Here is a bit of light reading that proves I am not completely fixated on politics. It is a short fairy tale that I wrote for an assignment in my LIST course at UALR. It is loosely based on an experience I had as a child. On the day of my fateful experience I had been playing with some of my friends along the edge of the woods, and we had spent quite a bit of time chasing each other and trying to pop small puffball mushrooms in each others' faces. We had had a blast trying to make each others' faces turn green from the powder , but we all become very ill later that evening. I will never forget my mother holding me that night as I felt what seemed like icy cold fingers gripping the inside of my chest. I obviously recovered from that rather scary experience, but it provided the inspiration for this little tale. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Jonathan Reed

Dr. Franks

Liberal Arts Colloquium

February 18, 2013

Prince Andy’s Black Feather

A very long time ago, in a place so very far away, there lived a young prince named Andy.  Andy lived in an enchanted land where children could run and play just about anywhere they wanted to, and no one would do them any harm. This was because King Eric and his knights were so very fierce in protecting the kingdom that witches and ogres, giants and goblins all ran away whenever they even heard the sound of horse’s hooves. But in spite of his fierce reputation, King Eric loved Andy so much that he did everything he could to help the young boy grow up to be a good and kind prince. King Eric was stern, but he was also kind at heart, and since he wanted Andy to grow up to be strong and wise he made sure that the little prince had plenty of places to run and play with his friends after he had finished all of his lessons.

So it happened that one bright summer day Andy went out to play in the meadows beside the woods where all of the fairies live. Several of his friends met him underneath the spreading branches of an old oak tree. They all decided to run and play along the edge of the woods where the mushrooms and toadstools grow. That day when they met at their usual spot, an old black crow was making an awful racket as he scolded them from the branches of their favorite oak tree. They all looked at each other and laughed.  Then they went off to play without a care in the world, and none of them paid any further attention to the heckling calls of that old black crow.

Now there was an old warlock who hated King Eric because the good king had made it so very hard for the warlock and all of his evil friends to snatch the children they liked to use to make their potions and puddings, sausages and spells. He had sent a letter to King Eric and told him to leave the witches and ogres, giants and goblins alone. Here is what that old warlock wrote:

King Eric,

You should be happy to suffer the loss of a few poor, insignificant children from the edges of your realm now and then in order to ensure that prince Andy grows up in safety. If you are a clever king, you will understand that you should just tell your knights to leave all of the witches and ogres, giants and goblins alone. If you do not learn to see things my way, then who knows what will become of that precocious young heir to your crown.

Vahndahl the Varlock

Now Eric was a very good king so he quickly responded by sending out even more knights to guard and protect every child in his kingdom from the warlock and all of his evil friends. This made the old warlock very angry so he disguised himself as a crow in order to get close enough to hurt Prince Andy.  The crafty old warlock knew that a crow was much too small to carry away a child, but he wanted to make King Eric wish he had never crossed Vahndahl the Varlock, so he cooked up his most powerful spell. He created a poison powder he could carry under his wings. He had sprinkled this vile green poison in those puffy little mushrooms the children liked to squish when they played in the grass at the edge of the woods where all of the fairies live. So while Andy and his friends were playing that morning and stomped on those puffy mushrooms and tossed them around in the air, the old warlock chuckled to himself because he knew that Andy and his friends would soon be dead.

But Andy’s mother had a secret she had never told anyone. She was the Queen of the Fairies that lived out there in the woods. She knew all about the evil magic that the old warlock used. When Prince Andy became very sick, he knew that something was terribly wrong. This was no ordinary case of the sniffles; Andy had never been so sick before. He knew he had made some grave mistake but he could not figure out what it was. There was just one thing to do; he had to find the smartest person he knew. He went to his mother and told her everything that had happened that day. The Queen of the fairies knew exactly what the old warlock had done. She called for her huntsman, gave him some arrows, and sent him right out in the woods. She then called a meeting of all of the fairies and told seven of them to make the huntsman’s feet completely silent. She told twelve fairies to sprinkle him with invisible powder so the warlock could not see him come. Then she sent seventy fairies to take special cures to all of the children who had been poisoned by the evil warlock that day.

When everyone had gone, Andy called out to his mother as he felt the cold fingers of death encircle his beating heart. She took him in her arms and softly whispered some very old but powerful words as she gently kissed the forehead of her dying son. Instantly his fever broke and he fell safely asleep in her arms. The magical cure she had used would make Andy sleep quietly for a whole day before he could get up and play. She quickly called to her maidens who helped her place Andy on a beautiful funeral bier. She had them all prepare the procession for the next morning and then she waited for the breaking of dawn.

As the first rays of sunshine peeled back the layer of fog that had spread itself across the meadow where the royal funeral pyres were always laid, the silent procession proceeded from the castle with the queen and her ladies all shrouded in black. Overhead the wings of an old black crow flapped silently as the old warlock settled down among branches of the old oak tree. He sat and chuckled to himself as he watched the servants pile up the wood for a royal funeral pyre. But as he watched he could not help but notice that the pile of wood seemed far too small to lift Andy’s soul to the sky.  It was then that he noticed that the pyre was not in the usual place. In fact it was next to the dunghill. For a moment he knew that his plan had gone wrong. It was only a small moment, but it was enough; as the huntsman’s arrow pierced his breast, the warlock knew that his disguise could never have been enough to fool the Queen of the Fairies. As the fire of the poison she had placed on tip of her huntsman’s arrow burned deep in his chest, the smile on the queen’s face told the warlock that the pyre they laid was for him. As his black feathers flew all around him, the queen and her ladies threw their black shawls to the ground. This would be a day of dance and celebration, not the funeral the warlock had planned. As the celebration began, his last breath escaped him and he plummeted to the ground. The last thing he saw was the peaceful smile on Andy’s young face and the steady rise and fall of his chest. That day was a great celebration that went on until the fading of the light, until every last ember from that funeral pyre had vanished into the blackness of the night. Through all this noise and commotion Andy just slept, and continued his peaceful dreams until dawn.

Andy never knew what happened that day, but when he grew up he would often lie down in the shade of that old oak tree where he would twirl the big black feather he had found on the ground below where the old crow had perched. He would look at it and wonder whatever had happened to that heckling old crow in the tree. A lot of things had changed, but King Eric and his knights still patrolled the whole of his kingdom, and children still played without a care in the world. King Eric never knew that his wife was actually the Queen of the Fairies, but that didn't matter because they were both happy and they were very proud of the son they had raised. Their kingdom remained a wonderful place that was filled with love, life, and laughter for many generations to come.

As we finish our tale of things that have passed

We should always remember the things that come last.

So with no further fanfare we should all take note

How the Queen of the Fairies taught Andy two things

That every young prince should know.

There is no warlock who can cast a spell as strong as a mother’s love

And there is no evil poison that cannot be overcome

By the magic and comfort of her warm gentle kiss