She said it was good, so i wish then to share it with the world.
Lela,
A story you have asked for, and it is a story you shall receive.
Once upon a time in a kingdom not so far away, lived a handsome prince who had no need for recognition or fame, for he was a quiet prince content in his books and his music and his own thoughts. He was a happy prince, and had many friends because of his happiness that he shared with them. When the night was done and his friends had separated to the four corners of the kingdom from which the four winds come, there within himself stirred a beast more feared then any dragon, or any barbarian of any land. His thoughts and books and music deceived the young prince, and made the beast within himself take its fearful form. Every night, when his friends would part the beast took shape, and through the nights *that were long in his land*, he would fight the beast with insurmountable strength, but never could he defeat it. No champion came from such battles, and because of the frequency of these battles, a kind of understanding was formed between the two. A bond that united the two, a knowledge that without the other, there would be no purpose to either of there own existence. So when the sun had set on every day, the battle would again begin, and end without result.
One day while walking on the outskirts of his kingdom he passed a herald for a princess of a nearby kingdom, who had heard of his life, and the stories that he would tell to the commoners on nights when the sky was red. The herald gave the young prince the letter, and returned to the kingdom from whence he came.
Curious, the prince ran back to his castle, and with the aid of a hundred candles, he read the letter that he had received. In this letter were compliments of his stories and of his supposedly interesting life and the battles he had waged. Also, within the letters seemed to be a deep understanding of what he had felt, and why he told the stories to others. A smile crossed the prince�s lips not because there were people looking, but because he had felt something he had not felt in many moons. A new battle was to be waged, a battle for more knowledge of this princess, a battle to find out who she was and why she had cared.
The prince sent letters to the princess, asking for her identity, yet the responses he had received through the herald were not to his liking. No information was to be given. The princess wished not to be known by appearance or name, but by what she had written and what she was going to continue to write.
The prince was furious and gathered a group of his most cunning spies, and arranged for them to go to the princess�s kingdom and find out any and all information about her that was possible. The day before the prince�s spies were to set out on there quest, the herald from the princess�s kingdom arrived, and produced another letter. In this letter the princess begged for the prince to appreciate their correspondence for what it was, and for the feelings that were tucked away by every single word sent.
The prince hunched in the chair in the room of the hundred candles, and began to cry. He was struck by his ignorance and his stupidity and his misconceptions all at once, and it had defeated him like no dragon could. He stopped his spies from continuing their mission, and paid them 10 pieces of gold for their troubles.
Once he had continued his writings with the princess from the distant kingdom, he began to realize that the words that she wrote, were more important then having the knowledge of who she was. That it would no longer be the purpose of the letters, and if the information were to be given, then it would be merely a bonus.
Then one day the prince received some terrible news. A warrior of great strength was on his way to the kingdom, and was going to kill him and take his place as prince of the land. He stopped writing his letters to the princess, and began preparations for his victory or his defeat.
Many moons passed without word from the prince, and the princess grew worried. She wrote the prince a letter and sent it to his kingdom. The prince, weary from his preparation responded and told the princess of what may or may not be his end. She was the only one he had told, and to a degree the passing of that information gave the prince some relief.
One day a scout came to the prince, and told him that the warrior was slain on his journey to the prince�s kingdom, and that there was nothing to fear. As good of news as this was for the prince, he was terribly worn down from all of his preparations, and also, the beast that attacked him during the night was feeding from this vulnerability. The battle with the beast that came in the night was beginning to be an un-conquerable one. The beast was winning, and soon it would devour the prince, leaving him cold and dead like the warrior that came to slay him.
The prince wished to write back the princess, but did not want to tell her of the beast of the night and how he would soon be defeated. He wrote the letter telling only of the warrior and how he was slain on his journey to the kingdom. He made no mention of the beast that would soon be his end.
Late one night while the prince sat in the room with a hundred candles, he awaited the beast to return for the final battle, the battle that the prince would lose. But before the sun had set the herald from the kingdom of the princess came with another letter. The prince snatched it from the heralds hand and ripped open the wax sealed letter, reading intently and hungrily every single word on the page, for he knew that this would be the last letter he would read from his anonymous princess.
He glanced at the pile of letters that he had received from the princess, and the letter that lay within his grasp. With a moment of clarity he realized something. The princess had been sending him tools all along without even knowing it, that may help him defeat the beast. The pages began to swirl about him as he stood, and with a violent glow the letters burst into an enormous ball of flame. The flames died instantly, and within its ashes lay a magic sword that glowed a brilliant red. The prince grabbed the sword and held it high, and marveled in its magnificence. At that moment the sun had set and the beast ripped from his chest, and towered before him. The beast had known that this would be their last battle, and victory would soon be his. The prince took the red sword and drove it through the beast, cutting it so deeply that no magician in the world could save the beast from its wounds. The prince looked into loneliness� eyes, and withdrew the sword from him. The beast shrieked and every single candle in the room ignited in flame. When the shriek has stopped as quickly as it began, silence and darkness surrounded the prince, but he was no longer afraid. The beast was defeated, and would not return.
The prince sat down in the room with the hundred unlit candles, and began to write a letter to his princess, telling her of how she had unknowingly sent him the sword that defeated the beast he fought every night for three long years, and that he was indebted to the princess for her help. He called for his herald, and stamped with wax his kingdoms seal.
As the herald left the room, the prince sunk into his chair and smiled. Not because anyone was looking, but because he knew that no one was. And even though no one had seen him smile, he knew that the princess would know that he had.
The End
Get well princess.
12:51 a.m. - 2004-12-18
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