The palace gardens were now raging battlefields. Upon his foam-flecked war horse with a protective face chamfron made from the skull of another horse, the bloodthirsty king surveyed the conflagration through roiling clouds of smoke and dust. He noticed the hero princess arrive with her ancestral armor of many layers, in which a section of the plates were missing near her heart. The apoplectic king's face hardend into a mask with incontinent anger emanating from his eyes.

At the edge of visibility from crenellated towers the emperor watched the mad havoc with a furrowed brow. Late due to a momentary lapse of judgement by the unwilling feet that carried them, the wayward tailors suddenly appeared beside him with the cherished sword. "Apologies, that's on us... here you go."

As the emperor firmly grasped the handle to hold aloft, the enchanted sword became its previously opulent form again. Rampaging combatants grew pale and sick with fear. The vengeful king saw the two yarn spinners and declared it was a trick. He wielded the glittering fake blade striking fast as an asp at the weak spot of the champion princess's armor. Now that the emperor's kingdom was again under the aegis of the enchanted sword, the cold hearted king's weapon shattered into a million pieces. Most of the fragments were hardly as large as a grain of sand, and they swirled about all over. The spiteful king got splinters in his eyes and from that day forward there they stayed.

War being obsolete, the invading legion fled in terror. One of the king's retreating foot soldiers told him, "You are going to need more help."

The two designers wasted no time studying Ababuo's father's clothes. They advised, "If it pleases Your Royal Highnest, for the victory ball we can fabricate the most beautiful clothing imaginable."

The emperor greeted his daughter with tracks of tears staining his cheeks. "It's a wonderful thing you have done for the kingdom this day."

"I did it for us," the true survivor smiled.

"What's today?" wondered a tailor.

Without warning a reboant roar shook the ground. The friendly dragon and offspring landed bowing with oxenine horns to the princess.

"Feels like a Moonday," Ababuo leaped onto the dragon's back clutching coarse hairs of a lion, because if the chance of a lifetime presents itself, you say yes.

"My ring of time day was a sun ago. You forgot," said the other tailor as they clung on to legs of the child avoiding scythe sharp talons, and also on the make for any loose iridescent scales that might be loose because of how much they were worth as they took flight.

Dad called, "It's okay that I had your marriage all arranged! I'll break the news! The prince shimmies anyway."

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