The One-Eared King

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“Long, long ago, when the people and elves here still lived in peace, people told many stories. One such story was the story of the first elven king, Elderon the Great.” A grandfather told his grandchildren as they sat by the fire one evening.

“Will you tell it to us?” His grandson asked, practically bouncing with joy.
“Please, grandpa?” his granddaughter added.
The Grandfather laughed as he threw another log on the fire, and the children sat closer to him. As they stared at the fire, the flames were slowly replaced by forests and the border of the elven kingdom.

In a gentle voice, the Grandfather began to tell a story as old as time.
“At that time, the kingdom of the elves itself was hidden deep in the Dark Forest, behind the unfrozen waterfall of the Veritas River, from which many claimed that the very power of the elves originated.” The grandfather narrated in a deep voice.

“In the evergreen valley of Mount Mater, the elves made their homes. Their houses, which were as beautiful and magical as their owners, were built entirely of white celestial gold, which was found only in the mines of the celestial dwarves. The gold’s surface was so smooth that the moon and sun could see their reflection on it.

The very pointy roofs, which looked like wizards hats, were so high that many people’s myths and legends stated that they had hidden stairs to the kingdom of heaven. Of course, this was true, but the elves denied it.”
“That sounds so magical,” his granddaughter whispered, eyes twinkling as she imagined that time.
The grandfather nodded and went on, “but let’s return to our story, which began one autumn morning in the castle.”

“Majesty! Majesty! “The royal messenger stormed the throne room with unexpected news even for elven fortune tellers.
“The dwarves have found something in the mines!” The messenger said, gasping for breath.
A gasp sounded in the throne room as people leaned forward, eager to hear more.

“They think it might be one of the books!”
The books, These were not any set of books you could find in any library here, full of historical facts, sciences, tales, or ancient myths and legends. No, the very books the messenger spoke of were myths and legends passed down from king to king for centuries.

“It’s not possible!” Elderon the Great shouted, his voice shaking.
Like all other elves, Elderon was famous for his unsurpassed beauty. He had grass-green eyes and blond hair that shined like spun gold.

“They found it in the mines under the tomb of the gods,” the messenger explained as people continued to look expectantly at him.
The tomb of the gods was as great a myth as the books themselves. It was believed to be the place where three of the creators rested. Even the very existence of just one of the books could lead to interracial conflict.
The king of the elves stood up and declared, “have my army assembled at the palace gates right away!”

A great commotion befell the throne room, for everyone moved as fast as they could to carry out their ruler’s orders.
The king of the elves gathered his army and set out for the kingdom of the dwarves.
“Open the gates, in the name of the king!” he bellowed, his great army presenting a formidable force outside the dwarven kingdom.

The gates swung open, and the king and his army marched through the city.
“Your highness, what a surprise,” Greeted the Dwarf king. “To what do we owe the honor?”
“I demand to know the location of the tomb of the gods!” the king said without preamble.

The Dwarf King stuttered and stumbled over his words, unsure how to respond to the Elven king’s request, “the tomb of the gods? The location has been a mystery for centuries, I’m sure you know that.”
The elven king had no time for games or patience for old bumbling fools, so he destroyed the whole kingdom in search of the tomb of the gods and the book within.

At last, after a very long time, he discovered the tomb, stole the book, and returned victorious to his kingdom.
As soon as the king made it back to his palace, he gathered his most trusted servants, guards, smiths, and wizards.

To the wizards and smiths, he said, “I want chains forged of the strongest celestial gold, and have them enchanted by the most powerful wizards so that no one can steal the book.”
His most faithful pet, a two-meter black eagle, was assigned as the book’s guard.
But having the legendary book did not give the king peace of mind. The power of the book called to him constantly, even in his dreams.
“What is it you want from me!” the king often screamed in the middle of the night as he woke from night terrors.

The servants who attended to him exchanged worried looks, but none dared to say a word for fear of what would happen.
One evening, while everyone in the kingdom was asleep, the great king entered the library. He walked in numb feet towards the secret vault in the back.
A voice like autumn leaves tumbling on the ground called inside his head, “come to me. Come.”

His beloved eagle looked at him curiously as the king opened the vault and stepped inside the dark chamber.
In the center, laying on a pedestal of gold and bound in the enchanted chains he’d commissioned, was the secret book.
The king stared for a second at the mythical tome. It glowed in soft light, but his gaze fixed on the book’s cover, which shone brightest. He moved forward slowly and stretched out a hand.

As soon as his fingers touched the book’s old, thick leather cover, the chains broke and fell away with a clatter. The book’s pages fluttered as it opened. Black letters and spells flew around the chamber.
The king of the elves was so enchanted by the book’s power that night after night; he visited the hidden chamber in the library to study the book.

At first, everything seemed fine. The king learned and performed spells for vast treasures and for victories over enemies. But the more he studied the book, the more his heart became engulfed in its dark web of power. With each passing day that the king of the elves used the book, the kingdom perished more and more.

Discords, poverty, droughts, famine, conflicts between villages, towns, families, and friends slowly chipped away at the once peaceful kingdom. The elves’ mythical land became a gloomy reflection of its former beauty.
The moon stopped bathing the kingdom with her silvery glow. The leaves of the evergreen tall trees turned black, and the delicious fruit they produced rotted.

Even the water of the river, which divided the kingdom in two, turned red. The joyful fish, which until recently swam happily, became vicious predators. The darkness that erupted from the magic of the book engulfed the whole kingdom, sparing no one.
The king of the elves, who instilled hope and courage in everyone who looked at him, transformed into a heartless creature.
Every kindness and every joyful feeling in the hearts of the Elven people slowly vanished.

But as if that wasn’t enough, with a wave of his hand, the king was able to turn everyone who dared to oppose him into a stone statue.
The prince, who had seen all that the book did to the kingdom, confronted his father.
“Father, look at our kingdom, look at our people. This has to stop!”
But it was far too late, for darkness and thirst for power had consumed the Elven king’s heart.

The king rose from his throne and loomed over his son, his eyes dark pits full of hatred. “You dare order me, do you?”
The prince opened his mouth, ready to protest, but the king turned to his guards and roared, “Guards! Throw this ingrate creature into the darkest dungeon! Let him rot for the rest of his eternal life!”

The guards surrounded the prince and dragged him out of the throne room. They took him down many flights of stairs into a dark dungeon with many underground levels. They threw the young prince in the last cell of the lowest level, where darkness and damp, slimy walls were his only companion. For years the prince rotted in the dungeon, forgotten by all.

Meanwhile, the thirst for the other books and their power completely overwhelmed the elven king. He began to search for them without thinking about the destruction he would continue reigning across the world. He conquered kingdom after kingdom, but the books were well hidden, and he could not find them.

“Come on, where are you!” the king said after every failed attempt.
While the king carried his frantic search worldwide, the prince was busy with plans of his own. He’d befriended some of the guards and created a private messaging system. Through it, he was able to garnish the attention and loyalty of a group of rebel prisoners.

With their help he escaped successfully.
Instead of fleeing the castle and putting as much distance between themselves and the king as the others had done, the prince crept through the shadowy corridors towards his father’s chambers. He waited for his father to fall asleep and sneaked into the secret volt in the library where the book was kept.

The prince swallowed hard as he saw the majestic eagle standing guard, but as he got closer, he saw it was asleep. With his heart thundering with every step he took, the prince made it past the eagle and into the chamber.
The book did not look so impressive to the prince. He frowned as he grabbed it.
Suddenly, the black eagle opened its eyes and began to shout, “A thief! Thief! “

The loud noise woke the king of the elves. Upon seeing his son with the book, the king immediately ordered, “Kill him!”
The guards grabbed hold of the prince and dragged him away towards the waterfall. However, the guards had seen what the magic of the book did to the kingdom; when they reached the crown of the waterfall, they released the prince, saying, “Run and don’t look back!”
The prince blinked up at them, confused. But he was unable to say a word, for he was swiftly pushed off the waterfall.

To prove that the prince had been killed, one of the guards stabbed the prince’s left ear with his sword as the prince fell.
When they appeared before the king, his majesty asked, ” well, is it done?”
The guard boldly stepped forward, and in answer, he threw the prince’s ear at the king’s feet.
The king threw his head back, and his evil laughter echoed on the walls of the throne room.

“Excellent,” the king said, pleased. “For your unwavering loyalty, I grant you the title of chief warrior.”
The prince, who happened to have survived the fall, went around the world without looking back but with a promise in his heart that one day he would save his kingdom and restore the former glory of his people.
“In honor of their dead prince, the other faithful servants cut off their left ears. From there comes the myth of the one-eared elves.”

The Grandfather concluded his tale.
” What happened to the one-eared prince?” the little boy asked sleepily.
“No one knows,” Grandpa murmured, picking up the sleepy children and carrying them to their beds. As he did so, his silvery hair slid back, revealing a missing ear!
The girl and boy spotted it at the same time. Their eyes widened with the realization.

“I bet he went on to dual with dragons and wizards and returned to avenge his fallen kingdom, and then married a beautiful Elvin princess,” the little girl mumbled dreamily and winked at her brother.
The Grandfather laughed softly, placed a kiss on their heads, and whispered, “sweet dreams, little ones, may they take you back to the land where legends are found, and stories are made.”

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Let our children not grow up in a terrible world. Together we can make it better. It is our destiny to
suffer from the past, to long for the future, but to forget the present.
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