In the cruelest dark part of the wood embowered by tangles of serpentine trees where winter's snow melted by order not until summer solstice, nestled the impossible monster's silvan lair. The sun's scattered rays seemed alien filtered through long beards of trailing moss. Ababuo woke to find her wounds had been mended. The creature sat outside by the smouldering embers of a flame pit. Wisps of smoke sent ash to drift through the air in light flurries like snowflakes. As the princess stepped out, the bugbear ran hastily away catching a piece of its fur on thorns. Ababuo thought she caught sight of a woman's leg beneath it.
"Are you a spellmaker?"
The forest dweller turned and walked toward the princess. When it was quite close the furs cast off, and a matriarch dressed in once-proud royal robes stood before her. "I am Queen Ulla. The enchanted crown belonged to me until it was stolen by the perfidious king. Since that time there has been a great scarcity in my land. I live in this wilderness waiting for an opportunity to reclaim what is justly mine."
Once the princess became well enough the fallen queen without a crown delivered her to the fringe of the ancient woodland where the trackers long since abandoned all hope. Ababuo persevered onward at length to her own country. In spite of the pitiable condition in which the lone traveler returned from her long and dangerous mission the princess was recognized as she approached the beautifully manicured gardens of the palace and received joyfully. When the emperor learned of his daughter's arrival, celebration spread throughout the kingdom. The princess's patchwork armor was hastily replaced with a gold spangled gown.
Home Back Next
|
