The Tale of Julius: a story based on Cinderella

 Clang. The Great Time-Keeper of St. Clements in the East Tower raised both of its arms straight up to the star-studded celestial sphere. The girl, who had appeared until the previous moment, with her half-closed eyes, to have lost herself in matching steps with Prince Julius, suddenly froze solid as if a vice were clamped on her joints. Clang. “Midnight!” she mouthed with a start. The pupils of her eyes pushed the lapis-blue iris into a thin ring.  “Home … Angry …” Her next words flashed by in a blur to Julius, so he was not quite sure, but he thought that he heard snippets about pumpkins and mice. Clang. Before he could form the words to find out what she meant, the beautiful maiden, as she glided away from him towards the polished bronze doors of the ballroom, whispered, “Sorry”. When Julius regained his composure, he started after the girl. But by the time he reached the door, she had already darted halfway down the stair-steps. She stumbled a bit, and a gleaming glass foot-fitter slipped off her right foot. “Oh dear,” she muttered, but said nothing else as she dashed away, soon becoming a blue smear. Julius yelled over the twelfth clang, “Hey, at least tell me your name!”, but the fair-haired one had disappeared entirely from his sight.

Recovering from the shock of the enchanter’s departure, Julius went down the steps to examine the shiny blue object that caught his attention.  He saw that it was a foot-fitter that fell off the girl’s foot. That shoe was made from clear glass with a tint of pale blue and was unlike anything he had ever seen. The prince delicately picked it up, admiring how it gleamed at every edge, and swore, “O fair maiden! Whoever you are, slumber shall not approach my eyes until I find the fine foot of the one who owns this! I shall search through all of the beautiful maidens in the land to find the one this treasure belongs to!” Taking the slipper to his mother, Queen Estella, he spoke, “Mother, at the ball I was dancing with a pretty maiden. When the bells sang twelve, she suddenly deserted me for a reason I could not fathom. As the charmer was flying down the stairs, she left behind this glass foot-fitter. So, I am going on a quest to find her. Do I have your blessing?” The queen smiled, and replied, “Go with the wind, my son. May your journey be blessed with good fortune of the House of Dega. But before you leave, take this--” She took out a gold pendant from her neck, shaped like a star and embedded with a diamond, and gave it to him. “This pendant will bring you good luck along the way. The pendant has been in my family for generations passed down from mother to daughter. No one remembers when it was made.  We believe that the spirits of our ancestors guard the pendant’s wearer, and they will guide you through your journey. But beware: great challenges you will encounter, and you will need both the steel of your arms and the sting of your mind. Always remember your lineage: your father, King Romulus Dragon-Slayer, slayed the giant four-headed flame-spitter that had plagued our kingdom for forty years, and his father, King Hector Peace-Giver, united our kingdom, Simis, with the once-feuding kingdom of Bylin with a single truce. Meanwhile my father, King Dios Janus-Crusher, used nothing but his wits to save our kingdom from the corruption and treachery that had once permeated through all the land. Know that you embody the strengths of your paternal and maternal lineage. With that, I bid you farewell.” Julius accepted the pendant around his neck. He felt a new type of lightning permeate his veins and a certain clarity fill his mind. He bid good-bye to his mother and set off on his quest.

Julius looked up at the tavern sign as the light was beginning to dim, and the cold north wind began to bite harder into his face. The faded letters etched in the once-green oak board read: The Dragon’s Den. The wind rocked the sign and it creaked with every swing. He then looked down on his clothes and hoped it was appropriate for where he was headed. He had shed his resplendent regalia before he had left the king’s-keep and had changed into a flannel shirt and trews to avoid attracting attention, and had his beard shorn. He gingerly opened the door and set a wary foot inside. The tavern presented a scene of cacophonic mayhem. One group of burly men was booming at the top of their lungs while taking shots; some were sitting by themselves, drowning their sorrows. The fetid smell of spilled mead combined with the perspiration of the men stung his nostrils as if it was a deadly wasp. In the corner, a man was feeding logs into the fireplace. The fire gave off a warmth that made the patrons feel welcome. Overcoming his impulse to flee out the door, Julius walked over to a barstool by the counter and asked the bartender for a pint of cheer-bringer. The bartender gave him a curious look- Julius did not resemble most of his other customers although he wore the garb of a common man. Setting his suspicions aside, the bartender slammed the cheer-bringer in front of him and grunted “Two pfennigs”.

Julius took a sip of his drink and, much to his pleasant surprise, it tasted just as great -if not better- than any of the extravagant wines he had had before. He looked around, and saw that, two seats away, an old man was staring right at him with an inscrutable face. Worried that he had been discovered, Julius pretended to deeply contemplate a shield hung on the wall on the other side of the room. “Who is this man?” Julius whispered to the bartender, pointing his index finger at the strange old man. “Don’t know,” the bartender shrugged, “I would mind my own business if I were you”. Julius heard someone clear his throat and turned around. The strange old man had sidled up next to him. “New here?” The voice was not unpleasant. Perhaps the cheer-bringer had gotten to him, Julius was soon in deep conversation with the grizzled man. “You wouldn’t know looking at me now”, the man boasted, “I have slain more beasts and demons than I care to count”. Julius wouldn’t be outdone, and countered with his own trophies, proceeding to enumerate them: Strider, Brumthorn, and Rawhide with his sword; Whipscale, Firetongue and Shredclaw with his javelin; Bonemasher and Blackfang with his bare hands. He grew animated as he spoke, and his mother’s pendant momentarily slipped out of the confines of his shirt. The old man immediately recognized him as part of the royal family of Dega. A sudden glint appeared for a second in the old man’s eyes and then vanished.

The old man asked Julius if he would come to his house for a cup of tea and a look at his trophies. The prince was suspicious, but he accepted the offer. When they reached the old man’s house, he settled into a ragged cot and looked at the swords and spears suspended from the walls. A tongue of flame suddenly singed his left shoulder. The old man had morphed into a massive, black-scaled flame-spitter, fire blazing from its nostrils. Before he could react to the development, the flame-spitter bounded at him. With his training and instinct jolting Julius into action, he drew out his trusty sword. Ducking a whip of the flame-spitter’s tail, Julius thrust it at the beast. The flame-spitter’s scales were so thick that his sword splintered into two. With a swipe of its massive paw, the beast knocked the prince backwards. He crashed into a wall, which crumbled into chunks. Behind that wall had been a plain-looking sword whose only redeeming feature was a hilt with a shining ruby. When the wall shattered, the sword fell to the ground, and the ruby cracked. As Julius swiveled around to charge again, the monster let out a piercing cry. The crack of the ruby was mirrored with a crack that ran across the flame-spitter’s body. It then shriveled into a lump of ashes. Julius admired the sword. He discerned its strange markings: it was called Nihil, and the ruby that had been on it would transform its possessor to a demon. He liked the heft of the sword, and since he had no other weapon on his person, he took Nihil.

Resuming his quest, the shaken but determined Julius knocked on the door of every house, and tried the foot-fitter on the right foot of every maiden he met, telling them that he was an emissary of the prince, and that he was looking for the maiden to whom it belonged. Disappointingly, the glass slipper rejected every eager woman who tried it. As the prince, his heart weighted by despair, passed by a grove of quaking aspens, he encountered two maidens strolling by. He did not recognize either of them from the previous fittings but thought he had seen them at the ball. Showing them the glass slipper Julius asked if they recognized it and if it belonged to either of them. However, much to the sister’s dismay, the foot-fitter would not budge on either of their feet. The sisters were livid with rage, and as Julius turned to walk away, he saw the sister on the right intertwine her left index finger with the right index finger of the other sister. Right before his eyes, they fused together into a two-headed serpent. With a collective hiss, they wrapped the prince in coils, and they squeezed so hard that he lost grip of Nihil. As he tried to reach for that sword with his fingers, the grip on him tightened. Soon, everything went black. When Julius finally woke up, he noticed that he was on the ground in a dark copse of trees. The sisters, back in human form, were hovering over him. In a sudden impulse, he held the index finger of one of the girls and ripped it off. Both of them shrieked and collapsed, as he barged out the thicket and fled with Nihil towards the village.

Julius went through house after house, and tried maiden after maiden, but the foot-fitter rejected them all. Just as he was about to give up, he spotted one last house at a distance. With a near certainty that he would be disappointed again, he knocked on his door. A stern woman came and answered it. He repeated the question he had asked a thousand times before: “Do you have any maidens?” He explained again that he was there at the prince’s bidding, to find the true owner of the glass slipper. “I have two beautiful daughters,” she replied. “I am certain the slipper would fit one of them.” When Julius asked to meet them, she welcomed him to sit. The sisters would be back soon, she replied. “Last time I saw them, they said that they were going on a stroll by those aspens.” Julius froze. He knew whose mother he was addressing. As he eyed his exit, he calmly asked “Is there anyone else I could try this shoe on?” The woman shook her head. “No, there is no one else,” she sneered. “Well, I’m here!” a soft voice chimed, its familiarity instantly bringing a levity to Julius heart. Stunned, Julius recognized her as that girl from the ball. But just as he was about to reach her, the stern woman changed form, transforming into a massive scorpion-like beast with long, terrifying fangs and a whiplike tail, with venom dripping from its tip. Julius repeatedly thrust Nihil at the arachnid, but with every move the beast swiftly dodged his attacks. In turn, the beast jabbed at him with its tail tip, and Julius ducked and weaved. The battle seemed to stretch interminably, and the prince was beginning to perspire and tire. He then realized that the beast’s strongest point was its tail, and if he could cut it off, it would become significantly weaker. At the next swipe of the tail, he struck hard with Nihil. The tail tip was severed, and the beast roared. But it happened at a cost--Nihil crumbled to dust in his hands. In desperation, he took the tail tip and slashed it across the beast’s eyes. It staggered backwards for a moment before dropping dead. Exhausted but invigorated he walked to the familiar voice and held the slipper out. Her foot slid in, as only it could. “You didn’t tell me your name”, he queried. She smiled, “Ella”.