Beautiful is the Land of Glowing Embers, near to the Palace of King Red
Flame. When morning dawns, a light soft and rosy bathes its castles and
its gardens. At noonday, its pale sweet glow burns to a richer glory,
and a flush of deepest rose ascends over turrets and blossoming trees.
With nightfall, a purple splendor settles over all things while its
peaceful fairies sleep. Set in the midst of it is the home of Prince
Ember, the fairy palace of Good Cheer.
In his favorite room in the palace Prince Ember sat alone, in deep
thought. Spread open upon the table before him was a thick volume,
written in the ancient fairy language, filled with tales of fairy
adventure of a far off time. As he read and pondered them, his heart was
filled with longing that he, too, might go upon some dangerous quest,
might win some noble victory. His domain was quiet. His servants were
happy and at peace. He knew of nothing that could call him forth.
Tall and straight of limb and very handsome was this prince of the Land
of Glowing Embers. Ruddy gold was his hair, like the fire when it glows
most richly. His eyes were bright and kind. The cloak that hung from his
shoulders was deep red and fell over red garments of yet deeper hue.
From his round red cap a black feather drooped to mingle with the glory
of his hair.
As yet he had no princess, for as yet he had seen none who stirred his
heart, though for want of her he was sometimes lonely, even in his
Palace of Good Cheer.
The fairies of his dominions loved him well and served him with zeal,
for none was kinder, none more nobly just, than their own Prince Ember.
Sitting in his palace on this summer evening, he remembered the brave
deeds which Prince Radiance had lately done,—deeds not less splendid
than these which were written in this ancient book.
And while he sighed, because he felt that for him there could be no such
high adventures, Rushing Flame was speeding toward his palace, on the
errand of the King. The messenger gave no heed, in his swift passing,
to the loveliness of the land, but turning neither to right nor left,
came straight to the arched and golden gate that gave entrance to the
gardens of the Prince.
Like an arrow he sped through it and on to the palace door. An Ember
Fairy opened to his knock and, when he told his business, led him
quickly to the Prince.
“Your Highness,” he announced, “Rushing Flame is here, with a message
from the King.”
“Speak, Rushing Flame,” commanded the Prince. “What word do you bring me
from His Majesty?”
“That you will come to him at once,” the messenger replied. “There are
important matters that require your presence.”
“Know you aught of what these matters may be?” demanded Prince Ember.
“This much only I may tell you, Your Highness. They concern a dangerous
and difficult adventure. More than this you must learn from the King
himself,” answered Rushing Flame.
Prince Ember sprang to his feet, his eyes kindling with eagerness. “See
that my horse is brought quickly to the palace door,” he cried to the
Ember Fairy, who still lingered near, “for I go in haste to my uncle,
the King.”
The fairy obeyed, and presently the hoof-beats of the ruddy charger that
bore the Prince resounded on the road that led to the Palace of Burning
Coals.
A good steed and a swift, was he. Before Rushing Flame, with all his
speed, had gone half the distance homeward, the Prince alighted at the
door of his uncle’s palace and a moment later presented himself before
the King.
“Ah, my dear Ember,” exclaimed King Red Flame, grasping his hand, “your
presence is most earnestly desired, for there has come to us a servant
of the Shadow Witch, beseeching help for her mistress, who now lies
captive to her brother, the Wizard of the Cave of Darkness. This
punishment he inflicts upon her, because of her kindness to Prince
Radiance and my daughter. Gladly would Prince Radiance prove his
gratitude by hasting to her deliverance, but the Wise One has declared
that it would be in vain—has declared that it is yourself, and none
other, who is fated to set her free. Since this is so, is it your desire
to go upon this adventure?”
“Ah, Your Majesty!” cried Prince Ember, his countenance glowing with
ardor, “no task could be more welcome. I am ready to set forth
immediately.”
The King was greatly pleased, and Creeping Shadow, her anxious fears at
rest, bowed herself at Prince Ember’s feet in gratitude too deep for
speech. The hearts of Prince Radiance and Princess White Flame
overflowed with joy since the deliverance of the Shadow Witch seemed now
assured, and their happiness was reflected in the faces of all the
fairies gathered there.
King Red Flame spoke again. “That your success in this adventure may be
made certain, you must first go to the Wise One and receive his
instructions. If you obey them, he assures me that you cannot fail.”
“I will give good heed to them,” Prince Ember promised him.
So saying he took his leave and followed by Creeping Shadow, set out on
foot for the home of the Wise One.
The queer little hut where the Wise One lived was not far off, and soon
they stood before its door. Creeping Shadow looked with astonishment at
its bright red walls, covered with magic inscriptions, whose meaning was
hidden from all but the Wise One. She beheld with amazement the
chimneys, like lighted torches, that topped its roof and the blazing
flame-bushes that surrounded it. When the Prince knocked on the quaintly
carved door and entered at the Wise One’s word, she drew back quickly
and seated herself under a flame-bush until he should again appear.
Within the hut the Prince found the aged fairy awaiting him. “Hail,
Prince Ember,” said he, rising to greet him. “You go upon a noble
quest.”
“I go gladly,” replied the Prince, and the words came from his heart.
“You must not go unprepared,” returned the Wise One. “Upon those fairy
gifts that you carry with you, upon the use that you make of them, the
success of your adventure depends.”
“And what shall these gifts be?” inquired the Prince.
“First of all, a sword,” was the instant answer. “A fairy sword of
power.”
“Alas!” sighed the Prince. “That I do not possess.”
“It can be provided,” returned the Wise One, smiling. He stepped to an
ancient chest, deeply carved with mystic signs, that stood quite by
itself in a corner of the hut. From out that chest many magic gifts had
come, when need was great. Filled to the brim with treasures as it
always was, none saw aught within but those gifts which were for his
own use.
The Wise One bent down and fitted a key in the lock. After its manner
the key turned of itself in the lock; after its manner the lid rose of
itself upon its huge hinges.
“Come,” said the Wise One, “and behold your sword.”
Prince Ember stepped quickly to his side. Before his eyes, close
sheathed in its shining scabbard, lay the fairy sword of power. A thrill
of awe passed through him at the sight.
“Take it,” commanded the Wise One.
The Prince lifted it out, and as he unsheathed it, at the Wise One’s
word, it filled the hut with a burning glow. Heat, intense and ardent,
streamed from it, making warm the air.
“This is the Sword of Fire,” the ancient fairy told him. “As potent it
will be in your hands and for your use, as was the Sword of Flames in
the hands of Prince Radiance. In every danger that you must meet, over
every obstacle that you must encounter, save one, it will be
victorious.”
Prince Ember’s heart beat fast. “And for that other?” he asked eagerly.
“For that, also, I have a gift,” was the answer. “Look within the chest
once more and you will see.”
Leaning down the Prince peered into the dimness of the chest. “There is
a small round box,” he said.
“Take it, and open it,” commanded the Wise One.
Obediently Prince Ember drew it forth and undid its clasp. He looked
within and saw a bit of charcoal, black and glistening; nothing more. He
regarded it with astonishment. “What power has this to help me?” he
inquired.
“Its power is great,” returned the Wise One, gravely. “Guard it with
care. When escape for yourself and for the Shadow Witch seems
impossible, take it out, and cast it boldly into the midst of the danger
that threatens you, and by its good spell your way to safety will be
made clear.”
The Prince thanked him. He closed the box, and placed it carefully in
his breast.
“In order that you may succeed in this undertaking,” continued his
adviser, “you must be able to reach the prison of the Shadow Witch
unseen. You know, as well as I, that among the good fairies of the Fire,
only the Ember Fairies have power to become entirely invisible. Within
the Wizard’s Cave your own magic will serve to make you so, but in the
Plain outside you must have the Cloak of Ash.”
“This, also, you will give me?” demanded the Prince with quickening
breath.
“Nay, I have it not,” answered the Wise One, shaking his head. “Only the
Elf of the Borderland can bestow this upon you, for he alone, together
with his elves, possesses the secret of its making. Moreover it must be
woven in the presence of him who is to wear it; otherwise it has no
power. Go to him and ask it. He will not refuse you. Creeping Shadow,
who knows where he is to be found, will guide you to him. Do in all
things as I have advised you, and you will not fail.”
So Prince Ember, with grateful words bade the Wise One good-bye and
departed with his gifts, and as he left the hut, Creeping Shadow arose
from her seat beneath the flame-bush and came to walk beside him and
guide him to the Borderland.
Quite alone, in the Borderland, stands the house of the good grey Elf.
Its door was fast shut and its windows closed when Prince Ember and
Creeping Shadow approached it. The thick thatch of ash which covered its
roof and came low down upon its walls so concealed it from view, that
had he been without his companion to guide him, the Prince might have
sought for it long in vain.
When they had reached it, Creeping Shadow stood still. “This is the
house of the Elf,” she said. Then, turning, she pointed to a high black
cliff that rose in the distance. “And yonder is the Cave of Darkness,
where the Wizard dwells, and my poor mistress lies imprisoned. As soon
as you have left the Elf, lose no time in reaching her, I beg of you,
for the Wizard is very cruel, and I know not what he may do to her if
help is long delayed. When you have climbed the steep path which leads
up the cliff-side, you will behold the entrance to the cavern yawning
before you. As for myself, I shall return now to the Land of Shadows, to
await in hope the homecoming of my mistress.”
She turned again and struck upon the Elf’s door thrice. It was the
signal of the servants of the Shadow Witch. In silence the door swung
open, and the Prince set his foot upon the threshold.
“Farewell, noble and generous Prince,” murmured Creeping Shadow. “Good
speed, and a safe return.”
“Farewell,” said Prince Ember. “Rest confident that I shall bring home
the Shadow Witch in triumph.” He passed within, and as silently as it
had opened, the door closed upon him.
[Illustration]