deep sleep, to awaken next morning refreshed and full of vigour.

Day by day she got better and better. Soon she was her vigorous, radiant self again. Each day she tended the peony with meticulous care, and though a cut flower, the peony seemed to never wither but instead a perfect bloom grew more brilliant in colour and still more fragrant with her ministrations.

The news of her recovery had of course reached King Akono of Goakan. He sent his emissaries with word, that now Princess Juanjing was well, in keeping with their previous arrangement he expected the wedding to go on.

King Kongzuozhi saw no reason to put off the wedding any further and so picked the time for the ceremony. No one consulted Princess Juanjing’s wishes and she being a dutiful daughter expressed no objection to the already arranged marriage.

Princess Juanjing’s closest friend and confident patiently listened to her reservations and then reasoned with Princess that it was not possible for any human to live with an apparition or fairy forever. Meanwhile Princess Juanjing was reminded that she had her duty to fulfill and certain obligations were expected of her. She could not, and must not, renege on her filial duty to her father and ancestors. Lasting peace was ensured with this arrangement and all would prosper. The prospective groom was handsome in his own right and had other attractive attributes, so how bad could it be?

A month later the King Akono of Goakan and his family with much fanfare and rich gifts for the bride arrived at the Castle. On the appointed date, Prince Daro was married off to Princess Juanjing in an elaborate ceremony and festivities that lasted for weeks.

But a curious thing happened on the wedding night; an occurrence that quickly became a closely guarded secret between Princess Juanjing and her attendants. In preparation for the wedding Princess Juanjing insisted the peony and the vase be removed from her quarters that would henceforth serve as the matrimonial chamber and be placed in the adjoining room. In all the fanfare few had paid attention to the flower after this.

The morning after the marriage was consummated; the peony was found still in its vase, dead and withered. Princess Juanjing shed quiet tears upon seeing this but, of course, Prince Daro was never told. Later that afternoon, when she could get away, she visited the peony garden and, squatting by the side of the pond, unfolded her silk handkerchief, removed the dead peony and gently placed it in the water as she said her silent farewells.

She watched it sink deep under the lily pads until it was hidden from view. Then, wiping her tears, she turned to begin the new chapter in her life.



The End

Fortune and Loss

Fortune and Loss

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Long, long ago, in a somewhat inconsequential province, an honorable man Donato, finally recognized for his brilliance, gained a very illustrious post. From that day on, his guests swarmed to his residence. But when he was dismissed from office on a false charge his residence grew so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Only one had remained consistent in his friendship. This unassuming young man called Yorick, who was not particularly well off, still called on Donato and did his best to lift the other’s spirits.

After terrible months of hardship the real culprit was caught, Donato was exonerated and reinstated to his former prominence. His so called absentee friends wanted to call on Donato again.

He at once wrote some in bold letters on a placard and had it posted at the gate of his residence. The words clearly stated:

“The best time to determine the mettle of your friends is not when you are exalted but when you are humiliated.

“The best occasion to gauge the genuine sincerity of others’ attitudes is the moment you fall from grace and become pathetic.

“The best moment to uncover those who are earnest and true-hearted would be when one is deceased or, happily, when one escapes death.

“Welcome all who are as true of heart as Yorick.”



The End

Call a Stag a Horse

Call a Stag a Horse

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Once upon a time there was an old kingdom that had for many years enjoyed the wise rule of its Sovereigns. There came an unfortunate period when a young weak Prince, not particularly adept at ruling, ascended the throne. As it is with such rulers, a particularly power-hungry uncle became Regent to the new King and sought to seize power for himself before the boy King reached the age of maturity. There remained one snag in his plan of usurpation however, as many of the senior ministers remained loyal to the old Dynasty and would mount an effective opposition. To ensure his success the Uncle needed to ascertain with absolute confidence who among them were not his staunch supporters.

On the King’s birthday, last among many rare handsome gifts, the Uncle offered a very beautiful, stag and said” Your Majesty, I’m privileged to also present this rare stallion for your Highness’s riding pleasure.”

The King laughed good humouredly and said, “Your eyes must be failing you Uncle, for I see before me only a stag.”

At this point the Regent turned to address the many ministers that were present at Court, and with a grand gesture pointedly asked, “Good ministers, pray tell, is it a horse or a stag that you eyes behold?”

Some kept their silence, others, to please the Regent acceded readily that it was a beautiful stallion. Proud but unwise ones protested haughtily that it was a stag and further grumbled under their breath that the Regent had gone a bit too far this time with this shameless posturing.

In the days that followed those loyal, steadfast ministers who had dared to speak the truth were one by one demoted, framed, besmirched or libelled. Subsequently, all likely opponents were either publicly executed or quietly perished in the dungeons.

The young King, last of his line, was methodically driven to madness and then suicide, paving the way for the Uncle to seize the throne.

The End