The Origins of Evinrude
This story was written for Trifecta’s weekly prompt, and also continues the saga of the Third Little Pig, which has now involved Prince Evinrude and the Lady Eulalie and several other people. Stories are tricksy like that. Enjoy!
Evinrude hadn’t really wanted to be a prince. He particularly didn’t want to be one now, considering that he was stuck in a clammy corridor with a giant snake barreling towards him, his only defense a magical sword of unknown properties. How had he gotten into this? His family, House Charming, hadn’t always ruled their small kingdom, had it? Evinrude’s history tutors, curiously enough, had never told him about House Charming’s origins. Evinrude didn’t even know who the first Charming king was. He assumed the man had been some heroic prince who’d married the right princess. The real story was a bit more complicated.
It had all begun with a frog. A frog named Herbert, specifically. Herbert rmembered exactly the day he had achieved consciousness. The wizard had no idea what he was doing, just mucking about with his wand. Herbert had been just sitting there thinking froggy thoughts, when suddenly, bam! He knew things. He knew, specifically, how locks worked. And so he escaped that very night, seeking a quiet place where he could be happy. Eventually he splashed down in a lovely little pond with flies and water lilies everywhere. “Finally,” Herbert thought. “I can settle in peace and-”
“Oooh! A frog!” cried a nearby princess. “I can kiss it and make it a prince and live happily ever after!”
“Er, half a minute,” Herbert protested as the princess grabbed for him. “I’d really rather not-”
Smerp went the princess. Flash went Herbert. He tried changing back, but a second kiss didn’t reverse the magic, and it only made the princess think he really liked her. Herbert spent the rest of his days chasing the rainbow of frogginess, but he never succeeded. He and the princess decided not to tell their children that their father was a frog, for obvious reasons. And so Evinrude didn’t know a thing about his froggy backstory. Nor could he explain why he, every so often, had an inexplicable desire to go jump in a pond.
