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The Tale of Meghan the Spirited
I am about to tell you a tale, a tale about Meghan the Spirited, or in other lands known as Meghan the Illogical. You may well be familiar with this title. In fact, you may know a few legends about her. Well, let me tell you, curious listener, that those stories are far from the truth. The tale of Meghan the Spirited, or whatever you may call her in your world, it doesn’t really matter to me, is not a fairytale. No it is not. Oh yes, she does survive her adventure, conquer evil, live happily ever after, yadda yadda yadda, but that’s not the point.
You see, Meghan (I’ll drop the spirited part, it gets old) doesn’t get rescued by a prince as you may remember from your childhood. She rescues herself. Though the tiny enchanting Girttle is still included, Meghan followed her own instincts, her own heart. And that is why this story is holds so much importance, and why you should listen. This is an epic, fought by one girl and one girl only, who has many triumphs and failures, yet always gets out of the tall towers. And now I will begin.
Meghan was a princess in the country of Loowater, a nation noted for its constant muddle due to flooding and lack of licensed plumbers. Her parents were the king and queen (surprise surprise), and she had two sisters and one brother, known as the Royal Brats. Her life was pleasant; after all, she was princess. She had everything she could possibly be given. However, there are some things not possible to give as a gift. Meghan wanted to be more then a monarch; she wanted to be a hero, to be valued more than for her bloodline. But as you’ll quickly learn, Meghan doesn’t exactly know what she’s getting into.
One day Meghan met a Faun. She was sitting in her tower when the Faun, tall and beautiful, with a voice just as charming, called her down from her tower. He told her he was going to take her to a place where she would be more then a princess, where she could be free from expectations of kings and queens and officials and other such leaders who had nothing better to do than look down at her. Yet Meghan had never thought they were unkind before he heard those words. But I am just a girl, she thought. The Faun knows better. Suddenly her mind was transformed into something rather nasty, and she followed the Faun.
The Faun led her to a hole, much like the rabbit hole in Alice in Wonderland. Meghan felt adventurous. I wonder where this will lead, she thought excitedly. The Faun led her down into a dark labyrinth, deep underground. They walked a long ways. It was very, very dark, and Meghan began to feel a bit frightened. She could no longer see the Faun at all, and all she had to locate him by was his clippity-cloppiting footsteps, echoing all around and sounding off in every direction. This made it a bit difficult for Meghan to hear the Faun, and pretty soon, his hoof beats became a very distant, very far away sound; a whisper of a ghost. Meghan cried out to him, but no one came for her. She was suddenly quite lost, and Meghan, who had only once gone out to the village with her father for the anniversary parade, was caught dreadfully unprepared. She was alone, and this time, no daddy or mommy was able to help her.
Instead of panicking, which was expected of any princess to do, she decided that if she was already lost, she cannot possibly get more lost, so she tried to walk in the straightest, most direct line towards were she hoped would be her way out. But, as I’m sad to inform you, she was about a quarter of a degree off, and missed her turn to the tunnel opening. On and on she walked, and though she was exhausted, she kept on walking, for she was worried of what might be down in the underground and did not want to get grounded for being late to supper.
Later in her travels, at approximately 9:00 pm, an hour past bedtime (or reading time for Meghan), Meghan found something in the tunnel that was rather unusual and surprising. Seeing a glimmer of light, Meghan found herself looking at a round table, and on that table, sat a candle. It was as if it was meant for her, placed there on purpose so that she could be led out. It seemed so surreal to Meghan because it was too good for this new, cruel world. Even after her eyes had adjusted, it was stunning. Many a night this young girl had spent blowing out all of the candles in the large palace after parties and feasts, but never did the light mean anything to her. But now, in such an unfriendly space, it meant much more; not just comfort, but a way back home, which she could not find on her own.
Cautiously but energetically Meghan picked up the candle and began her journey, holding the light up in her tiny, clumsy hands; a symbol of courage and strength. She thanked the gods, who, she thought, must favor her, and then continued silently, and confidently, back to her home.
I will halt this story, just for a second, to remind you that Meghan does not know her way back. Just because she has a light doesn’t mean she knows the direction or location of the opening. And she is still rather frightened. But being in the light has much significance, because, that means the opposite of light can not touch her. It illuminates everything and gives her a new perspective that will ultimately lead her to success. Now I shall continue.
So, basically, Meghan is on her way home, she has hope, everything’s all good and well… but now is the encounter with the Girttle. Deep, deep down beneath the earth’s surface, lived a creature so small and ugly that it felt no one should look at it. It interacted with no one, never experienced love, and could only wish that someone would talk to him. Yet there it lived, all alone in the darkness, dreaming of sunshine and laughter. Its name was Girttle and he was sad.
As Meghan was walking along, she found it, sitting near an underground pond and crying at its reflection in the water. He moaned terrible moans and screamed even more terrible screams. Meghan, who knew a thing or two about mythical (more or less than “myths”) and had heard about the Girttle. The descriptions she read described something grotesque and monstrous, yet when she took a real good look at it, he wasn’t revolting at all; in fact he was kind of cute. Furry, round, silly nose. She wouldn’t have even known what he was without his rat-like tail. She then approached him.
“Hello. I’m Meghan, and you’re a Girttle. Now come with me to my palace, where you can live like a prince with a real crown and make friends and play and have wonderful tea parties. Please? And do stop crying, it’s all right, come with me.”
The Girttle looked up at her, confused and shocked at the girl. “Me?” he said, “But I’m…”
“Please hurry up, I want to go home.”
And so, Meghan, led by Girttle, found her way home and had a wonderful rest of the day playing Uno with her family (including Girttle). From then on she continued to remember and forget who she was; a loved girl who was much, much more than any old, run-of-the-mill princess.