Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you: me, Banfid! I know, it is a strange name, but the story I am about to tell is even stranger if you can believe me.

Once upon a time, in a land where I stay, there were two siblings: Banfid (me) and Lorema, my sister. We were poor kids alright; we would sell wares on the street in the center of town, but barely managed to earn any money. Our father had taken great care of us when we were kids, but due to his old age, all he could do after we grew up was witness the struggles of life. All in all, our family didn’t have a great life.

One day, the prince came to our town. Now, nobody except that royal offspring knew why he had come here. However, I had heard, through the grapevine, that the prince had been going to the neighboring kingdom to attend his engagement ceremony with the kingdom’s princess. In the context of that line, dear reader, this story becomes even funnier.

To all you modern folk, the idea of an arranged wedding might sound atrocious. Well, during our time, the last thing the king and queen would want would be for the prince to fall in love with someone and elope with them; the fact that our prince, in particular, was an especially ‘daring’ fellow didn’t help either.

Anyway, as the prince was riding his majestic elephant through town, he noticed two people walking through the empty streets, which had been cleared for his journey. You can probably guess who those two were; if you can’t…I don’t know what to say about you.

My sister and I were going about our daily routine, selling fruit to whoever happened to be as clueless about the prince’s engagement ceremony as us. This struck the prince as quite odd; who were these defiant subjects who refused to accept his superiority? That was when he saw Lorema’s face: her glossy black hair (that hadn’t been combed in days), her skin that looked so perfect (even without makeup), her large brown eyes that looked right at him when she said,

“Hey, royal sir! Would you like some fruit? Mr. Prince, I’ve got other customers waiting, believe it or not! Hello?”

The prince had been shut up by my sister’s ‘apparent’ beauty; the reason I said ‘apparent’ was because my sister got on my nerves, so I was not going to boost her public image.

I, thinking that the prince had been shocked by my sister’s defiant words and that he would throw her in prison for her insolence, being the thoughtful brother I am, pushed Lorema aside and said,

“Royal sir...I mean, Your Highness, please forgive my sister for her utterly disrespectful behavior…”

I was about to deliver a heartfelt speech, begging for the prince’s forgiveness, when the truly unexpected happened: I heard a piercing scream, which could have only been my sister’s.  I turned to the left; she was not there. Instead, a scrawny man was running off into the distance, carrying a huge sack that seemed especially bouncy for an inanimate object.  All of those details could have meant only one thing: Lorema had been kidnapped!

The first thought that crossed my mind was, in my defense, a valid question: who would kidnap my sister? We barely had enough money to scrap together three meals every day!

Anyway, when I saw that my sister had been kidnapped, I didn’t know what to do. So, I did what anyone would do in my place; I followed the prince. And by that, I mean that I followed his every move as he stared at the scrawny man running off into the distance, then tried to heroically jump off his elephant. In reality, he landed in a heap on the ground and refused my help when I gave him my hand. He dusted himself off and ran after the kidnapper, all while his father, the king, screamed at him, “Son, what in the world are you doing? I command you to return to your seat!”

As for me, I, being the loyal subject I am, said to the king, “I shall bring him back, sire!” as I ran after the prince, hoping to bring back my sister and him intact.

Eventually, I caught up with the prince. He had been in hot pursuit of our target for five minutes; he had been shouting, “Drop the bag, you vile man! Let me rescue my love, my damsel in distress, you…”

Never did I ever think that a man of such noble birth could use such beautiful, exquisite, colorful language.

I decided to ask the prince a reasonable question as we continued running, which I feel was a terrific feat: “Your Highness, if we are to save my sister…”

“Oh, you mean the damsel in distress, the one who has stolen my heart from me, is your sister?”

“Yes…”

“Well then, my loyal retainer, what was your plan to save the heavenly beauty who just happens to be your sister?”

I had wanted to ask him why he couldn’t have asked his father’s guards or anyone else for that matter, to save my sister when he could have. However, after realizing how madly the poor prince was in love with my sister, I could faintly understand why he had taken upon himself to save his ‘damsel in distress’.  Even then, I heard the words coming out of my mouth:

“If I may ask such a question, My Lord, why do you wish to do this on your own, Your Highness?”

“My foolish yet loyal retainer…”

What was this guy calling me?

“...everyone knows a girl falls in love with a prince for two reasons: one, he is a prince! And two, he saves her single-handedly!”

I looked at my (hopefully) future brother-in-law; all I could hope for was that the scrawny man couldn’t put up much of a fight, because our prince couldn’t fight for his life, forget my sister.

Anyway, during our insightful conversation, my future brother-in-law and I lost sight of our target, which was just wonderful. Not only that, but we had also unknowingly run into the forest. Not only that, but I was also stuck in the forest with a prince who had somehow fallen in love with my sister and wouldn’t stop reciting lines of praise for her, which I was sure she didn’t deserve.

Also, remember how I had talked about the prince’s thoughts at the beginning of this piece like some omniscient narrator? Well, I was forced to byheart the day’s events as the prince kept on rambling about everything that had happened before, during and after falling in love with my sister.

Well, someone must have felt bad for us, because a few feet away, a young man with a gray beard sat under the tree, contemplating the faith of the two people who ran up to him and desperately said:

“Respected Sir, your youth undermines the wisdom of that gray beard. Can you help us in our quest?”

Mr. Graybeard (I will just call him that from now on, because I didn’t ask for his name) stared at the prince, and said in a shrill voice, “If I am to help you, I must understand your understanding of the understanding that exists between your beloved and yourself. Understand?”

The prince blinked his eyes and said, “Uh...okay.”

Silence. Crickets chirping. Birds chirping.

I nudged the prince.

“Oh, was I supposed to say something?”

Yep.

“Well...I love this boy’s sister with my heart, and soul, and anything else I can love her with!”

Silence. Birds chirping. Crickets chirping.

Mr. Graybeard said, “I fear what you must face in the hut…”

“What hut?”

“The hut.”

Great. We had to save my sister from a scrawny man in a hut. Surely nothing could go wrong inside a small, inhospitable hut in the middle of a forest in which anything, anybody, could be hiding…

At this point, the prince’s knees were jittering like the trees flailing in the wind around us. However, I could see him tighten his fists, like he was willing to do anything for my sister (who, I must remind, he saw only for a few moments. The guy who came up with this story, if anyone did, is the laziest person on this earth; he probably had no ideas or something).

Anyway, Mr. Graybeard continued: “O Prince, as I was saying before I was interrupted by you, I fear what must face in the cave will...break you.”

Even better. I would have to witness my future brother-in-law be broken in half like a cracker in front of me while my sister was held captive by a scrawny man, with a couple of mercenaries behind him. What a great day this was turning out to be.

The great Mr. Graybeard continued once more: “If you are willing to face these hurdles, my boy, I have no problem in guiding you on your quest.”

I turned to the prince. He was trembling. He turned to me. I started trembling. I turned to Mr. Graybeard. He didn’t start trembling; instead, he asked the prince: “O Prince, are you sure...you can…?”

The prince turned to me again and mouthed “praise me.” He seemed desperate like he needed a boost of confidence.

Oh great. Not only was I the loyal retainer of a prince, but I was also the loyal retainer of a prince who hadn’t done anything I could praise.

I was thinking of how I could reword his falling off his elephant to sound heroic when the prince said something I couldn’t have possibly imagined he would say: “I am ready for whatever it takes for my love, sir.”

He said these words so boldly and bravely that, for the first time, I saw a prince in the...uh, prince.

I put my hand on his shoulder out of uncontrollable emotion: “Your Highness…”

“Hands off.”

“Right.” My hand was promptly off. I turned to Mr. Graybeard and said: “After hearing his words, how can you doubt our morale? Guide us on the path of our destiny, O Graybeard!”

“I have no reason to doubt your morale, but...maybe your common sense. Turn to your right, lads.”

I turned around and felt like smacking myself in the face when I realized no one else seemed as surprised as me; I didn’t want to make a fool of myself you see, for in front of us lay a hut (how hadn’t I seen it?).  A hut that seemed like a baby among so many trees, a hut whose thatched roof was falling apart in the breeze. Yet it evoked such great fear inside me; it wasn’t the hut itself that scared me, it was what could be inside that did.

Mr. Graybeard followed us to the hut’s wooden door. Along the way, he told the prince that what would most probably happen inside had happened to several people already, including himself:

“Don’t worry, lad. I’m telling you, lad, there is no need to worry at all. Worry about worrying, you say? Well...keep a calm mind boy; that’s all.”

As we approached the hut, I took our guide aside and asked him: “Sir, you wouldn’t be able to tell us what’s inside now, would you?”

“I don’t want to raise or drop your expectations. You don’t have much to worry, the prince will have to face it himself; all you or I can do is help him after he’s done.”

I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or guilty that I felt relieved; I wasn’t a fighter myself, as you might have been able to tell, but leaving the prince alone to face whatever was inside? That seemed hard, cruel.

We slowly pushed open the door; the creaking increased the suspense so much it became unbearable; I slammed the door open (you probably haven’t heard of that before now, have you?) There wasn’t a lot of furniture inside; the dusty air inside the tight space made it even more imposing...you know what, I am going to tell, not show because what matters is that there were two people on the floor playing chopsticks, and the fact that my father and Lorema were playing chopsticks in this hut...I didn’t know what to say. So, I let the prince talk. The moment he saw my sister, he rushed in like a flood, saying, “My love! I have come to save you from that scrawny man who had kidnapped you in front of my own eyes!”

My sister turned to look at the prince as my father played his turn: “He wouldn’t have been able to kidnap me behind your eyes now, would he? And give my father some respect, royal sir! A man who can take care of my brother deserves some respect!”

Everything clicked into place when she said that. Ignoring the incredibly biased comment she had made, I said, “Wait a minute...you’re saying that Dad kidnapped you?”

The man in question had been deciding what move to make up till that point. After hearing what I had said, he sighed and said, “Yeah Banfid, I did. But it’s a funny story.”

“Sure, of course, it is. Why not?"

“You see, I saw our prince over here looking all googly-eyed at Lorema. At first, I couldn’t be happier: the prince had fallen in love with my daughter! That’s when I became happier; I could use the love-blinded prince to get some money for our family! I would kidnap Lorema and bring her to an old hut that just existed in the forest for whatever reason, and then wait for the prince to save her, with the money in my hands!”

“Dad, I don’t suppose you saw any steps of this plan conflicting with, I don’t know, morality or ethics?”

“Yeah, about that, Banfid. Once I came here and had untied Lorema, she beat me up black and blue…”

Lorema coughed in the background a bit too loudly.

“Anyway...I realized, by myself, that I had been driven by greed and desperation a little too much today. But, I had forgotten the way back home, so I just…”

“Played chopsticks till someone would miraculously find their way here and take you back?”

“Not necessarily son. We played rock-paper-scissors for a while too.”

Now, I know what you are going to say, dear reader: Banfid, you dragged on some random day’s events forever just to end it so anti-climatically? Well, all I can say is blame the guy who wrote this story, if anyone, as I have done so before. Oh wait, I can say something else. This isn’t the end of the story yet.

The prince heard our entire conversation silently. Finally, he kneeled on his right knee and asked a question he had wanted to ask my sister for the entire day, I guess: “O heavenly damsel, O damsel of Heaven…”

Facepalm.

“...I fell in love with you a mere ten seconds after I first laid my eyes on you. Even though I failed to save you from a dragon or a true villain because, in my defense, there wasn’t one...will you become mine?”

“Define ‘mine’, royal sir.”

“Will you marry me, Lorema?”

I looked at my father, who was bouncing up and down like a toddler; who would ever dream of such an alliance for my sister? My poor father desperately wanted it to happen.

I looked at Mr. Graybeard. Dear reader, I wouldn’t blame you if you had forgotten that he was even in the room with my family and the prince, because he hadn’t said a word since Lorema and my father’s chopsticks game. He remained silent.

I turned back to the proposed proposal going on. My sister said one word that I knew would break the prince’s heart: “No.”

Mr. Graybeard pulled me aside and said, “This is what I meant! This has happened to me several times, my boy, several times; Jane, Minnie, Jackie, Maya: oh, I sympathize with him, lad, I do!”

I turned to the prince; the expression on his face had changed from hopeful to shattered, utterly shattered. I turned to my father: the same expression. I turned to our guide: he was sighing, probably thinking about Jackie Maya or Jane Minnie. I stared into blank space: was this what I had been afraid of facing? The prince getting rejected by my sister?

Sigh. Well, the story still isn’t over.

The prince managed to recover from his shock and said, “Why? Am I not a prince?”

“Well, just because a prince saves a girl doesn’t mean the girl has to fall in love with him, right?”.

“Uh…” The prince was speechless.

“And you didn’t even save me from anyone! To be honest, I saved myself. From my father! Which isn’t a big deal looking back at it.”

“Right, about that…” The prince’s words were now senseless.

“Prince, I know you love me. But I want a man who doesn’t think he can woo any girl he wants with his money, his name...besides, as I said before, you didn’t save me from anything! Not like that would have changed anything, but...”

Not sure what to do when the prince is rejected by your sister,  I decided to try to console him. I attempted to sit next to him and start my work from there when he smacked me on the shoulder: “Hands off.”

Great. My entire family had become the prince’s enemies without doing anything. If my aunt’s third cousin came out of nowhere, the prince would probably say the same thing the moment he learned she was related to me.  I looked at Lorema, who had turned the other way. She probably didn’t know what else to say.

My father had rushed to the prince to try to console him. However, seeing how he had treated his loyal retainer, my father probably realized that he wouldn’t welcome the man who had ‘kidnapped’ his beloved with open arms, so he walked back to his spot.

I turned to Mr. Graybeard. He nodded; he knew what he had to do. He walked up to the prince and calmly sat next to him.

Silence. No animals were chirping during the writing of this sentence.

He finally turned to the prince and said, “My boy, this was the ‘break’ I was talking about. Sometimes, a blow to the soul hurts much more than one to the body. I am sure that it hurts to be rejected by the one you love. I would know, I went through it myself; O Jasmine, Rose, Pearl, Ruby! But understand that sometimes the true hero isn’t he who inflicts blows on others; sometimes, he takes the blows himself, and learns from his mistakes, and moves on from there.”

I honestly didn’t know what to take away from that speech; the prince, however, appeared to have learned something from it. He pondered for a solid minute about the wise youth’s words, then, with a smile on his face, walked up to my sister. He gently took her hand, looked her in the eyes and said, “I am sorry, my love. I failed to understand your emotions before unleashing mine upon you. I shall change myself, make myself a better person; I shall deflate my ego and inflate my mind with knowledge and respect, only then shall I ask for your hand again! You have the word of a prince, a true prince!”

My sister was speechless (for once! Thank you, whoever wrote this story, if anybody!)

My father was crying, but I knew they were happy tears; his daughter and (potentially future son-in-law) had made him proud. Mr. Graybeard was smiling and nodding approvingly; he walked over to me and whispered in my ear: “I might not have looked the part, but I certainly did justice to my archetype.” I couldn’t agree more.

My sister walked over to me and then did something she hadn’t done in a long time: she hugged me. She didn’t scold me, she didn’t ignore me; she hugged me. Wow.

At that exact moment, I heard the sound of a horse’s hooves on the dusty road. The next moment, the king himself was standing on the threshold of the hut, shouting, “Where’s my son? Get over here, boy!”

The prince immediately turned round, and with tears in his eyes, ran towards his father. They embraced each other in a bear hug. Then, they headed for the door. It was what happened next that, I feel, made that day worth it; the king didn’t even bother to acknowledge us, but the prince turned around, waved his hand at me and my sister and said ‘Bye!’ in a loud voice, right in front of his father. The king looked at him with surprise splattered on his face; he then turned in our direction and waved his hand as well. He didn’t say anything, but hey, progress takes time.

My father, my sister and I began the long walk home, with me leading the way. The evening sun was beginning to set, not that it had any archetypical, symbolic meaning.

Well, that’s all for now. I hope you enjoyed the story and were not bored to death by its length or its commentary, courtesy of yours truly. If you liked it, the name is Banfid; if you didn’t like it, blame the guy who came up with the story (he’s quite lazy, as I have said so several times before).