September 4, 2017

Once in a land lost long ago, the royal family despaired. Each of the fourteen regal sons of the regal lord and regal lady had failed to free the land from the shackles of enchantment which rendered the land’s every living creature clumsy. Constantly heard were cries of ‘Sorry about that’ and ‘Whoops’, not to mention baser shouts of disappointment and frustration. Falling into streams and cleaning up spilled milk were common sights. And the despair reached its peak when the citizenry realized all hope was now to be pinned on the regal pair’s youngest child and only daughter, Candelabra. To that end, she was summoned into the presence of her regal parental pair.

“It’s up to you now,” said the regal lord from where he had most recently fallen.

“Yes, that is so,” confirmed the regal lady, accidentally knocking a goblet full of nectar from the arm of her throne.

“Finally,” said Candelabra, and she turned and marched confidently from the great hall into the courtyard, through the ornate entrance, across the drawbridge and into the stand of slender trees beyond the moat.

“Is it safe?” whispered a voice from above. Tree foliage rustled. An elderly crone thrust her head out through the leafy curtain.

“Yes. I don’t have to pretend to be clumsy any more. They have at last asked me to end the enchantment which they should have done in the first place I don’t have to tell you,” said Candelabra with a measure of indignation.

“Fools must fail again and again before they turn to the wise,” whispered the crone. “Here. Throw it in the moat.”

Candelabra bent down and picked up the coin dropped by the crone. The crone smiled and wisped away. Candelabra threw the coin into the placid water of the moat. Clumsiness was only an unpleasant memory throughout the land.

In the end when she came to be the lone regal, Candelabra ruled wisely and warily.

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