The air
became cool and damp as the monkey prince walked into the shade of the jungle.
It was not cold by any means, but after the half day’s walk under the sun, it
felt pleasant, and in a way reminded him of his home in the mountains. This was
a different kind of cold; the jungle’s air was invigorating, but the mountain’s
was bitter and unforgiving. The prince loosened his fur and let the air touch
his skin.
The prince
knew nothing about jungles. He was born and raised on the peak of a mountain
not far away, and the mountain had made him hard and strong, but he had never
left the peaks. He knew the way to walk so the snow didn’t break beneath his
feet, and he knew the smell of a blizzard that was two days away. But the jungle
was new to him, and although he was not frightened, he was not comfortable
either.
The only
thing the prince knew about this jungle was that his father ruled every tree
west of the river. It was the only thing his mother had ever said about his
father. “Your father is the king of a jungle. But he isn’t a good king, and he
isn’t a good father.” That was all his mother would say: as many questions as the
prince had asked, she would never answer the ones about the king, even on her
deathbed. But she had pointed one day to the jungle where she had once reigned
as queen, and the prince never forgot where it was.
As the
prince walked, he saw a great palace with many guards high in the treetops.
When he approached the entrance, a great monkey blocked his way, and said “Halt,
stranger. What business have you with the king?”
“My mother
told me the king is my father. I have no proof, but I wish to meet him,” the
prince stated methodically. The palace guard eyed him suspiciously, but saw the
prince’s resemblance to the king. “Come with me,” he said, and he led the
prince to the throne room.
The throne
room doors were thrity feet tall and weighed more than ten elephants, and it
took many monkeys to open them. As they swung open, the prince eyed the king,
and he knew immediately that he had found his father. The monkey’s face looked
the same as the prince’s, only older. His father’s fur was graying, but only
slightly, and his muscles had not receded with age. The king was greater in
size and stature than all the guards, but the prince knew that his own strength
was greater just by looking.
The king
looked at the prince, and his eyes lit up. “My son, I would know your face
anywhere. What a joyful day this is!” As he spoke, he walked toward his son,
but his face flicked with fear, not love. The prince watched as his father eyed
his son’s muscles. The king’s arms stretched outwards as he said “Come, son,
give your father a hug.”
The prince walked toward his father,
but he was dubious of his newfound father. Although he had come to see his dad,
he had not forgotten his mother’s only words about the king. The prince hugged
his father, but he did not feel the love he felt when his mother had used to
hug him. His father squeezed tightly, but he could not quite wrap his arms all
the way around his son’s muscular back.
The king
smiled at the prince, and said, “What an excellent time for you to arrive! I
was just telling the guards’ commander that I would need to crown a new king
soon. I am getting quite old you know!” The king let out a laugh, and the
guards laughed with him. “My son, we can crown you tonight! But for the
ceremony, we will need lotus flowers. We need five white lotuses and five pink
lotuses. But most importantly, we need one of the rare blue lotuses That only
grow in the small pond to the south. Can you gather them while I prepare the
throne room?”
“Absolutely
father. I won’t let you down.” The prince left the palace, and the great throne
room doors shut slowly behind him.
Author’s Note: this writing is based on the story The Monkey
who Gathered Lotuses, linked below. This post is only the first half of the story, to keep the post under 1000 words. In the first half of the original story, the monkey prince's mother tells him that his father is a king but wants to kill him. The prince goes to his father, who tries to kill him with a mighty squeeze (to look like a hug) but cannot, so the father tells his son that he wishes to make the son king, but that the son must go collect a number of lotuses from a nearby pond. The only significant changes I made in the first half of the story is to keep the reader from knowing the father wants to kill his son. It is heavily implied, but not overtly stated.
Original Story: The Monkey who Gathered Lotuses
Image information - (fantasy forest - I edited the original to make it more fitting for the story)
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