There was a clever boy named Aaron who, despite his cleverness, liked to sleep all day, and he was sad all the time, because he had his mind on other things.
Perhaps he didn’t know that he was actually a Prince of a far-off Kingdom, that had lost its King to a war that took the Villagers’ Souls away.
The Villagers cried out, “Bring us our Prince! He’ll know what to do!”
Of course, Prince Aaron couldn’t hear their cries, because he was relaxing in his room…
…far from the Kingdom, and the Villagers, and the Village.
Maybe when the King was lost, and the Soul of the Village was lost in the war… maybe Prince Aaron’s Soul was lost at that time too…
…and he couldn’t hear the cries of the Villagers, who wanted his help so badly.
From time to time, the neighboring countries of the far-off kingdom would send emissaries to talk to Prince Aaron.
He was not prepared to speak about matters of State.
He could, however, tell you about the scientific benefits of extra sleep for children his age.
Which he would then demonstrate.
He would sleep… and sleep some more… and he would dream.
He dreamed of a wild, growling Beast, that chased the Villagers into their homes and wouldn’t let them leave. The Beast paced outside their doors…
…and the Villagers were crying in their beds.
In the dream, Aaron was floating over the Beast, praying that someone would rescue the Villagers. The Beast looked up at him, and sniffed, long and low with his snout, and growled one word.
“You!” snarled the Beast, and he moved to pounce.
Aaron woke up. “Just a dream,” he yawned. He was sweating.
It was not just a dream. It was the Village. It was the Village that sent the Vision through the world, over the mountains and the sea, into Aaron’s mind, in hopes their Prince would hear their pain, and restore their Kingdom, restoring their Soul.
Night after night, they sent the Vision, so that it deeply disturbed their Prince.
So it happened that Aaron could no longer ignore the dream. It happened that day; the day that Aaron woke up early. So early, that even his mother was not yet awake.
Which is why he surprised her to see him sitting at the breakfast table, over coffee he had made himself, not exactly crying.
Which is why he surprised her to see him counting his money and thoughtfully putting it in his paper wallet.
Which is why he surprised her when, over that early breakfast of poached turkey and melon pieces, he said, “I have something to attend to. I may be destroyed.”
His mother dropped the butter spoon.
Aaron turned to leave. Frightened, his mother tried to stop him, but Aaron’s body passed right through hers.
Now, she was the sad one.
Aaron, on the other hand, was very, very, very… determined.
He traveled.
After a time, he was exhausted, but not tired.
“It is because,” he reasoned to himself, as he sat upon a rock, “this is the hardest part.”
He traveled eighty-seven days, under a hot sky.
For eighty-six nights the Beast returned, always to his dreams, because the Village kept sending the Vision.
The Vision, where the Beast snarled “You…” and Aaron awoke sweating.
They were not expecting Aaron to arrive on the eighty-seventh night, under a sky lit by a half-moon, yellow and dim, the air smelling horribly of the smog of frightening things.
…the growl came, and the Beast stalked in the shadows, thinking he had Aaron fooled.
Slowly, carefully, the Beast crept behind Aaron, his teeth dripping with hate, his intentions cruel, sneaking closer and closer until the bristle of his stiff hair nearly touched Aaron’s clothes.
“You…” snarled the beast, and he moved to pounce… moving quickly to kill Aaron.
Aaron was having none of it, for being a clever boy, he had provided for himself a snare, which he used to trap the Beast, and tie his muzzle, and string him from the Sycamore in the center of the Land.
“See here!” cried out Aaron, in a voice so loud the foundations of the Land trembled. “See the Beast that once held you in your homes! Come out and show no fear! The Beast is dead, and I have killed him!”
For a while, the Villagers didn’t believe what they were hearing. So, Aaron waited, patiently, beneath the Sycamore, the Beast swinging lifeless above him.
One by one, the Villagers came out, each one asking, “Could it be?”
They gathered beneath the Sycamore, slowly, to see Aaron whittling a point onto a long piece of wood, and singing a soft, happy tune.
When all had gathered, and all was quiet, Aaron stood up, and said…
“I’m sorry.”
This confused the Villagers, and some asked, “Why? Why are you sorry?”
“You have cried out for your Prince! I am Prince Aaron, and I will not fail you again!”
There was a long silence, and then… a great Noise, as the Villagers cheered, and suddenly there was joy, and dancing, and Love.
The Noise was so great, it awoke the Beast, thought lifeless, still swinging from the Sycamore. Swinging above Prince Aaron.
The Villagers fell silent, as the Beast growled low.
Prince Aaron, seeing that he was not dead, looked up at the Beast, watching him swing and growl.
The Beast said nothing, and Prince Aaron said but one word.
“You…”
Prince Aaron drove his spear into the heart of the Beast…
Killing him once and for all.
