DaddyBear the Minivandian looked down upon the scroll from Padrog the Snake Banisher school.  Next to him stood the Lady of Eyre, her face flushed with emotion.  Before him stood the Young Prince, streaks running down his crimson cheeks where tears had so recently run.

DaddyBear bent his knees so that his eyes were level with those of his young son.  The boy’s blonde hair was striking against the crimson hue of his skin.  This was the mark of a student that had transgressed the rules of the class in an extreme way.  Normally, the Young Prince would come home with a small, glowing, green mark upon the back of his right hand, the mark of a good day at school.  If his day was not so good, but not atrocious, his left hand would come home dyed a bright yellow.  If his behavior was very bad, he would be colored red from head to toe, with the darkness of the color magically getting deeper as the day got worse.  The Young Prince was the color of a bull red dragon during the rut, signifying a day that would be long remembered at Padrog’s.

“My son,” intoned my lord DaddyBear, “your teacher, Mistress Llewellyn, has sent this missive home with you.  It details  an accomplished list of transgressions.  Also, the master of the school has called upon your mother and me on two occasions already.  Do you have anything to tell us?”

“N-n-n-o, father.” said the Young Prince.   His chin was still quivering and fresh tears welled up in his bright blue eyes.

“It says here,” continued the Minivandian, a look of fatherly concern crossing his noble brow, “that you have come to blows with another young man in your class.  Have we not spoken about the need for you, a boy of great stature and strength, to not lay hands upon another child while not engaged in combat training?”

“Yes, father”

“She goes on to say that while in the chamber of music this morning, you were so disruptive that the sorceress of harmony wishes that you be accompanied to her class by an adult the next time you darken the threshold of her class.  Have we not talked at great length about your duty to be attentive and obedient in class, no matter the subject or the teacher?”

“Y-y-yes, my father.”

“And finally, Mistress Llewellyn writes that when she took you aside to correct you gently, you insulted her, called into question her motives and honor, and tried to remove the badge of authority from her raiment.  Is this true, my son?”

“Sniff, snarfle, yyyes!”

“My son, your skin is as red as any I have ever seen, and you seem to have well and truly earned that.  Do you wish to always be crimson from the top of your head to the soles of your feet?”  asked the Minivandian.

“No!  I wish to come home with the mark of green on my hand so that I may partake of the delights of the box of talking heads and play at games on the magic elf box!” replied the Young Prince.

“Then, princeling, you must earn that green mark, and earn it you shall.  You bring no honor to yourself or your house when you walk about the color of a cooked lobster.   Henceforth, I hope that you shall find it in you to contain your impulses at school, keep a respectful tongue in your head, and neither attempt to harm nor even touch another student.  Do you understand me, my son?”

“Yes, father.  I understand.  I shall try harder tomorrow, I swear!  But father, shall I be forever cursed with this hue?”

“Nay, my son and heir.  The mark of today shall fade as you sleep tonight, and you shall start anew tomorrow.  If you choose to obey the rules, respect your teachers and other students, and act in the manner your mother and I expect, then shall you come home with green upon your hand and the rewards for that shall be wonderful.”

“Oh, thank you, father!  I will try, I truly will!”

“Good my son.  Tomorrow, you shall also apologize to those you have wronged, and I only ask that you keep your honor and that of your ancestors in mind as you go through the day.”

The Minivandian then took his son to his breast, and hugged him tightly.  It was never easy to be angry with the Young Prince, and DaddyBear hoped that the day of red, discussing it with his parents, and the loss of his nightly entertainment would be enough to correct the issues that seemed to be plaguing the Young Prince.

“Now, my son, you shall go to your room and entertain yourself while your mother and I discuss today’s events and prepare the evening meal.  But before you go, please know that we love you, and that we want you to do well in your lessons.  Please remember that tomorrow as you try again.”

The Young Prince wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, snuffled once or twice more, then ran to embrace his mother.  After a long, tight squeeze, he scampered off to his bedchamber, there to play with his blocks of building and his new pet, a miniature talking panther.

My lord DaddyBear and his mate, the Lady of Eyre, then discussed what could be done.  A missive was dispatched to Mistress Llewellyn, and a meal of fowl and potatoes was prepared.  As DaddyBear said the prayer of thanksgiving for the meal, he silently prayed to all that is holy that his son would find his way in the temple of learning.

So did the Minivandian and his family work through the tribulations of the Young Prince.  His way was never smooth, but he did eventually find it.  Many years later, as the Young Prince took his father’s place he encountered the same challenges with his son, as had his father, and his father before him.  The Young Prince took the lesson of his own troubles and used it to help his progeny, thus continuing a long family tradition of talks with educators about the behavior of young barbarians.

But that is a tale for another day.   Now, let me tell you tales of high adventure….