A MOST OUTRAGEOUS Fairy Tale

For the Judith Heartsong March artsy essay contest...

   Once upon a time, in a far off land, there lived a young Prince.  Prince Credulorum, for that was his name, upon attaining his twenty-first year, began the study of statecraft at his father's directive. His father, King Boldinough, then approaching his fortieth birthday, had grown weary of the demands of kingship, and wished to abdicate the throne in favour of his heir.
   Credulorum approached the thought of governance with some trepidation. He had enjoyed being a Crown Prince. His days normally consisted of playing polo, and reviewing troops, and occasionally going to state functions of other kingdoms his father considered too unimportant for his own attention. He did not think he wanted to take on the responsibility of Kingship. He lacked the self confidence that his father had displayed throughout his reign.
   As the date of his coronation approached, he became increasingly nervous. One cool spring day, as he sat by the river contemplating his future kingship, he was approached by a small creature. Manlike in appearance, but only about three feet tall, this being was clad in earth toned felt vest and breeches. A vivid white beard hung down to the centre of his expansive belly, and a tall pointed red hat perched jauntily upon his head. Perhaps you recognise this little fellow? Yes, indeed, he was a gnome.
    Now gnomes, as everybody knows, are busybodies by nature, and cannot help but stick their noses into other people's business whenever the opportunity arises. This particular gnome had been watching Credulorum mope about for several days, and had put his ear to the ground about the town, to collect whatever information he could on what might be bothering the young Prince. As such, he was already quite well informed about Credulorum's situation before ever he approached.
   "My good Prince," he said, as popped up from behind rock. "Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Count Rippinuov, master of mysteries. I am here to help you in your time of need." The little gnome essayed a deep, formal bow; a surprising feat for a creature of his girth, let me tell you. As he straightened, he looked the Prince in the eye, and murmured, "assuming the responsibility of one's birthright can be a frightening proposition."
   Now Prince Credulorum was startled by the wee fellow's statement. He had never before seen the chap. He was quite sure there was no Count Rippinuov at his father's court. How could the gnome have known what it was that bothered him? "My good gentleman," he said to the bearded creature, "how is it that you know the thoughts and feelings of my innermost heart?"
   Count Rippinuov allowed a swift smile to play across his face, and once again bowed deeply. "The mysteries of a man's heart, mind, and soul are readable by one versed in the sacred arts of divinarcation, and remunerology, my Lord," he replied. "As are," he added, "the shadowy paths of the future." As he finished saying the words, he added a sly wink for effect.
   "Do you mean," asked Credulorum haughtily, "that you will tell me what to do?"
   The gnome put a hand to his mouth in mock astonishment (actually, he was covering another smile). "My good Prince," he exclaimed. "A mere creature like myself could never presume to instruct royalty. What I can do, is to make somewhat more clear the various potential outcomes of different paths of action. Simply said, I can provide information invaluable to you in your own decision making process. Information, I might add, that is not available anywhere else, for I am the only legitimate practicer of bilateral-incendiary-revelabism in the kingdom." He made a third, sweeping bow, and remained prostrate, waiting.
   "Well, perhaps it can't hurt, can it? What can you tell me?"
   Count Rippinuov popped to his feet with a grand smile upon his face. "If my Lord could but accompany me to my humble abode, I will perform the mystical flambatorous revebilation. I need only some small amount of fire wood for this task."
   So, Prince Credulorum followed Count Rippinuov over the small footbridge, and along a small path through the woods. As he went, he collected fallen wood from beside the trail at the behest of his guide. "Surely you don't need this much wood for one fire," the Prince asked from behind a pile of branches that reached the top of his nose?
   "My dear Prince," replied the Gnome. "You must forgive me. This art, while highly precise and successful, is not an exact science. It is possible, if the paths of the future are quite clouded, that more than one fire may be necessary. Why, I once needed six distinct fires to solve a particularly difficult problem. While I have high hopes that tonight that intense effort will not be needed, it never hurts to be prepared." Credulorum had to admit the wisdom inherent in that statement, and he complained no more. Presently, he was able to deposit his load beside the door to the small hovel the Gnome called home.
   As it happened, Rippinuov needed only a few twigs to cast his foretelling. As they crackled merrily in the fire pit, he waved his hands around rhythmically, sending wisps of smoke around the room, and into Credulorum's eyes. At the very moment the Prince blinked due to the stinging of the woodsmoke, the little Gnome clapped his hands and yelled, "aha! There it is."
   Credulorum wiped desperately at his eyes, but they stung too much to open, and he could not see that about which Rippinuov had exclaimed. "What, what," he shouted?
   "Did you not see it, my Lord," asked the Gnome? "Right there, clear as day. I saw a vision of the throne room, the beautiful red carpet leading up to the golden throne. I saw you sitting on that throne, my Lord, a great crown on your head, and a sceptre in your hand. You were dispensing wisdom and justice, and your people loved you."
   Now, the Prince was astounded by this vision. He was quite sure Count Rippinuov could have no knowledge of the upcoming abdication of the King. There were some odd details, though. He pointed out to Rippinuov that the long carpet in the throne room was blue, and that his father's throne was made of carved wood, and that the crown of his kingdom was a simple silver circlet upon the King's brow. Rippinuov just smiled his enigmatic smile and pointed out that those things were true today, but who could tell what the future might hold. "Did you see anything else," asked Credulorum?
   "Well, yes, now you mention it," replied the Count. "I do not pretend to understand it, though. In my vision, just behind the throne, where a King's trusted advisor might stand, I saw...me."

   Prince Credulorum made his way slowly through the darkening woods back towards the castle, with many thoughts spinning through his head. He had much thinking to do, but the Gnome's prognostication seemed to indicate that he would, indeed, ascend to the throne as his father planned, and be successful there, and that was heartening. He made a decision at that moment to apply himself to the lessons of statecraft his father's chancellor was teaching with renewed vigour to become the best King he could be.
   That night, the Gnome who called himself Count Rippinuov was as warm as could be beside a merry fire made with wood he did not need to collect himself.

...to be continued.