The Grapes of Arathas

 

The Grapes of Arathas

Prince Chauncey recounts a short fairy tale about a wizard’s daughter, a lonely prince and a vine who find true purpose in helping each other.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fluttering her wings, Alexandra hung stands of spaghetti on the rack to dry. She was BORED. After turning everything in Arathas purple for the Annual Grape Festival, she had spent the last three weeks making spaghetti in the noodle shop for the festival meal. Unfortunately, the pasta she created using magic was inedible. So it all had to be made by hand.

She looked over at her friend Prince Chauncey. He was sitting on an invisible tuffet, knitting mittens. Alexandra flipped her wand around, making stars appear like fireworks.

“Aren’t you supposed to be making noodles?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why else would I be in a noodle shop in the middle of the hottest month in Arathas?”

“You’re being sarcastic. Preserving the traditions of the first Grape Fairy is a great honor.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You never heard the story? What rock have you been under?”

“Shut up or I’ll cast a spell on you.”

“You won’t hear the story then.”

“Ok,” she said, plopping down beside the Prince. “I do love stories.”

“Here,” he said, handing her a pair of mittens. ”Put these on.”

“But why? It’s too hot!”

“Just do it. Do you think I sat here making them so no one but me will wear them?”

“Why do you wear them?” she asked.

“Did you forget? Objects talk to me if I touch them. I wear mittens to keep things quiet.”

“All right already, tell me the story,” she said, impatiently stuffing her hands in the mittens.

“Well, once upon a time in the land of Arathas there was a lonely Prince, his name was Forlorn. Prince Forlorn was very, very lonely. One day he was walking in the forest and he came across a green vine that was just hanging around hugging onto trees. There was water dripping from the vine, but it wasn’t raining. The Prince was intrigued, so he looked closer. He saw that the drops were actually tears coming from the leaves. Why are you crying, asked Prince Forlorn, pulling off his mittens to touch the leaves.”

“Wait, what?” Alexandra scowled.

“He was gifted like me.” Prince Chauncey smirked.

“Get back to the story!” Alexandra whined.

“Okay!” Chauncey said, “Uh…Oh yeah. The vine said sadly, I cry because I have no purpose. But you have beautiful leaves, Forlorn protested. The vine shuddered. It said, yeah leaves, what can you do with leaves. Forlorn sprang to his feet. Let’s go see the wizard, he said. The vine wrapped around the Prince and they proceeded through the dark forest to the grand castle of Wizard Whitestone. They found him pacing in front of the castle. Prince Forlorn walked up and asked if something was wrong.

My beautiful daughter Charlotte has been kidnapped, the wizard moaned and I’ll give anything to save her. The Prince said, give this vine a purpose and give me a girlfriend to keep me company. Hum, maybe, find my daughter and I will give that vine a fabulous purpose and you a beautiful companion, the wizard promised.

So the Prince and the vine set out to find the wizards daughter. After they walked a long way, they stopped to rest on a ridge above a stream. As they sat on a log, they heard a voice shouting. Help, help, please someone help me.

Prince Forlorn stood up and looked down at the stream. There was a ledge halfway between the water and the ridge. Low and behold, on the ledge was the Wizard’s daughter. Oh kind sir, help me, she cried I have fallen on this ledge and dropped my wand into the water. I can’t get up or down. Being very quick witted, Forlorn unwound the vine from his waist. He lowered one end to the girl. She clutched the vine and he pulled her up.

Oh you have saved me from certain death, she sighed. I have been on that ledge for two days. My father will surely reward you. The Prince said let’s make up a good story for her father. Rescuing you from that ledge might not merit a reward, since you weren’t kidnapped. Charlotte smiled and said, let me handle this.

When they got back to the Castle, the Wizard hugged his daughter. He asked how they got back so quickly. Charlotte threw her arms in the air. Oh father, the Prince was so brave, she said. He fought off the fierce Curtople Dragon who stole my wand and put me on a ledge by the river. I am most sure the dragon meant to harm me. The Prince fought him for hours. The dragon spit fire at him and yet he persevered. Cleverly, he used the vine to trip the dragon and it fell into the river and was swept away. Oh my, the wizard said.

Wizard Whitestone took the vine from Prince Forlorn. Holding it up, he said, I command that from this day forward this vine will give forth juicy fruit which will be called Grapes. The vine raised its leaves. It looked like it was smiling. He turned to Prince Forlorn. I give you Charlotte as your companion. She will travel with you to Arathas. Her power will ensure the vine will flourish. You will arrange a celebration, to be called the Grape Festival in honor of this vine. And so they traveled to Arathas and lived happily ever after.”

“Wow,” said Alexandra, looking at Prince Chauncey. “That’s some fairy tale.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Can I take these mittens off now?”

“Yep.” He said, “Now why don’t you finish making those noodles before this shop opens for the festival.”

Moral: Sometimes our purpose is not always obvious.

Now eat your spaghetti and grapes. Oh yeah, Happy Grape Festival.