Story the Fourth

  The Prince And The Curse

  Past – 14 years ago

  Once upon a time, there was a ten-year-old boy named Prince Hugh. He lived in a castle with his mother and father (AKA the Queen and King), and spent his days finding new ways to prank people. His true longing was to run free within the castle grounds, pranking whoever he wished, but his parents had other ideas. The King and Queen of Samyia enforced strict schedules and regimens in an effort to tame their wild son, but any attempt to control him just increased his desire for freedom. On an average day, the Queen would test out a new method for restraining Hugh, and he would slip out and lay booby traps for whoever was supposed to enforce the method of restraint. (ie. Guard, teacher, trades worker.)

  Earlier today, the Queen had brought in yet another teacher. Like all the others, this teacher hadn’t lasted long under the pressure of Hugh’s rowdy disobedience and had marched out in a huff.

  After hearing of the latest fail, the Queen had met up with the King, and, naturally, Hugh snook along to listen in. But one cannot just “listen in” to the King’s conversations (due to the obvious problem of the Royal Guard), and Prince Hugh had to find a secondary route in. As one of the benefits of being restricted to the interior of the castle, the Prince knew where all of the hidden backways and secret tunnels were. One such passage was a sewer tunnel that went into the Royal Chambers, which was where the King and Queen were currently holding their counsel.

  Hugh stood in front of a dark tunnel. He could smell some sort of dank stench, and he was loathe to venture forth. Do I really need to do this? he asked himself. If I want to know what they’re talking about, then yes. Think of the story this will make! With that last thought, he steeled himself and gingerly stepped into the sewer.

  Luckily, even after a few years of growth, Prince Hugh still fit into the small tunnel. That is, at least enough that he didn’t touch the walls. He had also thought ahead and stomped through the sewer wearing a pair of sturdy guards’ boots. The tunnel entrance behind him leaked in just enough life for him to see, and he was able to cautiously make his way to right underneath his parents’ room. The end of the sewer sloped up steeply, preventing him from traversing the last few feet, but he was able to hear the conversation from his hiding spot.

  “…never listens to anything we tell him,” Hugh could hear his mother saying. “We’ve tried everything, and none of it has worked in the slightest.”

  “Don’t worry, darling,” the King assured her. “I have a new plan, one that we haven’t tried yet. I’m going to test it out tomorrow when those annoying petitioners come. They’ve come every week for the last year, and it’s starting to get quite bothersome. I have enough trouble dealing with the regular petitioners without dealing with stubborn ones as well. Even if my plan doesn’t work completely, we should at least be rid of them.”

  There was a pause, then the Queen said, “I doubt it’s going to work, but we should at least give it a try.”

  Hugh stood in the sewers for a few more minutes, listening intently, but he didn’t hear anything else.

  That night, Prince Hugh stocked up his supplies. He had multiple secret sources, as most of the staff were on his side and enjoyed the pranks he played. (At least as long as he didn’t play pranks on them.) The Prince had a secret compartment in one of his bed’s legs where he stored all of his pranking supplies. So far, no one else had discovered his stash. Once he had loaded up his secret compartment, Hugh let his personal servant dress him in a nightgown, then got in bed. He fell asleep quickly, assured that he was ready for whatever plan his father was going to enact.

  “Sir, you need to wake up.”

  Prince Hugh sat up groggily in his bed, awoken by a familiar voice. He blinked his eyes open and saw his servant holding a set of overly fancy clothes. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What’s going on? Why are my clothes so fancy?”

  His servant gave him a half-bow. “Apologies, sir, but your father requested your presence this morning. He wants you to be ready as soon as possible.”

  Hugh sighed, but hopped out of bed and let his servant dress him. It was occasionally annoying to have someone else dress him, but it was one of the “responsibilities of royals,” as the Queen put it, and the Prince liked the servant assigned to him. As soon as Hugh was dressed, he opened his secret compartment and dug out his prank supplies, only to realize that his servant was still in the room. “Um… Please don’t tell anyone?”

  The servant gave him a wink. “My lips are sealed, sir.”

  Hugh smiled in relief. “Thanks. I gotta go now, I guess.” He left his bedroom in a jog and quickly arrived at the throne room. He slipped through the servants’ door and into the cavernous room, where the King hosted petitions hearings once a week. The King was already waiting on his throne. “Hugh, you can sit next to me. The petitioners will be admitted shortly.” The King pointed to a kid-sized version of his throne, and Hugh hesitantly sat. The mini throne was flat and uncomfortable, and the Prince thought he could already feel the weight of his father’s expectations sitting on his shoulders.

  A few minutes later, the gigantic main doors slowly creaked open, allowing a stream of people to file in. A small group stepped forward, separating from the rest of the people, and asked for help against ogre raids in the north. As the King responded, Hugh allowed his mind to wander, having seen this process numerous times before, since one of his pastimes (not counting pranking) consisted of spying on people. I wonder why Father wanted me here, he thought. What’s he up to this time?

  It wasn’t long before the King’s hand was revealed. One particular group of petitioners stepped forward, and Prince Hugh perked up in interest, as these particular petitioners had been coming every week for the past year. They always brought the same plea, and he had little doubt that they were the very people mentioned in his parents’ conversation the night before.

  “O great King, we bring terrible news,” said one of the petitioners. “We have continued to monitor the elves’ activities, and they are forming into a rebellion, just as we feared. If we do nothing about it, they may overthrow your authority in the forests where they live.”

  The King yawned. “Nothing you haven’t already told me. Why should I care about a bunch of blue, pointy-eared, tree-hugging elves?” There was audible gasps of shock throughout the room, making Hugh confused. He had been taught that humans were the superior species, above the goblins, elves, and ogres, so why did it matter if his father insulted the entire race of elves?

  “But I’ll tell you what,” the King continued. “I’ll make you an offer. If you can deal with my son for one day, then I will consider your words. But, if you fail, then you will leave here and never come back.”

  The petitioners glanced at each other uneasily, then one spoke up. “What if we reject this deal?” he asked.

  “Then you will continue to come here in vain, and I will continue to ignore you.”

  The petitioners murmured amongst themselves for a few moments, and came to a decision. “We accept your offer,” their spokesperson declared.

  “Very well.” The King leaned toward Hugh. “Make as much trouble for them as possible,” he whispered. “You have my full endorsement for this.”

  The Prince hopped off of his chair and slowly walked over to join the group of petitioners, who bowed to the king and walked out of the throne room, Hugh trailing behind them.

  As soon as they were in the hallway, Hugh took the opportunity and bolted. He ran through the castle halls, threading an intricate path until he had snuck behind the group of petitioners, then hid behind a corner and watched them react to his sudden flight.

  One of the petitioners threw his hands in the air. “Well, there goes that. Might as well go home now.”

  “Mind your tongue, Frank!” another snapped. “We still have a chance to get this right. We just have to find that prince. He’ll be around here somewhere. Get looking.” The petitioners hesitated, then spread out and marched down the hall, thoroughly checking every room they passed.

  Hugh snickered as the group continued to move further and further away from him. He had given many people the slip over the years, especially when his parents wanted to dress him up, but none had been as easy to lose as the petitioners.

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  He watched them walk down the hall for a few more moments, then cut around to a hiding spot in front of the group and got out his supplies. He decided to go with a simple but classic prank and took out a pouch of round, smooth stones.

  The Prince untied the pouch, but then paused. He was used to pranking people all the time, but something felt… off… this time. Hugh gazed down at his pouch of rocks, trying to figure out what it was. He eventually realized that this time, he was pranking at his father’s command. The King had mentioned that his plan would get rid of the petitioners, and pranking them would do exactly that. Once Hugh had reached that conclusion, he knew that there was only one thing left to do.

  “What the point of looking for this kid?” asked the man called Frank. “If he doesn’t want to be found, we won’t find him. He probably knows this place like the back of his hand.”

  Prince Hugh suddenly stepped out of hiding, pouch tucked away once more. “What’s with that saying, anyway? Does anyone really know what the back of their hand looks like?”

  A few of the petitioners stared at the back of their hands in interest, while the rest approached Hugh like you would a frightened animal. “Hey, kid,” Frank said softly. “Why don’t we play a game together? We can play whatever game you want, alright?”

  Hugh practically laughed out loud at how they were treating him. “I think I should be the one making suggestions, seeing as I hold all the cards – or, should I say, all the supplies.”

  The petitioners glanced at each other in confusion, and one asked, “The supplies for what?”

  “Why, for pranks, of course! Come with me, and we can prank all sorts of people all day long.”

  “Erm, but would your father approve?” Frank tried to object.

  “Puh-leeze.” Hugh rolled his eyes. “If I only did what my father approves of, I’d spend my days sitting somewhere being extremely bored and learning to be ‘a responsible young man.’ His ideals and mine don’t always match up. And don’t worry, the servants don’t mind being pranked. They’ve gotten used to it and think it’s all good fun.”

  The petitioners looked at each other (which Hugh noticed that they did a lot), shrugged, and then the pranking began.

  The Prince showed them his four main pranks, and they spent hours enacting them upon unsuspecting victims.

  Number one involved spreading round pebbles on a floor, then waiting for someone to pass by and slip on them.

  Number two was simply throwing little sack bombs filled with pepper at people.

  Number three was a little trickier, as you had to balance a small jar of water on top of a door, but it was worth it to see the victim’s look of shock when the liquid poured over him. (Hugh never did this prank by the kitchens, as even he knew enough to not spoil perfectly good food.)

  Number four was the most irritating to be pranked with, and as such, it was saved for the rarest of occasions. (He couldn’t afford to be completely annoying, as he still needed friends.) It involved sneaking into one of the privies and slathering the pot within with glue. (Hugh preferred to run very far away after this prank, as he tended to get chased by an angry servant or guard with a pot stuck to his back end.)

  All in all, Hugh and the petitioners had tons of fun that day. Close to nighttime, the happy little group headed back to the throne room. Surprisingly, there were still people bringing their requests before the King, and Prince Hugh and the petitioners had to wait a while until everyone was finished. Finally, the room was clear of people, and the petitioners stepped forward. “We have done as you requested,” stated Frank, kneeling on one knee. “We have handled your son for one day, and now it is time for you to hold up your end of the bargain.”

  The King sat in silence for a few moments, then said, “I have considered your words, and my answer is the same. I have no reason for me to care about some random elves. You are dismissed.” The petitioners filed out reluctantly, heads bowed in defeat, leaving Hugh to face his father’s ire alone.

  “Now, to deal with my irrational son.” The King stood up and began pacing. “What am I supposed to do with you? The one time I actually tell you to prank someone, you can’t even do it successfully! You need to learn to grow up and be responsible.” Listening to his father’s lecture, Hugh could feel himself shrinking from the King’s gaze. The King stopped pacing and stared at the Prince, then turned to one of the nearby guards. “Lock him in his room while I decide what to do with him.”

  The guard bowed, then grabbed Hugh by the arm and took him out of the room. The Prince tried to struggle free, but the guard anticipated it and gripped his arm even tighter. A ten-year-old boy was no match for a muscular guard in the prime of his youth, and so Hugh was dragged along until he was eventually pushed into his room. He heard the door shut and lock behind him. Sighing, he flopped onto his bed and eventually fell asleep.

  And so began arguably the worst week of his life. Prince Hugh spent the next week locked in his room. He got his food whenever a guard opened his door and gave him a tray of food. By day three, his personal servant must’ve cracked, because guards came in, immediately opened the Prince’s secret compartment, and took away all of his pranking supplies, along with a few keepsakes he kept in there. Hugh tried to stop them, but there was nothing he could do.

  As he sat in his room, lonely and alone, he wondered what kind of punishment his father was going to give him. He wasn’t sure what his father was planning, but knew that the King must be really mad in order to lock him up for so long.

  At the end of the week, Hugh was finally let out of his room. He was escorted to the throne room by four guards, one on each side. The Prince considered all the security quite extravagant. After all, he wasn’t an actual criminal or anything. He was taken into the throne room and forced to sit in the mini throne like before, with the guards beside and behind him. The King sat in his throne, and then the petitioning began, just like last week. Hugh felt like he was reliving it all over again.

  The Prince sat in the throne room for several hours, with no idea what was going on. The King seemed anxious and unsettled, almost as if he was waiting for something. The last people to present their request were a group of questers seeking approval for a foray into the ogres’ territory. Just as they bowed down and the leader opened his mouth to state the reasons for their quest, Hugh interrupted. “Do you really need to hear their request, Father? Could you please reject it already so I can get some dinner? You always reject these kinds of petitions anyway, and I didn’t have a very big lunch.”

  The leader of the questers gazed at the Prince venomously, but Hugh acted as if he couldn’t see it.

  Before the King could respond, the doors to the throne room blew open, and a sinister fog gusted into the room. Hugh hunkered down into his chair, frightened. Mysterious fogs didn’t just blow in by accident, so there had to be something causing it – something evil. The questers seemed to know that something was amiss and slipped out of the room unnoticed.

  The fog gradually cleared, revealing a hunched figure in a dark cloak, supported by a twisted walking stick. “Prince Hugh,” the figure rasped. “Come to me.” Hugh glanced at his father, and the King nodded. The Prince hesitantly got off of his chair and walked toward the figure. When he was a few feet away, the figure flipped back its hood, revealing a wrinkly old woman covered in tons of warts, causing Hugh to take a big step backward. He was almost certain that the old woman was one of the dreaded witches, the servants of evil, and known for putting curses on people. Of course, not all old women with warts are evil, but this one in particular seemed extra suspicious.

  “Prince Hugh,” the suspected witch said. “I have been told that you are a troublesome child, and I have come to deal with you. About a day’s journey away from here, there is a girl trapped in a tower. She has everything she needs to survive, and your job will be to simply guard her until she turns eighteen.”

  “How old is she now?” Hugh asked.

  “She just turned four years old.”

  Prince Hugh groaned in protest. “Fourteen years?!”

  “Yes.” The suspected witch turned to leave, and Hugh was just feeling relieved to not have an actual curse on him when she turned back. “One more thing.” The tip of her stick started glowing, and then she threw a ball of light at him.

  When the ball of light hit Hugh, it caused him to stumble backward. His skin began to stretch and harden, and his face started to elongate into a muzzle. The Prince looked at his hands and saw his skin turn to scales and his fingernails grow into claws. He grew bigger and bigger, his clothes getting shredded. Soon, he filled the entire throne room, and the King and his guards ran to get out of the way. Hugh’s long, scaley head broke through the roof, and he looked around the castle in surprise. The guards on the walls shouted up to him, but he was distracted by the fact that they looked less than half the size they should’ve been.

  Hugh could feel something sticking out of his back and some sort of long snake-like thing attached to his back end, and he experimentally flexed muscles that he didn’t have until just a minute ago. He could feel his new tail whack the side of the throne room, and his giant wings flapped the air. Curiously, Hugh flapped his wings more, and he felt himself slowly lifting above the castle.

  He flew over the castle walls and landed by the drawbridge, where the confirmed witch was somehow already waiting for him. He touched down with his two back legs, then settled onto four legs like an average animal. He gazed into the moat and found that he now held the appearance of a vicious dragon. He jerked his head away and looked at the witch with pleading eyes. “Can’t you reverse this?”

  The witch frowned at him. “It’s a curse. There’s only one way to get rid of it.” She pointed into the forest that surrounded the castle. “The girl’s tower is that way. Keep her in the tower until she turns eighteen, and you will be free of your curse. If she leaves the tower, you will remain a dragon for all time. She’s allowed to stick her head out or something like that, but anything more is tempting fate.”

  Hugh sighed. “Very well.” He steadily flapped his wings, exercising his new dragon body, and he lifted above the trees. As he flew in the direction the witch had pointed, he had to admit that it felt good to have the wind flowing around him, lifting him high into the sky.

  A few hours later, a tall tower came into view. Hugh landed at the base and decided to poke his head through the window at the top. A little girl came over to him and put her hands on his scaly snout. “Hi, dragon!” she said cheerfully. “I’m Violet! What’s your name?”

  “My name’s Hugh,” he replied. “Hugh the dragon.” Hugh gave her a toothy smile and was pleased to see her smile back. The little girl seemed to brighten the whole world with her energy.

  Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought.