In his favorite room in the palace Prince Ember sat alone, in deep thought. Spread open upon the table before him was a thick volume, written in the ancient fairy language, filled with tales of fairy adventure of a far off time. As he read and pondered them, his heart was filled with longing that he, too, might go upon some dangerous quest, might win some noble victory. His domain was quiet. His servants were happy and at peace. He knew of nothing that could call him forth. Tall and straight of limb and very handsome was this prince of the Land of Glowing Embers. Ruddy gold was his hair, like the fire when it glows most richly. His eyes were bright and kind. The cloak that hung from his shoulders was deep red and fell over red garments of yet deeper hue. From his round red cap a black feather drooped to mingle with the glory of his hair. As yet he had no princess, for as yet he had seen none who stirred his heart, though for want of her he was sometimes lonely, even in his Palace of Good Cheer. The fairies of his dominions loved him well and served him with zeal, for none was kinder, none more nobly just, than their own Prince Ember. Sitting in his palace on this summer evening, he remembered the brave deeds which Prince Radiance had lately done,—deeds not less splendid than these which were written in this ancient book. And while he sighed, because he felt that for him there could be no such high adventures, Rushing Flame was speeding toward his palace, on the errand of the King. The messenger gave no heed, in his swift passing, to the loveliness of the land, but turning neither to right nor left, came straight to the arched and golden gate that gave entrance to the gardens of the Prince. Like an arrow he sped through it and on to the palace door. An Ember Fairy opened to his knock and, when he told his business, led him quickly to the Prince. “Your Highness,” he announced, “Rushing Flame is here, with a message from the King.” “Speak, Rushing Flame,” commanded the Prince. “What word do you bring me from His Majesty?” “That you will come to him at once,” the messenger replied. “There are important matters that require your presence.” “Know you aught of what these matters may be?” demanded Prince Ember. “This much only I may tell you, Your Highness. They concern a dangerous and difficult adventure. More than this you must learn from the King himself,” answered Rushing Flame. Prince Ember sprang to his feet, his eyes kindling with eagerness. “See that my horse is brought quickly to the palace door,” he cried to the Ember Fairy, who still lingered near, “for I go in haste to my uncle, the King.” The fairy obeyed, and presently the hoof-beats of the ruddy charger that bore the Prince resounded on the road that led to the Palace of Burning Coals.