Legends Are Real To Those Who Believe Them

Once upon a time, there were Six Provinces in the land and were divided amongst everyone. One was given to the Elves to rule, one to the Centaurs, and four for Men. Quickly, one of the Kingdoms of Men became overrun by pirates and is still their land to this day leaving only three official Kingdoms. For a while, everyone lived in harmony until the Men decided to take over the other Kingdoms. This led to five hundred years of continuous war that lingers on today and brought about the fall of magic. Now, the only good prince of The Kingdoms waits, hoping in the legend of the all powerful Elven Enchantress Avendrelle to return to his aid as the stories say.

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As the stars started peeking out under the blanket of darkness, the prince sat in his quarters by the fire. The only light in the room was that of the flames, outlining his figure. The window was slightly cracked open where just a small breath of the cold night air could seep through. All around, it was a calming night. He watched the flames dance as he pondered over the day. With his hands clasped on his lap, the dancing fire reflected in his dark brown eyes. These days, seldom did anyone see the glimmer that used to be there. With the despair that swept through his kingdom and the shadow of death that followed his father, there did not seem to be a reason for any glimmer in his eyes anymore.

Not only did there seem to be more than a thousand reasons to be despondent, the prince was truly lonely. His mother had died giving birth to his brother when he was just a young boy of five. Only a few days later the baby died leaving Vincent and his father without a queen and another heir. Over the years, his comrades and brothers in arms had only lasted a short while, dying on the many, many battlefields over the years. There were times when he would come back from a battle wishing that he had died with his soldiers. It became hard to become close to people, knowing that there was such a high likelihood of losing the ones he loved.

And now his father was dying, leaving him an equally terminal kingdom. Once his father passed, his only friend left would be the pirate who was gone more times than not. Then he would be left with ghosts and shadows as his only companions as he watched his kingdom fade away. That was a reality that grew closer and closer as the sun rose and set each day. It was a fate that the prince did not want to see come to fruition, but, in the moment, could not find a way to stop it.

The only sliver of hope in all of this was the thought, the far out idea, that the myth of the Elven Princess Avendrelle was waiting for the time to return. Though the Elders had thought him foolish to pursue what they had called just a myth, he could not help it. He knew that he was different from the other kings and their sons. He had hope and faith in the people that things could change. As radical of a thought that that was, he would not give up on it.

Thinking of the princess made him want to read a story of old. As a boy, all he had done was read the old stories. He remembered when he was very, very little and his mother would read them to him before she had passed. The prince stood up out of his seat and went to his desk. He reached above it to a tattered, musty book on the shelf. Pushing aside the scrolls and decrees of complaints and other matters that his people had sent him to deal with, he pulled the book off of the shelf.

Sitting back in his chair, he opened the book. Dust sprinkled down off the pages, reminding him how he had not had any time recently to read the books he so desperately loved. He flipped through the pages until he got to a chapter entitled ‘A Story of Elves and Magic’ and began to read.

The chapter told of the Elven King and Queen and their rule. It told of how the Elves were the finest warriors in all the kingdoms and how they treasured the forests above all else. It was said that the Elves had found a way to speak to the birds and the fawns, but it is hard to discern what is said about Elves is true and what are just tales told by mothers or by pirates who have had a few too many drinks.

The chapter told of how the Elves were dear friends and allies of the Centaurs. They would teach the Centaurs their battle skills and the Centaurs would teach them theirs. When Vincent read a section that talked about how Elves and Men were once allies, he wished that that was what it was like now. He wished that Men had not been so greedy and filled with lust for power. If they had not started The War, then the Elves and Centaurs would not have died. Everyone would be living in peace and harmony as they once had. He marveled about what it would be like to live in a world that was full of peace.

But instead, he was reading about the days of prosperity, not living them. The faults of Men centuries past were now passed down from generation to generation like a broken heirloom, cursed with war. The evil debts made by Men five hundred years ago were being paid with the only currency they accepted. Blood.

As he read, he looked for any mention of the princess, trying not to let his mind linger on the state of The Kingdoms. Failing to find anything he realized that this was what Eugene and the Elders were talking about. There was no proof of her ever existing and he could not think of a reason for someone purposefully leaving her out if she had existed.

When he finished reading about the Elves, he flipped through more of the chapters in the book. All of the titles sounded intriguing. Centaurs and Their Foe, Elvish Findings, A King From Afar and His Rose, and The Serpent King of The Nine all jumped out at him. Some of these stories were thought to be true while others were just for entertainment. However, all were extremely interesting. He had loved all of them as a boy and remembered fondly how well his mother read them.

At the moment, all he wanted to do was get lost in the time of magic and peace. He wished beyond all else that someday, even if he was not around to see it, that the day would come when the kingdoms were at peace and back to the way it was supposed to be. He could not let the cursed heirloom of broken kingdoms be passed down to his heir. He knew that he had to stop the fighting, the death, and the despair.

As he closed the book, he tried his hardest to relax. He listened to the sound of the fire crackling and thought about what he had heard from the old pirates. They had said that if he called out to her in his dreams that she would appear before him. Hoping that what they said was true, the prince pondered on how he was to go about this. How was he supposed to call upon a princess that he did not know? He questioned his mental state as he remembered that she was quite possibly not even real.

Just the thought of sleep and dreams made him yawn. As he did so, he realized the lack of sleep he had had over these last months was finally catching up to him. Even when he did sleep, it was far from restful. He would awake many times and have dreams that he fought hard to forget. He wished more than anything to get a peaceful night’s sleep.

Seeing that the fire was dying, the prince put away his book and prepared for bed. He took off some of the heavy layers of his outfit, leaving only a loose fitting white shirt and comfortable brown pants. Pulling the thick blankets over himself, he rested his head on his pillow. He laid there with his eyes open for a while, the troubles of the day still racing through his mind. As he began to drift asleep, the last thing he could remember was the thought of the Elven Princess.

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Hours later, the prince started to open his eyes. It must have been a rather sunny morning, because he had trouble opening them. Placing his hand over his eyes as they adjusted, he thought he heard the sound of a babbling brook in the distance and the sound of birds chirping. When his eyes were finally accustomed to the light he realized he must be dreaming.

He found himself sitting on a white bench in the middle of an expansive glass room. Outside, he could see the brook, the birds, and a magnificent, magical looking forest. However, what struck him most was the being that stood in front of him. She looked like an angel and for a moment he wondered if she was even there at all.

A woman with a glow about her stood before him. She had snow white skin that was so perfect it seemed other worldly. Her blue eyes were piercing. They shone like the night sky with hints of stardust sprinkled in them. Her hair was dark and warm like a cup of cocoa on a cold evening. She wore a delicate, white dress embroidered with leaves and flowers. On the top and the sleeves were crystal flowers woven in with silver threads. The skirt was made of thin white, finely crafted Elven material. On her head, she wore a delicate, fragile tiara made of thin carefully forged metal with small diamonds and crystal flowers. But what the prince noticed most about her was the pointed ears that peeked out from under her hair.

In that moment, he knew that he had stumbled upon the dream realm of the Elven Princess Avendrelle, the one who would end the everlasting War of Men. His pulse quickened. He gazed upon her as she walked towards him. Anything that he would have normally said, or thought he would have said, fled from his mind as all words were lost on his tongue.

“Greetings Prince Vincent of Tormindar, son of King Winaford.” When she spoke, her voice was like a song that at the same time put you to sleep like your mother’s voice and an enchantress lulling you into her magic.

She began to pace around the enchanted room, her fair hands clasped behind her back. “I have been watching you for a long time and am pleased to see where you are now. I hoped that you would try to reach me. Truly, I thought you would have done so sooner.” She looked at him with a gaze that convinced him she must be searching his soul. “Why did you not? Did you have no faith in me?”

Vincent opened his mouth to speak but found that in the moment, he seemed to have no control over it. The words he thought to say did not come and he sat there like a mute man.

To his surprise, the Elf smiled at him. “Do not look to the past, for the future is what matters. Tell me, you wish to end the never ending war, do you not?” Her piercing eyes struck him again. This time, however, he found the words to respond.

“Yes, Your Highness, and how will that be?”

“Of this, I am not certain.” Avendrelle looked out the window at the brook. “Five hundred years ago when my people were under siege, I was sent to a dream realm created by Oslimote to be saved for when Men were ready to end their evils. However, I was never given the information that I needed. I was told only that I was to watch the kings and observe their dreams. In them, I would find what I was looking for.”

The princess smiled. “Luckily for you, I heard your plea. As I was saying, I was not told how I was supposed to defeat these evil kings. However, I was given,” She looked down at the shimmering floor, “certain terms that I am bound to.”

From the way that she said this, Vincent knew there was something that he needed to know and something that troubled the Elf. What they were, he had no idea. He knew that trying to guess would be foolish for he was realizing that he knew shockingly little about the magic he had so tirelessly researched. It pained him to see a face like hers saddened. Her grieved expression, reflected that of his kingdom. Once beautiful and precious, now fallen into darkness.

She looked back over at him, regaining the majestic grace that radiated around her. “But, I was given a great deal of magic. When I was born I was given the gift of enchantment by the great old Wizard Oslimote and the gift of power,” she seemed to trail off again, “by another powerful man. Both of these gifts and the magic that Oslimote gave me when he sent me away can be used against these kings. I was trained all my years to become The Enchantress. I am ready now.”

Truly, Vincent could not believe what he was hearing, or seeing for that matter. It was the strangest and most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him. He was in a dream, but the dream felt so real and that, honestly, was the strange part. He was talking to the Elven princess who was thought to have never existed except in war stories. Now she was promising to help him.

“Now,” she spoke again, her voice floating, “I must know for certain that this is the time that I am meant to return. Tell me, Prince Vincent of Tormindar, son of King Winford, why do you desire my power?”

At this request, Vincent thought that he would stumble. He thought that he would get all of his words tangled, unable to untie them. However, his words came out of his mouth in a perfect string as if he had prepared the speech for days. When he began to think of it, he really had. He knew the answer by heart and was prepared to give it to whoever asked. It was what he pondered on day and night. It was what soaked daily deep in his soul.

“My people are dying and have been for centuries. The kings of old wanted nothing more than power, yet I am not one of them. I desire peace for my people and that of the citizens of the neighboring kingdoms. The war that was birthed from Men’s evil desires has lasted far too long and I will stop at nothing to end it. My people have seen far more suffering than any person should have to endure and I will not let this continue. The war must end now. With your help, your power, I believe that we can end it and deliver peace to the people. As a prince who cares about nothing more than his kingdom, I long to see them rescued. I have nowhere else to turn. You truly are my only hope. I desire for the war to end. That is my plea to you.”

Avendrelle stayed silent for a moment as if taking it all in. She knew that the moment, the time she had waited for for five hundred years, had come. The Prince was ready and so was she. A smile crept onto her rose colored lips and she spoke again to the prince. “Then you have been granted your wish.”

She held up her hand and gently touched his forehead with the tips of her ivory fingers. “Now sleep like never before.”

And just like that, Vincent felt his eyes grow heavy. After a second or two, he could not keep them open anymore and the princess faded away along with the beautiful scenery. However, he could still hear the peaceful sound of the brook as his mind went blank. The prince slept all through the night without any poor dreams, haunting his slumber. You could even say that he slept like never before.