So saying he took his leave and followed by Creeping Shadow, set out on foot for the home of the Wise One.
The queer little hut where the Wise One lived was not far off, and soon they stood before its door. Creeping Shadow looked with astonishment at its bright red walls, covered with magic inscriptions, whose meaning was hidden from all but the Wise One. She beheld with amazement the chimneys, like lighted torches, that topped its roof and the blazing flame-bushes that surrounded it. When the Prince knocked on the quaintly carved door and entered at the Wise One’s word, she drew back quickly and seated herself under a flame-bush until he should again appear.
Within the hut the Prince found the aged fairy awaiting him. “Hail, Prince Ember,” said he, rising to greet him. “You go upon a noble quest.”
“I go gladly,” replied the Prince, and the words came from his heart.
“You must not go unprepared,” returned the Wise One. “Upon those fairy gifts that you carry with you, upon the use that you make of them, the success of your adventure depends.”
“And what shall these gifts be?” inquired the Prince.
“First of all, a sword,” was the instant answer. “A fairy sword of power.”
“Alas!” sighed the Prince. “That I do not possess.”
“It can be provided,” returned the Wise One, smiling. He stepped to an ancient chest, deeply carved with mystic signs, that stood quite by itself in a corner of the hut. From out that chest many magic gifts had come, when need was great. Filled to the brim with treasures as it always was, none saw aught within but those gifts which were for his own use.
The Wise One bent down and fitted a key in the lock. After its manner the key turned of itself in the lock; after its manner the lid rose of itself upon its huge hinges.