Christmas traditions

"Mehwy Cwhismas to aww an to aww a good fight!" Cooed tiny Prince Espa in his round,sweet voice.

"Momma, he said it wrong," his sister said laughing. The queen smiled,

"he'll get it right soon enough I'm sure." They smiled down at the sweet innocent toddler who was at that very moment, dreaming of knights at Christmas, sword fights with candy canes, and all the things a little boy comes up with in his dreams.

The years passed and it was quite obvious that the young prince Espa was destined to be a knight. He was brave, fast, strong, and kind. He grew into a dashing young prince, and everyday he dreamed of Christmas. The trees all sparkling the candles flickering on the mantle. Everything good he found, came on Christmas.

One day, when he was about sixteen he asked his father, The King if he'd ever considered combining the two great things into one. Soon, the crowds came in to watch the first annual Christmas competition. "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good fight!" Bellowed the Prince happily. It was a success. Knights came from far and wide to best a better knight, to prove themselves worthy of serving the Royal family.

But soon, the Knights numbers were falling. Less and less Knights came to the annual Christmas Competition, and it was forgotten. But the Prince, who was now the King, was devastated that his favorite holiday tradition was neglected.

"Go out," he commanded his page, "order the cities to send whatever fighters think they're worthy of the competition." That ought to do it. He thought and waited for a response. His servant came back

"No one wishes to leave their families on Christmas Your Majesty," he bowed as King Espa dismissed him.

The King thought long and hard about what he could do to bring back the games. He called for a servant. "Go out," he demanded "Find all eligible fighters and order them under the Kings command to attend the competition!" The servant hurried away. The next day the servant came back "they plead with you Your Grace, they wish to spend Christmas with their families." The King glared, he stood up, and went to the stablemaster. "Prepare me and an entourage a few horses," he said nodding imperially at him. So the King and his entourage raced through the towns ordering the townspeople to come.

The day of the competition all were sullen, excepting the prince. He ordered them to fight, and fight they did, but none tried hard. The King was devastated. There was only one Christmas in a year, and these knights had decided to waste it!

"Fine," he said annoyed, "It's a fight to the death. Winner gets to escape with their lives, and a tidy sum of money." And with that the games began, the greedy fighting for wealth, the rest fighting for their lives.

The next year, the terrified people came before the king. They were a less fit group of Knights, since so many had died the year before. His people pled with him to reconsider, but King Espa was too stubborn to listen.

The years passed and his kingdom suffered. Yet still, he ordered his subjects to fight, his bard singing a desolate song of despair. Soon it caught on and became part of the tradition. Year after year, every Christmas you'll here from over the hills and across the kingdom the sad song that replaced a classic Christmas carol with one of woe.

"Clashing through the snow,

Our only purpose is to slay,

'Cross the fields we go,

Slashing all the way.

Kills of dear knights scream,

All evoking fright.

How sad it is we're forced to sing a slaying song tonight!"

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good fight!