Prin

PRIN

Aurorem. It isn't big nor is it small. You may just say that it is. You cannot find it in this world for it is another world entirely. There are many stories and tales as there are in our own world. This is just one of them: The Tale of Young Prin, told by the Masters of Old.

If you were to look at a map of Aurorem, you would see a large body of land, near the northern pole. On the eastern side of that land, in the forests of the Unicorn Vale, you can make out busy towns, some of elves but most of men. The biggest is called Micryst. And if you were to look at a map of Micryst, you would see many small neat rows of houses. The brightly decorated one with purple vines climbing the walls is Prin's house.

Prin ducked out of the larder, clutching a number of items to his chest. He dumped them down on the kitchen table and stood up straight. Prin did not like work, not unless he wasn't the one working. He wasn't lazy exactly, just accustomed to having things done for him. Hefting the large bag of potatoes from under the table, he picked up a knife and began to peel. But something interrupted Prin's usual preciseness. A blare of trumpets and the roll of drumbeats made him jump and cut his finger. The call to the people of Micryst.

Holding a pale cloth around his bleeding fingertip, Prin ran from the house to join the milling throng of people that had gathered in the main street. The noise did not relent until a small carriage-box type object was lifted into view by two royal guards. Silence was only broken by the confused murmurings in the crowd. They all waited.

King Sesterbloi the Third stepped regally from the carriage-box and held aloft his hands to quieten the applause from the people. When it died, his majesty coughed, patted his stomach and announced in the grandest voice he could muster,

"My dear people of Micryst! It is my duty…to tell you…of a quest…that has come upon us…quite unexpectedly…and to inform you…that we need someone…to undertake this quest."

A shudder seemed to pass through the crowd. Glances were passed and hurried whisperings. The neat and tidy residents of nice and peaceful Micryst did not go on quests. Quests were for wild, uncivilised folk such as those who lived in the mountains in the north.

Nobody answered. Except for sensible Prin. Perhaps he was not all that sensible as so many people had thought before now. He raised a hand and waved it about.

"I'll go, your majesty. Just one thing. What do we have to do?"

The King looked delighted and did a little jig.

"Oh fantastic! Now…young man I need to warn you…this quest…may be very…dangerous…full of perils…and suchlike…you may not even return."

"Yes, but what I have to achieve? What am I aiming for?"

"Ah yes…well, lad…the letter we got…said that you…had to…"

The crowd held its breath.

"Had to…go and kill a bothersome…worm."

Prin shook his head in disbelief.

"What? A worm? As in small pink wriggly things? I've got to kill a worm?"

"No, see, this worm…is…very…very…very…very…big. In fact…it is nearly…as big…as the town of…Labry…itself.