PRINCESS WHITE FLAME
PRINCESS WHITE FLAME
PROLOGUE
OF all the fairy countries in the world none is more wonderful or beautiful than the country where the Fire Fairies live. Into that land no fairies of the earth, or air, or water dare venture. They would be seared, or changed to ash or vapor.
Many are the doors that open into the Fire Kingdom—thousands, and hundreds of thousands in number. Wherever you see the firelight flicker, wherever you see flames leaping and dancing, wherever you hear the snap of the burning logs, there you may be sure is an open door. Then if you choose to creep close to it, and peer in, you may perhaps see wonderful things; fairy forms that flit and vanish, and reappear, and vanish again among the leaping flames, and smoldering embers. Perhaps, also, you may see the shining domes and glittering turrets of the fairy palaces.
But when the fire burns down, and the hearth grows dark the door is closed—there is no more to be seen of that wonderland.
In the very heart of the Fire Country stands the palace of King Red Flame, the gleaming flame-colored palace, the Palace of Burning Coals. Round it lies a wonderful garden, where paths wind away among great fields of fire lilies, and flame roses lift their heads, and the tall shining trees rustle in the wind with a sound like the whispering of the fire on the hearth. Here in this glowing country the good and happy fairies work and play, and serve their king as all good fairies should.