Jelena never wanted to be part of a story, and she’d made that perfectly clear to Bro. Greg Baker—several times. But Bro. Greg, being who he was, simply ignored her. Naturally she was irked but trying to explain things to him was like trying to reason with an encyclopedia. He had answers for everything—even if you didn’t know what they meant.
So, if she had to be part of some story, she’d just as soon it be one of her own making. True, there were times she wished that her life was different—that she could live someone else’s life, be someone else. What would it have been like to live in a different time, to live a life free of the constraints imposed upon her? What freedom would there be?
She was musing about this as she walked into her classroom one morning for school, but her thoughts were scattered as she plunged into utter chaos. The disharmony of animated conversations reverberated throughout the room. Her peers—all younger, all less mature, and all annoying at times—ignored Bro. Stowers attempts to bring the class to order. Each was engaged in his or her own little world, talking about things important to themselves, arguing, trying to climb the pecking order of whatever social ladder they imagined existed, and not even realizing that she was in the room. Crystal’s voice could be heard easily above the others, of course, but Ashley’s climbed several decibels higher in an attempt to match. Isaiah and both Anthonys were engaged in a conversation about the latest NBA basketball stories. Idly, Jelena thought they’d do much better in school if they put the same energy into their paces as they did in remembering all those useless sports statistics.
Hope was whispering something to Joanna, and it set them off into peals of laughter that earned frowns from Makenna and Kayleigh. Sophia and Victoria pretended to ignore everyone, but Jelena knew better. Their silence was just a tactic to draw attention.
No one in the room really understood Jelena’s cares or worries. Jelena was the only one graduating this year, the only one who had to worry about college—about everything that meant—about leaving home, about venturing off into the world. Normally, her classmates’ ignorance didn’t bother her, but for some reason, it did today. Couldn’t any of them see that there were more important things going on than their pitiful arguments, their ridiculous attempts to “up” one another in some meaningless contest of social acceptance and dominance?
For once in her life, it would be nice if she had the power to just tell everyone to shut up and pay attention to the larger issues of life. Unfortunately, she did not. But she wished she did.
Not everyone was involved in the racket raised by animated immature, teenage, adolescent conversations. Some sat quietly at their desks, but even they, Jelena supposed, were absorbed in their own world—why else would they be so self-consumed?
Grumbling to herself, knowing that this was going to be a bad day, Jelena stalked toward her desk, but came short, staring at the most bizarre contraption she’d ever seen. It looked like someone had haphazardly glued every conceivable gadget and gismo together into one ugly machine, and it sat squarely on Bro. Stower’s desk.
“What in the world is that?” she demanded, pointing an accusing finger at the mechanical abomination.
Kyle, who was standing next to it, failed to detect the scorn in her voice and said, “It’s my latest invention.”
She blinked. “Your what?”
“In-ven-tion,” he said slowly as if she was some sort of imbecile.
She gave him her patented Diaz scowl that could reduce even the stoutest of hearts to a quivering mess. Kyle, naturally, was oblivious to it. The kid had no common sense whatsoever.
“I…heard…you,” she said, equally slowly. Two could play that game. “What does it do?” she asked.
“It compresses space,” he explained as if that somehow clarified it.
Her scowl deepened, which should have been a warning sign to Kyle, but he missed it. “Would you care to explain that?” she asked.
His eyes lit up. “It reduces the space between spaces.”
“Kyle,” she said patiently, “that makes no sense whatsoever.”
He tried to explain. “It has to do with the fact that space is technically infinite, so all you need to do is—”
Jelena’s eyes had begun to glaze over. “Stop,” she ordered before he could lecture her into a coma. Shuddering, she glanced one more time at the machine. Her eyes fell on a big red button right at the top. “Does it work?” she asked.
Kyle shrugged. “Don’t know. I haven’t tested it yet.”
Jelena mimicked his shrug. “Then let’s find out,” she said, reaching over and pushing the red button. That’s always been one of her little quirks. If there was a button to push, then naturally, someone should push it. Why not her?
Kyle’s face turned white even as her finger depressed the button. “No!” he shouted, his panic startling her. He reached out to knock her hand out of the way, but it was too late.
A white light, so bright that it washed out everything around her into nothingness surrounded her, penetrated to her very core, and then consumed her.
Eternity passed within a moment that stretched on endlessly.
And finally, the white light began to fade, and with it, each of her senses began to return to reality. A prattling voice was the first thing to penetrate her consciousness, even before the light faded enough to make out her surroundings.
“Is this not a most joyous occasion, milady?” a girl’s voice said. Jelena recognized that voice…but couldn’t quite place it… “I tell thee truly,” the voice rambled on, “thy appearance is indeed wondrously radiant. Thou art assuredly the most beautiful maiden in the realm.”
Her senses reeling, Jelena tried to make heads or tails of the gibberish when it dawned on her who was speaking. “Kayleigh? Is that you?”
“Aye, milady,” Kayleigh giggled. “Thinkest thou that I could be another?”
Astounded, Jelena was struck speechless for a moment. What nonsense was this? Finally, the brilliant light faded, and Jelena could see her surroundings. She stood before a floor-length mirror trimmed in gold and silver. She wore, of all things, the most ridiculous gown she’d ever seen in her life. The blue gown fell to the floor in billowing folds and was cinched at the waist by several golden straps. The sleeves puffed out absurdly above her elbows and trailed volumes of cloth that nearly brushed the floor. A tall cone-like hat sat perched on her carefully braided hair with several yards of flowing blue lace attached to the tip.
Jelena looked like some sort of fairytale princess straight out of Disneyland.
And the room looked to be the inside of a castle. A four-poster bed of some magnificence sat off to one side, and plush chairs had been artfully placed in just the right spots. A large fire roared in a gigantic fireplace on the other side of the room to ward off the chill.
And Kayleigh, humming happily to herself, kept busy by tucking wayward folds of cloth back where they belonged and arranging the train of lace in its proper place. She too was dressed absurdly in one of those medieval dresses, but hers was much plainer, and she lacked the hat.
“Kayleigh!” Jelena cried, spinning around and almost falling flat on her face when she stepped on the folds of her gown. “What’s going on here?”
Kayleigh’s face looked shocked. “I understand thee not, milady. We are but preparing thee to meet thy prince.”
“What?” Jelena screeched as panic began to overtake her. “What are you talking about?”
“Thy marriage, milady. Hast thou forgotten? The prince shall arrive anon and thou shalt be wed.”
None of this made sense, and Jelena determined she wouldn’t make any sense of it until she could get Kayleigh to talk like a normal human being. “Talk normal, Kayleigh, and tell me what all this marriage nonsense is about. I’m not getting married, and you know it.”
Kayleigh paled. “Thou canst not—”
Jelena coolly measured Kayleigh and then slapped her sharply across the face. “Speak normally, Kayleigh,” Jelena warned, “or I’ll slap you until your teeth rattle like bowling pins!”
Kayleigh swallowed, her eyes looking a bit wild. “Fine,” she muttered grudgingly. “If that’s the way you want it. You’re to be married to the Black Prince of Ekoj. Today.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Jelena protested, desperately trying to make sense of everything. “Where are we?” she asked, trying to get a handle on things.
“We are in the castle Esaet,” Kayleigh answered.
“No,” Jelena said impatiently. “When are we? What year is this?”
Kayleigh looked puzzled. “It is the year of our Lord 1242.”
Jelena nearly swallowed her tongue. “It’s nearly 800 years in the past?” she burst out. For a long moment, she could only stare at the confused Kayleigh. Finally, she shouted, “I’m going to kill him!”
“Kill who?” Kayleigh asked.
“Kyle of course!” Jelena raved. “That idiot built a time machine instead of…instead of…instead of whatever it was he thought he built!”
Kayleigh pursed her lips. “You mean Kyle the Madman? The one your brother has locked up in the dungeons?”
“Probably,” Jelena agreed. “Which brother are you talking about?”
“The only one you have,” Kayleigh said.
Jelena sighed. Was this some sort of dream or nightmare? “Tell me anyway,” Jelena ordered.
“King Isaiah, of course,” Kayleigh said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“King?” Jelena squeaked out, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? If he’s a king, then I’m…” she trailed off aghast.
“You’re his sister,” Kayleigh agreed, “the royal princess.”
Oh this was too much. Jelena grabbed Kayleigh by the arm. “Take me to him. Now,” she commanded.
“As you wish, milady,” Kayleigh said, trying to curtsey and walk at the same time. She didn’t do a very good job of it.
With Kayleigh leading the way, they marched out of the room and down a stone corridor to dual oak doors the size of small buildings. Jelena kept tripping over her long gown, but after about a hundred yards—how big was this castle anyway?—she got the hang of it and walked with some degree of decorum.
The throne room was gigantic and filled with all sorts of people—most of whom, Jelena knew from school. She ignored them for the moment and focused on the gold throne sitting on a tall dais at the end of the room. She crashed to a stop and stared. The man sitting on the throne had her brother’s face, but little else. Where Isaiah had been thin, this man was fat. Where her brother had darker skin, this man looked pale as if he’d never seen the sun before.
“Isaiah!” Jelena yelled.
Isaiah glanced around, spotted her, and hiccupped. “My dearest sister,” he proclaimed, throwing his pudgy hands out wide. “I hath been forlorn without thy celestial presence—”
“Oh stop it,” she said irritably stalking right up to the foot of the throne. “You will speak right, or I’ll slap you silly too. What happened to you?”
He swallowed. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said plaintively.
“You’re fat,” she stated flatly.
He looked down at himself. “I do believe you are correct! What amazing observation skills you have, dear sister!”
“You used to be a good basketball player,” Jelena said. “What is wrong with you?”
“Basketball?” Isaiah asked, screwing his face up in thought.
“You know,” Jelena explained patiently, “that game where you bounce a ball across the floor and then throw it into a basket on the other end.”
He stared at her as if she was some sort of idiot. “What an absolutely crazy idea!” he said. “Why would anyone in their right minds want to do something so silly? What does it accomplish?”
Jelena couldn’t believe this. “You get points every time you make a basket,” she explained.
Isaiah turned around and looked at one of the guards. Jelena recognized Trevor Long, standing off to one side of the dais and holding an absurdly long halberd by the shaft. “What is this…points?” Isaiah asked him.
“I believe she speaks of thread laces, Your Majesty,” Trevor said in an emotionless tone. “It’s a woman thing I think.”
“Ah!” Isaiah crowed triumphantly. “That explains it. This basketball is a woman’s game. Clearly, you need the points to make more baskets. I don’t know why you think I would be good at this, dear sister. I’ve never sewn anything in my entire life.”
Jelena gave up. “Isaiah,” she said, changing the subject, “I need to find Kyle. Where is he? Kayleigh said you’ve got him locked up in the dungeon or something. I need his help to get home.”
“Kyle the Madman?” Isaiah asked, shaking his head. “Absolutely out of the question. I won’t let you near that crazy kid.”
“But—” Jelena tried to say.
“Besides,” Isaiah interrupted, “your new husband will be here shortly.”
“I’m not getting married!” Jelena screamed. Had everyone and everything gone mad?
The gasp of horror that followed that proclamation silenced the room. Jelena looked around in astonishment. A group of girls that consisted of Emma Divine, Gracie and Destiny Ardt, Brooke Hart, Annaliza Alvarado and Elizabeth Taylor shuffled forward.
“Don’t you want to save us?” Brooke asked, all wide eyed and innocent.
“What are you talking about?” Jelena asked.
Annaliza spoke up. “If you don’t marry the Black Prince, he will destroy the castle and…and…” the girl burst into tears. “Don’t you love us?” she wailed.
Taken aback, Jelena looked from stricken face to stricken face. “Of course I do,” Jelena told them.
The girls immediately brightened. “Then you’ll marry him? Save the castle and us too?” Emma asked.
Before Jelena could respond or even ask about where she could get her hands on that grubby, insane madman that had caused this mess, the throne room doors swung ponderously open again, and Anthony Moreno dressed in stately robes and bearing a polished staff stepped forward and banged the flagstones sharply to get everyone’s attention. He was obviously the court herald.
“Hear ye, hear ye,” he began in a deep voice that Jelena didn’t remember him ever owning. “I present to his Royal Majesty, King Isaiah, the august personage known as the Black Prince of Ekoj, slayer of multitudes, lord over all lands beyond our realm, and master of untold millions!”
Anthony stepped aside and an entourage of giant men and women all dressed in black filed in. The last person to enter was a huge knight of an imposing bearing and dressed all in black plate mail from head to toe. Even the plumed feather atop the helmet was black. The knight’s visor was down, and Jelena couldn’t see a single physical feature of the man within. But clearly, this was the Black Prince, the man she was supposed to marry. As if she’d let something so absurd happen!
A giant of a woman stepped forward from the group. This woman towered just over eight feet tall and had an imposing presence that was unnerving. Jelena then recognized the woman, and her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. The giant was Makenna. Makenna? So tall? The world had truly gone insane! Makenna’s eyes bore into Jelena’s like a serpent, and it sent a shudder down Jelena’s spine.
“In the name of the Black Prince,” Makenna announced, glaring around at everyone, “we are glad that King Isaiah has made us welcome. The Black Prince is most anxious to claim his bride.”
The Black Prince, after clanking loudly into the throne room, had come to a stop and hadn’t so much as twitched his helmeted head. He stood there like a decoration. Apparently, he was going to let Makenna do all the talking.
But this absurdity had gone on long enough. Jelena faced the Black Prince and gave him her Diaz scowl. “This whole thing is nonsense!” she declared. “I’m not going to marry him—or anyone else!”
Then one of the other giants stepped forward—a giant who wore Victor’s face. “Dost thou then spurn the Black Prince, Princess Jelena?”
“What?” Jelena asked, her scowl growing deeper. “Can’t anyone around here talk right?”
Victor’s eye twitched in irritation, but he tried again. “Are you rejecting the Black Prince as your husband?”
Jelena hesitated. Glancing around at the frightened faces in the throne room, she realized that, even if she didn’t, everyone else feared this Black Prince and what he could do. Of course, Jelena wasn’t yet convinced that this all wasn’t some type of dream. But what if it wasn’t? What should she do? All she wanted to do was go home! For that, however, she needed that madman Kyle—who was locked in the dungeons somewhere.
But if she refused, then the Black Prince would lay waste to the castle and perhaps destroy everyone within. If she could save everyone’s lives by marrying the man, wasn’t that her duty? For a moment, she vacillated, unsure.
Then a small hand slipped into hers. Jelena looked down into the wide eyes of Mia Robbs. “It’s okay,” Mia whispered. “If you don’t want to marry him, you don’t have to.”
“But—” Jelena started to say, imagining the terrible things that might happen to the little girl if she didn’t marry the Black Prince.
Mia smiled, and Jelena fell silent. Mia said, “Many people do bad things for the right reasons, and many do good things for the wrong reasons.” Mia’s face looked confused. “Which is better?” she asked.
Jelena puzzled her way through that statement. It seemed awfully profound coming from one so young, but the more she thought about it, the more she began to realize the truth of what Mia had said. Jelena was on the verge of doing a bad thing for all the right reasons. She struggled with the conflicting morality of the impossible situation. If she did not agree to this absurd marriage, then her friends would suffer. Could she live with that? Could she be the cause of such pain and misery?
She stared hard at the Black Prince, wondering who was within all that metal armor, wondering what evil lurked beneath. But then she decided it didn’t matter. Even if the man within was the most decent, honorable, and loving man in the world, she would not marry someone under these conditions. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar face.
“Give me a moment to think about it,” she told Makenna and Victor, adding, “I need to talk to someone first.”
Without waiting for a response, Jelena ran over to where Dalen stood. Jelena almost hadn’t recognized Dalen under that long white beard and wizened face. He looked like an old man! A skinny old man with a pot belly.
“Dalen,” she whispered, “where’s your brother?”
Dalen looked at Jelena as if she was some sort of bug that needed to be squashed under his foot. “He’s right over there,” he said, pointing.
Jelena, hope blossoming within her, turned and saw Jacen, not Kyle. Jacen was exactly the way she remembered him, except he looked old too. Ever see a kid with a long beard that nearly tickled his toes? That was Jacen! Growling with frustration, she hissed, “Not him. Your other brother!”
“He’s over there, Princess,” Dalen said patiently, pointing slowly somewhere else.
Turning, Jelena saw a third old man…this one, however, was completely bald. She had to look for a long moment to recognize Owen. Owen? Bald? Now that was a sight. “No, you dolt!” she nearly screamed. “Where’s Kyle!”
Dalen frowned. “You mean the madman? He’s in the dungeon.”
“I know that!” Jelena hissed. “Where’s the dungeon?”
Dalen shrugged. “Under the castle?”
This wasn’t doing any good. She turned back to the Black Prince and his giant cronies. She needed to stall for time, to think of some way out of this, so she said, “Before I marry this Black Prince, I want to see his face.”
Another giant stepped forth and Jelena had to step back lest she be stepped on. Crystal, her face looking like a thundercloud, glared down at Jelena from over eight feet up. “Thou shalt not gaze upon the visage of the mightiest knight on life!” Crystal shouted, her voice sounding like a dozen thunderclaps happening at the same time.
Makenna nodded in agreement, her huge head moving up and down ponderously like a giant see-saw. Makenna said, “Choose, Princess Jelena. Choose to marry the Black Prince or watch as we destroy this castle brick by brick and enslave everyone within.”
“Not until I see his face!” Jelena said stubbornly.
Slowly, the arm of the Black Prince rose toward the visor that hid the face within the black helmet. Instinctually, the three giants moved back a pace to give Jelena opportunity to see the face within. Like a snail crawling up a wall, the Black Prince ever so slowly raised the visor, and Jelena looked upon the face within.
And saw mostly darkness. Whatever face lay within was sheathed in shadows so dark, so deep that she could only see a pair of gleaming eyes staring back at her. Even those eyes looked dark, shadowed in mystery and evil. Jelena did not recognize those eyes. She still didn’t know who the Black Prince truly was.
In that moment, Jelena realized that her decision would have consequences no matter which way she chose. Earlier in the day, she had wondered what it would be like to be someone else, to live a different story other than her own. Now she knew. Being a princess did not offer her the freedom she supposed it would. There were still responsibilities, and each decision she made would affect not just herself but those around her as well.
Mia Robbs’ words came back to her, “Many people do bad things for the right reasons, and many do good things for the wrong reasons.” But in truth, the key was doing the right thing for the right reasons. That wasn’t always so easy to figure out.
Jelena didn’t want to marry this…this Black Prince. But was marrying him the right thing to do? No. It wasn’t. There was nothing right about this situation. She wanted to say no, but only her fear kept her from refusing. Then a Bible verse came to her, and she recited it aloud without realizing she was doing it, “Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.” Moses had said those words to Joshua.
Strengthened, she looked right at the Black Prince and said, “No. I will not marry you!”
Everyone went absolutely quiet. Then Makenna and Crystal bellowed, “Be destroyed then!”
Jelena prepared herself for the inevitable. She was no match for these giants, but no matter the consequences, she had done the right thing for the right reasons. She was content. Only she wasn’t squashed like a bug or pulverized into jelly. What happened next completely befuddled her.
A pack of foot-high midgets, led by Levi Tittle darted past Jelena like a swarm of angry bees. She saw Jordan Gieseler, Niko Alvarado, Kelsey Burton, Alex Roper, Julio Salas, Jasmin Martinez, and others leap upon the giants and began biting, poking, and stabbing the giants with boundless energy.
The evil giants bellowed in anger and tried to swat or stomp on the tiny midgets, but the giants were too slow and clumsy to catch their tiny tormentors. The rest of the people in the court began shouting encouragement to the tiny brigade of fearless warriors, who, like wasps, stung the giants over and over again.
Makenna, lumbered around frantically, trying to dislodge Aarolyn Riley and Danielle Mullins as the pair of tiny girls stabbed her with tiny daggers that looked like toothpicks. The giantess tried to escape through a side door, but she forgot how tall she was and smacked her head on the doorframe knocking herself out cold.
Isaiah started laughing so uncontrollably that he rolled off his throne like a beachball and slammed into Victor’s shins with enough force to knock the giant onto his face. Victor was immediately swarmed over by a pack of foot-high midgets, carrying ropes. Levi and his sister Cheyenne quickly bound the giant’s hands and feet together and Andrea Chavez triumphantly stuffed a gag into his mouth to keep him quiet.
Crystal, after seeing her fellow giants so easily disposed of, tried to make a break for it, but Madison and Sophia were waiting for her with buckets of soapy water, which they kicked over right in front of the fleeing giantess’ path.
Crystal’s feet shot out from under her and she crashed to the ground with a resounding thud, crushing flagstones into powder. She lay there gasping for breath, the wind knocked out of her. “I surrender,” she croaked out, waving one arm weakly in the air.
Jelena, however, wasn’t satisfied. The Black Prince, this entire time, hadn’t so much as twitched a muscle. He was the real enemy here, not the three giants. So, she walked over and casually shoved him over. The moment the armor hit the floor, it shattered like glass.
There was no one within. The suit of armor was just that, only a suit—all show, but no substance.
Everyone started cheering, laughing, and jumping around enthusiastically. The castle was saved! They were all saved! Things looked dangerously close to breaking out into a full-blown party, but Jelena wasn’t ready to celebrate just yet. She just wanted to go home. This wasn’t her story. She wanted her own story back.
That’s when she noticed the red button lying among the shattered remains of the Black Prince’s armor. It looked just like the one on Kyle’s machine. Without hesitation, she pushed it.
Bright light washed everything out of existence, and for a moment, Jelena existed in two times and places. Then a voice floated to her ears, a frantic voice shouting, “No!”
And someone slapped her hand aside.
The light cleared and Kyle, hovering protectively near his machine on Bro. Stower’s desk, looked at her anxiously. “Please don’t push that,” he warned. “I don’t know for sure what it’ll do.”
Jelena regarded him for a long time. Finally, she smiled. “I’ll tell you what it does,” she said. “It teaches you that your own story is the best story for you. It’s what God intended, after all.”
Kyle looked puzzled, but then that wasn’t anything new. Humming happily to herself, Jelena found her desk and got to work.
The End