Like many young writers, my dream is to become an author. I desire very greatly for some youth or even some elder to hold my work in his hands and see it as something great. I desire, even more than this, to have my God receive the glorification of this greatness, for without Him and His grace in giving me my passion for writing, I would be nothing but empty words.
I had never ventured to write a children’s story until last year when I very precious young man requested that I write him one. Therefore, seeing it as a challenge and giving into my own determination to be better, I went and immediately started to work. I completed the first part of the story, naming it “Douglas’s Adventure Story.” A young lad is called to fight for his kingdom, and has the pleasure of venturing across his country with new comrades and hidden enemies. It is indeed a story of great adventure, good lessons, and important friendships. I greatly enjoyed writing it and knew that more of the story was yet to be written. This following excerpt is from the second part of Douglas’s Adventure Story.
I was ushered upon arrival by a servant to one of the feasting tables, where which I was seated between two very tall gentlemen…tall, from side-to-side, that is. Both gentlemen were very plump and had ruddy faces, seeming to exhibit the characteristics of two ripe tomatoes. I almost wondered if they weren’t brothers.
The servant by whom I had been ushered informed me that I was welcome to indulge myself in all the food before and around me, for it was coming from an abundant supply. This caused me to take full notice of the grand feast before me. A large, roasted, boar lay decorated with lettuce, parsley, apples, and dates a small distance down the table from me. Tiers of vegetables, fruits and bread stood beautifully in front and on both sides of me. Finally, there were many pitchers of sweet honey wine floating about with the servants, and some of that delightful beverage sat expectantly in the golden goblet before me.
I couldn’t help but wonder what my mum would think of me if she saw me drinking such a drink, for I was still but a lad, now thirteen years of age. It would not be for another decade until I would be considered half a man, then even longer until I was considered a full man. I then recalled my opinion on what was required of a lad to become a man…I was still unsure.
“Something wrong, my lord?” A servant came and wondered about my appetite. The two jolly souls beside me were laughing obnoxiously and too involved in their present conversations to quiet down enough for me to properly answer the servant, so I took myself away from the table to speak.
“No sir; I simply care not for this beverage. Would there be tea or cider anywhere about for me to drink?” I asked as maturely as I could muster. The servant smiled down on me and nodded his head, giving a quick bow and being off to the kitchen to fetch me my drink.
“You do not drink wine, my boy?” I spun around to the find the king and the queen standing in front of me. Shocked and slightly embarrassed, I bowed awkwardly and stood straight.
“Your highnesses. I apologize for having missed your entry into the room. It was most rude of me.” I offered my apologies, but the royal couple laughed at me.
“Do not be so civil, lad. You are among friends. I am greatly looking forward to your performance tomorrow during the tournament. Your training has been productive, I’m sure?” His majesty inquired. I very nervously nodded to him, unsure of what to say. Here this tall being, who, though I ‘d had counsel with him over the course of my stay, I did not know very well, talking to me as if I were a man, or even his own son for that matter. What was I to do?
In that moment of clumsiness, a sliver of grace peered through the space between the king and his queen. Lady Quinn was peeking through her parents to look at me, and for a small space of time I was paralyzed by the glimmer of her beauty, her subconscious enamoring. Her deep green eyes were wide with curiosity, her guise appearing to be shy and timid; her innocence was most attractive.
“My lad? Are you ill?” His majesty caught my attention. I felt my face grow hotter with embarrassment, for I was already so.
“Sorry, sir. No, I am not ill, but merely distracted by the splendor of this evening.” I explained quite honestly. The queen smiled, making her eyes twinkle much brighter than the fine rubies in her crown. Her husband smiled in the same fashion, seeming to fancy me in some hidden way that I could not understand.
“Well, Douglas, see to it that you enjoy all of the splendor, and be sure to meet many new friends.” The king instructed cheerfully, walking off with his queen to another subject. And then I was left to look upon the fair Lady Quinn, who had been hiding behind them during our conversation. I knew not what to say to her.
“Hello.” I said, smiling crookedly. She giggled, her laughter sounding like a million wind chimes touched by a summer breeze.
“Greetings, Sir Douglas.” She curtseyed. My face warmed up further.
“Oh, but I am not a knight. I am just a soldier. Though, I would like to be a knight someday. But I am not one. Though I would work to become one. But I am not displaying interest in replacing one. No, I respect my mentors. But I would care to become one of their equals eventually, yet I am not one yet. Oh bother.” I knew I was ranting like a babbling idiot and that she thought me to be pathetic and stupid.
“May I still call you, Sir Douglas? Or would you prefer it I simply call you soldier?” She asked politely, stepping towards me to make the space between less like a road and more like a small creek.
“Uh…um…you may call me whatever you desire, my lady.” I bowed to her in an attempt to shield my face. She giggled once more.
“You are quite funny; is the entirety of your troop so humorous?” She inquired. I finally grinned.
“Not so. Though I do know some who reign as humorous if not more so than I. My comrade, Patrick, for instance. He is much funnier than I. You would laugh at his jokes.” I told her. She smiled and showed me all her pearly white teeth.
“Never before have I met such a gentleman, especially one who is so near my own age of twelve.” She observed.
We continued on in this fashion, a servant coming and bringing me my requested cider and giving some to Lady Quinn upon my request. The servant, whom I was growing quite fond of, informed me that if I were to be in any good standing with this lady, I should take the initiative in all ways, from drink, to food, to movement about the room, to dancing. I had not even thought of dancing until he had mentioned it.
“Does that mean that she is awaiting my request to dance with her?” I asked the servant while her majesty was occupied by another young lad. The servant nodded.
“But of course! You would not think she, the lady, would ask you to dance, would you? Just as one hails her coming, bows in her presence, kisses her hand, or asks for a strand of her fair locks, one must also politely request a dance, as a demonstration of affection.” He explained to me. I blushed.
“Is it so obvious I wish to demonstrate affection? After all I am but a boy, not a man.” I said solemnly. The servant placed his hand on my shoulder.
“Douglas, one path to take on the journey to becoming a man, is to treat fair ladies as if they are precious jewels, carved out from the purest of mines, polished and chiseled to perfection, only to sit before you now so that you may make the decision to treat them as they are.” He advised me.