THE PRINCE WHO REFUSED TO BE HEROIC

THE MUSICAL MENACE

Chapter Three – The Musical Menace

The trail of off-key confessions led the group deep into the Whispering Woods, where the trees leaned in close like nosy neighbors. The further they walked, the louder the singing became — and the more absurd the confessions.

“🎵 I kissed my neighbor’s cow! 🎵” bellowed a man hiding in the bushes.

“🎵 I never wash my socks! 🎵” sobbed a merchant clinging to a tree.

Elric munched on a custard tart as they walked. “I’m starting to think I’m the only one in this kingdom who’s normal.”

“Normal?” Tara snorted. “You once asked the royal blacksmith to turn a frying pan into a crown.”

“It was innovative,” Elric said defensively.

They followed the fog until it thickened into a shimmering wall around a crooked tower at the forest’s edge. Purple mist puffed out of every window in great swirling clouds, carrying a voice so sharp and high-pitched it made the birds faint mid-flight.

Inside, they found a man in a glittering green cape, twirling across a stage made of stacked pianos. His hair was styled into a perfect wave that bounced with every spin. In one hand, he held a golden baton that shimmered with magic; in the other, a stack of sheet music that glowed faintly.

“Behold!” the man sang in perfect pitch. “I am Maestro Veritas — composer of honesty, destroyer of lies!”

Elric raised a hand. “Quick question — did you audition for this job, or are you just cursed with a lot of free time?”

The Maestro gasped so loudly it echoed. “You dare mock the Art of Truth? Soon, all of Grindlewood will reveal its secrets in song! Even… you, lazy prince.”

With a flick of his baton, a ribbon of fog snaked toward Elric.

“Oh no you don’t!” Tara shouted, firing a counterspell — which, unfortunately, only turned the fog bright pink and gave it a faint smell of strawberry milk.

Grunk stepped forward, hands on his hips. “Sir, your rhyme scheme is weak. You rhyme ‘truth’ with ‘youth’ — amateur mistake.”

The Maestro clutched his chest as though stabbed. “My rhymes are perfect! I have an award from the International Guild of Magical Musicians!”

Sir Buttons’ armor squeaked as he pointed his sword. “Release the kingdom from your curse, or face our wrath!”

The Maestro smirked. “Wrath? No, no, no — this calls for a duel.” He tapped the baton twice, and the tower floor transformed into a glowing stage. Spotlights blazed. An orchestra of enchanted instruments floated into the air.

Elric groaned. “Great. We’re about to fight a man who battles with choruses.”

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