In the previous episode, Soren took a book from the library to read more about the Changelings. As readers suggested, a fairy will descend from a tree to speak with him during his reading.
Soren read. And the more he read, the more he liked what he read. He continued in the fading light, squinting at the tiny print. To think he did not fit in because he was not really human. He could be a dwarf child. Or a troll. Or a fairy.
This last idea made him crinkle his nose. He did not care to be some winged sprite. But, he reasoned, it would explain why he never improved at his sword fighting, no matter how long his elder brothers beat on him. Intrigued, he leaned against the tree, watching the sky darken, the stars starting to twinkle gently.
As he watched, deep in thought, he heard something stir nearby, like the whispering of leaves in the wind, but without the wind. He looked around curiously, wondering if one of his brothers was about to sneak up on him, to frighten him as a laugh. But neither Henrik nor Filip appeared, so he leaned back against the tree as he thought about how great it would be to be a troll, and to sit on his brothers’ fat heads, squashing them flat.
Smiling through this pleasant thought, Soren took a moment to realize that something was hovering just in front of his face, half hidden by the darkness around them. It was not until a tiny voice spoke that Soren realized it was there, and he was so startled that he jumped, his head colliding with the tree behind him painfully.
“Dear me, I am so sorry,” said the squeaky voice again. “I did not wish to startle you, Prince Soren.”
“What is the big idea, sneaking up on people?” Soren grumbled, glaring angrily at the tiny floating creature. Realization suddenly dawned on him, and Soren quite forgot about his head for a moment. “You are a fairy.”
“A pixie, actually,” the tiny voice replied. Though he could barely see the creature in the dark, Soren pictured the sprite puffing out his chest, proud of his heritage as a miniscule flying insect.
“What do you want?”
“You are needed immediately, Prince Soren! Your people are in grave danger, and only you can save them.”
“My people?” Soren asked, getting excited. “Who are my people?”
“Why, the trolls of course!” the pixie cried as if it were obvious. “Your parents, the King and Queen, need you!”
“The King and Queen? So I am a prince of the trolls!”
“Oh yes! You must hurry. Your parents are being attacked by—“
But Soren never found out what was attacking the trolls. Rather abruptly, he was woken from his dream as he slid ungracefully sideways, landing in a heap.
“Stupid tree,” Soren muttered, standing and wiping the dirt off his shirt. But despite his rude awakening, Soren felt elated. He was certain that dream was a sign. And dream or not, he was determined to go find his troll family, to become their prince. It was his birthright, and he wanted it more than anything.
Soren is ready to go claim his birthright. But first he has to sneak out of the castle. Vote below on what will happen next or if reading in email click Take our Poll.