A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a stranger came. The people of the kingdom were kind. They welcomed the stranger as one of their own.
The stranger told them he was a prince, sent by the Great Spirit to slay the dragons that lived on the far shore of the kingdom. The people looked him up in the Observer’s Book of Princes, and sure enough, he was a prince. The Book could not lie.
The elders of the kingdom came together in council, and after much wise discussion, gave their blessing to the prince and his quest to slay the dragons. And so, armed only with his magic sword, off went the prince in pursuit of the dragons’ lair. Many days he travelled, over the great sea, until at last he reached the far shore. And there he faced the dragons.
The dragons fought hard. Fire and brimstone belched from their snouts as they hissed and snarled and whirled around the brave prince. But they were no match for such a valiant foe. Before the sun had set, all the dragons lay dead. The prince hurried back across the water to tell the people of his triumph.
As he stepped from his ship and surveyed the crowds lining the shore, lifting their faces towards him, the prince’s heart swelled. Surely the people would love him, he thought; surely the Great Spirit would reward him for his bravery.
Just then a little boy stepped forward. “Where are our dragons?” cried the boy. “You killed our dragons.”
Within a few moments the cry was carried through the mass of people ranged along the shore. “Where are our dragons? You killed our dragons!” An old lady shook her fist.
The prince looked about him in bewilderment at the scores upon scores of angry faces. “But you’re free now,” he pleaded. “I have freed you from the dragons.”
The little boy stepped forward again. “But we were already free,” he said. “And you killed our dragons. You killed our dragons.”
The people fell silent. And darkness and decay held illimitable dominion over all.