Once upon a time, there was a girl with a magic mirror. With a story like this, you might assume that this girl was a princess. You, sir or madam, are wrong. This girl was a knight.
Alexandra was born to the (formerly) amazing and grand Sir Elyas the Fantastic. As she didn’t have any brothers, it was her duty to become her father’s squire, and eventually became a knight herself. 
It was the summer of Alexandra’s seventeenth birthday. It was at this age that most girls would become the bride of a handsome prince from a neighboring kingdom. One fateful morning, as Alexandra sat in front of the magic mirror that had been gifted to her from the prince when she was knighted, putting her makeup on for the day, she had a disturbing thought. This particular speculation was interrupted by the magic mirror (whose name was Patrick) speaking to her.
“Your eyeliner is on fleek, Dame Alexandra,” spoke the magic mirror.
“Thanks, Patrick,” spoke Alexandra as she penciled in her eyebrows.
Putting her hair into a loose braid, she pulled on her trousers and a shirt, along with her boots, and headed out the door of the house.
Near the creek, she found her best friend. Holden had grown up as the son of the family blacksmith and was the most trustworthy person she had ever had the pleasure of knowing.
“Hey, stranger,” she said as she walked up to him.
He smiled as he put the hammer he was using down and pulled off his gloves. “Hello, m’lady,” he said, bowing towards her and causing a bubbly laugh to erupt from her mouth.
“Hello, kind sir,” she replied, bowing dramatically.
A light chuckle escaped his smiling face. “What’s up, love?”
Alexandra preened at the pet name. “Not much. Last night Dad said something about a quest, so I might learn about that later, but I’m free this morning.” She thought for a moment. “Want to go to the tree?”
The tree was an old oak tree, perfect for climbing, where Alexandra and Holden had carved their initials as kids, back when both of them were missing a few teeth and refused to bathe. It was their safe haven, surrounded by other trees inside the Forest of Howlter.
Sitting beneath the tree with Holden, Alexandra couldn’t help thinking about her quest. Who needed help this time? Would it be dangerous? What would happen if--
“Alexandra. Earth to Alexandra. Look who’s on their way.”
Snapping out of her daydream, Alexandra focused her vision on the figure approaching on horseback. Her father. She sighed.
“Alexandra! Let us return to our home. We have business to attend to.”
Alexandra rolled her eyes. “What kind of business? It’s Sunday. We don’t do business on Sundays.”
“You’re wanted by the prince for a quest. Now, hop on; he’s waiting for you.”
Back at home, Alexandra, her father, and Prince Phillip were sitting around the kitchen table.
Alexandra stifled a laugh behind her hand. “Wait. You’re telling me that your brother needs to be rescued because he made a bet to slay the dragon, and couldn’t?”
Prince Phillip rubbed his temples. “Yes,” he finally sighed. “Just -- can you get him? I’m sure you’ve heard the news of my engagement to Princess Lucy, and all this planning is enough stress without having to worry about my kid brother being stuck in a tower.”
And so, armed with her sword, a backpack full of bagel bites and Arizona, Alexandra set off for the forest of Lestershire.
Upon reaching the forest, Alexandra realized that she had forgotten to bring along her pocket-sized Patrick to help guide her. Oh, well. She would have to deal with it and manage on her own.
Fortunately, she knew her way around this forest and decided to stop by the hats-and-hot-cereal merchant, Dan. After she purchased a hat made entirely out of raw spaghetti and a bowl of porridge with pickles, she got back up on her horse, Ophelia, and was on her merry way.
At the edge of the Forest of Lestershire lays a strange land, an expanse of mountain and valley that truly cannot be described. Alexandra knew that Prince Evan was in here somewhere, and finding him would be extremely difficult because she didn’t know this part of the kingdom at all and--
Wait. What was that strange noise?
Climbing off of the horse, Alexandra walked slowly towards the noise. It sounded just like--
“Help! Somebody help! I’m stuck up here with a pink sparkly dragon!”
Well. Maybe not so difficult after all.
Climbing back onto Ophelia, Alexandra began the ascent up the mountain. Upon reaching the top, she leaped off the horse, executing a perfect dive roll. Much like a ninja, she creeped along the treeline until she reached it -- the tower.
As she took a step forward, her foot got caught in something sticky. Something -- pink?
The pink stuff was everywhere. In the trees, on the ground, and covering the sleeping dragon that was laying at the foot of the tower.
With the glitter grenade she had carefully taken out of her bag, she gently pulled the pin and rolled it towards the tower and the dragon. Taking shelter behind a large tree, she waited a patient few seconds before she heard the telltale fairy sparkle noise and poked her head out.
The dragon had turned into a very small dragon, still sleeping at the base of the tower. Alexandra picked it up gingerly and placed it in her bag. Searching around the base of the tower, she found what she was looking for -- a very obvious, large red button that stated in bold black letters “PRESS FOR STAIRWAY”.
Alexandra sighed. Naturally. Climbing the stairs, she found a door. To her complete sarcastic surprise it wasn’t locked. Entering the tower room, she called out. “Hello? Prince Evan?”
“Oh, thank King Peter that you’re --” he stopped abruptly. “Wait a minutes, you’re a girl!”
Alexandra nodded very slowly. “Yes. I am a girl. Anything else?”
Prince Evan scoffed. “You’re a woman. Do you know how emasculated this makes me feel? Do you have any idea?”
Alexandra rolled her eyes. So he was one of those people. Of course. “Look, you stale pretzel,” she began. “I don’t have time for your sexism. No, not today, bro. So if you wouldn’t mind, you misogynistic woolen sock, go down these stairs as fast as possible. And quit pouting, you anthropomorphic beet casserole!”
He glared at her before descending the stairs, still pouting, much like a child who hadn’t gotten the treat he was promised at the store.
“Why would they send a woman to get me?” Prince Evan murmured under his breath.
“Oh, shut up, you absolute curtain rod,” Alexandra shot back.
Forcing him to sit behind her on Ophelia’s back stirred up another slough of insults.
“Quit groping me, you moldy grape,” spat Alexandra, nearly kicking him off the horse.
Once to the middle of the Forest of Howlter, Alexandra did kick the prince off of the horse. “I’ve done my job. You can walk back to the castle from here.”
And so, he did. Alexandra followed him until the edge of the forest in case of any rogue beasts (as much as she disliked the prince, she was a woman of her word, and had promised Prince Phillip that she would return his brother safely).
“Don’t expect me to save you next time, you useless paperclip,” Alexandra shouted at Evan as he walked through the castle gates.
Riding back to the manor, she pondered the existence of Evan and what possibly could have turned him into such an ignorant burnt-out lightbulb.
If this was a fairytale, our hero would fall in love with a wonderful person and get married and live happily ever after.
Sorry to disappoint.

THE END