The Faraway Kingdom
The prince had arrived at the peak of the Graulumberg Mountains as a frightened young boy, but he left as a strong young man with a flower pressed in his pocket and a mangy dog at his heels.
It had been a very long time since he’d been outside Fyren’s castle grounds, and he’d forgotten how cold and treacherous the mountain was. He managed to make it down, but even darker trouble was lurking for him in the Verzanfrost Woods.
Brenn was careful not to use his powers of wishing, as there were too many people inhabiting the woods. They were all dark, evil folk, and they would do anything to get their hands on a power like his. He had to keep it secret, even when the wild beasts chased after them.
At night, when he would sleep in a thicket made in the roots of the trees, he would pull out the carnation, twirling it in his fingers, and that would give him the strength to make it through another day.
In the cold waters of the Eisenfluss River, Brenn was nearly swept away. But he pulled himself to shore, gasping for breath and ever more determined to finish his quest home.
When Brenn finally arrived at the gates at the edge of his kingdom, it was several months later. His clothes were tattered and worn, he was bruised, scarred and dirty, but he was stronger and better for the journey.
The flags flying high over the gates still bore the emblem of his father. His parents were still in power. The first knight Brenn found, he demanded to take him to see the king.
“A filthy beggar like yourself will not be granted audience with the king,” the knight told him. “Take yourself and your mangy beast and get out of here.”
Instead of listening, Brenn bolted and ran as fast as he could toward the castle, outrunning all of the king’s men. He snuck past the guards outside the palace, and Brenn pushed his way inside, racing right up to the king’s court.
As soon as he saw them—the king and queen seated in their thrones—Brenn knew they were his parents. They’d aged some—his father thinner than he remembered, and his mother much grayer.
A guard ran over to grab him, but Queen Rose was already to her feet, tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Do not touch a hair on that boy’s head!” the queen commanded. “That is your prince, and if you hurt him, I will send you to the dungeon myself.”
She ran over to Brenn, embracing him tightly to her, and King Elrik soon hugged him, too. They asked what had happened to him, and Brenn began to tell the story of Fyren and how he’d held him in the mountains for all those years.
Then he thought of Dianthus, and seeing that it was safe in the kingdom, Brenn pulled the flower from his pocket. The pink petals had browned and wilted. The flower had been crushed over time, and it was so fragile that it felt like it might turn to dust in his fingers.
“Wherever did you get that?” the queen asked as Brenn set the flower on the floor.
“Dianthus, I wish for you to return to your human form,” Brenn commanded.
His heart pounded desperately, and his stomach churned. Throughout his travels, he’d known the flower was growing worn, and every night since he’d left the mountains, Brenn had thought about wishing Dianthus back to life. But it was not as he’d promised her, so he’d waited.
But now that the moment was at hand, he’d begun to fear that perhaps the flower had become too damaged. Perhaps Dianthus would be unable to return, or if she did, she may be injured. He’d tried with all his might to protect the pink, but the journey had been arduous, and it had taken its toll on the precious flower.
In moments that stretched out to eternity, Brenn was certain that his greatest fears had come true. He’d been unable to keep his one true love safe, and she would not return to him. And then finally—blessedly—she appeared.
Dianthus was curled up on the floor in her finest gown, and she appeared even more beautiful than when he’d seen her last. Surprise and joy lit up her face as they embraced.
“I was afraid I’d never see you again,” Brenn admitted, brushing her golden hair back from her face.
“And I you,” she said, sounding awed to be in his arms again. “I love you so, my prince.”
“I love you, my princess.” Brenn kissed her, more passionately than he should’ve in front of his parents, but he couldn’t help himself. He had just been reunited with his love.
With the prince returned, the kingdom rejoiced, and Brenn and Dianthus were married within the week. With the help of Brenn’s and Dianthus’s leadership, the kingdom began to prosper again. The king and queen doted on their son and his new bride, making up for all the time they had lost.
They loved Dianthus like she was their own daughter, and she loved them in return, for they were the parents her heart had always wished for. Queen Rose and Princess Dianthus spent much time together in the wilds of the garden behind the palace, and the queen often remarked that the pink carnations had never been more radiant.
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