Last week the King had stopped Froy and his Father from getting booted from the front door of the castle [read last week’s installment]
The King jumped down from the rose and embraced Father “Brother how are you doing? Have not seen you in forever.”
The king Stepped back, “Now what is this about important stuff?”
“Brother, your Highness, my boy, here, Froy, well he was taking care of the Egg, ya know, mossing and anyway he threw some grass and the Egg cracked! So anyway we came to tell you”
Wheat gave a gasp, as did the guards, but the King just smiled.
“This is great News! Come in…let us talk. Wheat show them to the throne room. Clive, I shall be there shortly.”
Froy and father stood before the king in his throne room. While the King and Father talked, Froy looked around. It was quite impressive in this room. Although all Fairies were welcomed into the castle, Froy had never come before. He really had no use for stuffy pageants and whatnot. The room was very shiny. There was gold gilt everywhere and there were eggs everywhere…all shapes, size and all made of jewels and gems and just about anything you could think of.
Father’s voice brought Froy’s attention back to the conversation.
“The legend is true? Really?” Father looked incredulous at the King. “Those are children’s stories, heck I told Froy here those stories when he was new!”
The king nodded his head. “They are true. The whole thing. They are no legend, no bedtime story. Truth.
Why do you think we have the Festival of the Egg every year? Heck, even Froy here could tell you that you grownups do not do anything unless there is a reason. The reason for our party every year is the legend of the Egg. Right Froy?”
“Uh.yea..The stories are legend. Your Highness. Of course you are right.” Froy did not want to be dragged into this conversation. Besides the king had lost it….he was slouched on a throne in a room with a bunch of eggs and saying that children’s tales were true.
The King looked at Froy for a few minutes before busting out in laughter. He looked a Father and said,
“Brother my nephew is something else. Stories are legend indeed.”
Getting up, the King walked over to a very old dusty looking book sitting on a pedestal.
This is the original legend written down by my Father Rumple oh so long ago. It is all here, the whole story ‘cept for one thing. Why. For some reason Rumple did not write down why. He wrote how the egg appeared and how we were charged with caring for it. He wrote that it was the male children who musts do so. Rumple wrote down how the spell that protects us came to be. He even wrote down what was to happen when the Egg cracked. Which is, of course, what we are going to do. It is time to call the priests and gather everyone. It will be two days hence. And of course Froy, you will be there, all young men will.”
The village had been busier than Froy could ever remember, fairies running around gathering items, the girls were getting all prettified, the adults fixing stuff. Well, actually, Froy had no idea what they were all doing. He had pretty much been able to avoid all the activity. As far as he could tell they were going to have a bonfire with lots of food, Froy liked that idea. And the best thing, he had not had to go and take care of the Egg. There was a bunch of priests who had been swarming all over the darn things, singing song, praying, rubbing their chins and nodding their heads. They had chased Froy off when he showed up to take care of the nest. Froy was delighted. He had spent the time getting more breakfast from his mother.
The whole festival, bonfire feast thing was a few hours away. Mother and Father had been looking for Froy. He avoided them. He had overheard his older brother telling his friends that they all needed to get dressed up in finery for the festival. Froy was having nothing to do with the scratchy pants and cloaks and he sure was not going to wear that stupid hat with eggs on it. So, he had managed to find a little spot behind his tree. Froy yawned. Maybe a little nap before the feast thing was in order. Froy reach around and gathered up some of the little leaves and moss, laid his head down and fell asleep.