In which a Prince goes against an evil Count to win back his love

Long ago, in a faraway land (the name of which is lost somewhere in time), there lived a beautiful princess named Kanishka. Kanishka was intelligent, she was kind, and she was loved by all her father's subjects.

When she was nineteen, her mother, Arundhati, fell sick. After several days and several physicians, it looked like Arundhati did not have much time left on Earth.

After all the crying and weeping came the realization that her daughter, Kanishka, was still unmarried. So she made up her mind - before she died, she wanted to see her daughter married.

So Giridhar, the king, held a grand Swayamwar, where his daughter’s hand would be given away to one who was worthy. Princes from many lands assembled in hopes of winning the princess' hand in marriage.

With them came gifts, lots and lots of gifts. There were rubies, diamonds, talking donkeys that caught glimpses of the future, chained fairies (for what good is a fairy tale if there not be any fairies in it), dreams bottled in exquisitely carved... bottles, severed dragon heads that breathed fire when poked right, flying carpets, boxes that let you peek at gods engaged in unholy acts, and hundreds of other wonderful gifts.

But the princess paid heed to none of them. She had eyes only for Prince Al Mussel. Six feet seven, broad shoulders, he walked with pride. Yet, there was an air of humility about him. His bronze skin was decorated in battle scars earned leading his father's armies to numerous victories.

She knew in that moment that she would be married to no one but him. She walked up to him, holding his gaze she placed the garland around his neck, announcing her decision to all. She would marry Al Mussel.

The king was overjoyed.

A lot of people left that day, angry at the princess’ decision. One man in particular was Count Soo Merrysome, Kanishka's childhood friend.

"I implore you," he said walking into her private chambers later. "Reconsider. I know your wants, I know your needs, more than anyone else, I know. I’ll keep you happy. In time you will learn to love me."

"That is what you believe Soo." she said to him. "Besides, I have made up my mind, I intend not to change it."

"Don't be unreasonable."

"We are friends Soo." she pleaded. "Let us part as friends. Let there be no hate between us."

But egos are not calmed by words alone.

Soo prayed to Desire.

And while he prayed, the princess was wed, she had a baby, and mother died, she was happy, she grieved, her life was a roller coaster.

The year was almost over. While Kanishka was living her life, ups and downs, and everything in between, Soo continued to pray. He didn’t eat, he didn’t drink, he didn’t dream, he didn’t sleep.

He only prayed.

Then she appeared, Desire - the Goddess that is easily pleased.

"Ask what you want, little fool." she said. "And I will grant you your wish."

Soo took a deep breath. "I wish to be irresistible. No woman must be able to deny me what I ask of her."

Humans are a selfish lot. Their desires often force the world into chaos. But the Gods were not fools then, and Desire knew that the system, left to itself, would find balance again.

She granted him his wish.

And the world was thrown into turmoil.

Wives were repulsed by their husband's touch and ran to the Count's lands, mothers left their infants to fend for themselves, daughters and sisters abandoned their families.

Furious, the men got together and attacked the count. But his castle was surrounded by women, their women. The women threw rolling pins, pans, and assorted utensils at their men and the men just stood there. They couldn’t find a way to penetrate this army of women without hurting them.

Inside, Soo sat on his throne, women surrounding him, feeding him grapes and apples. Kanishka sat at his feet, forgotten. She was a symbolic victory at this point, and Soo didn’t care much for her. He had other women.

Soo sat on his throne and he laughed at the men who surrounded his castle, and he ate, and he laughed some more.

In his own kingdom, Mussel approached the court mage for advice. The mage was an old man. He could barely see what was in front of him and he could hear even less. His skin was wrinkled and his teeth were barely there. But his mind, that was as sharp as a knife. "Trap the demon Hate," he said to the prince. "Only Hate has the means to destroy Desire's schemes."

So the prince went, armed with spells and weapons and a few choice insults provided by the mage, Mussel went to Hate’s domain and he fought the demon and he eventually ensnared Hate. And when the demon was beat, it grudgingly told the prince what he wanted to hear.

"Take my sword," said the demon. "It will slice everything that you will face. Slice the count into a million pieces. And you will get what you wish for."

The next night, Mussel sent a courtier dressed as a woman into the Count's lands, while he waited on a far mountain, watching the courtier with a device that could see things that were miles away.

The prince’s plan was deceptively simple. The young courtier would cause a huge diversion, huge enough to distract all the women, and while everyone was distracted, the Prince would fly into the Count's castle and destroy him.

The courtier walked to the women, who were gathered around the count’s castle, protecting him. Then, he took a deep breath, and from and screamed -- "I bear his child! The count is mine, and he will throw you to the streets for he loves only me!"

"Shut yer hole you stupid wench!" a nun screamed in reply.
A pan came flying out of nowhere and hit the courtier square in the head. He screamed in pain.

"Mongrel bitch!" screeched another woman. "If he loves anyone in this hell hole, it is me."

"Envious harlots!" spat a fourth woman.

And so it started. The crowd of warring women grew every minute, until every woman in the land was a part of that crowd. They fought with words, with finger nails, with their teeth.

With the women distracted, the Prince, mounted his horse and sped towards the Count. The sword he had cut through the magical barriers and shields the Count had erected. He rode to the heart of the castle very easily, for no known magic exists that can keep Hate out for long.

Mussel spotted Soo in the castle and he jumped off his horse. "Fight me like a man, Soo." He screamed. "And die like the yellow bellied coward that you are."

Soo pulled out his sword and he attacked.

The two dueled; a short duel, but a duel nonetheless. Hate's sword tore through everything the Count threw at him - daggers, axes, scantily clad dancing women who were in truth demons.

Nothing worked.

Finally, when the Count’s tricks were all over, and there was nothing left to protect him, the sword tore through the count’s flesh, and it cut, and it cut, and it cut him into a million pieces.

The count was dead.

The enchantment had been lifted.

But not quite.

The Prince had overlooked one fundamental rule of life -- the freedom of any man, god or demon, cannot be bought without a price. There wasn’t much Hate could do to the Prince, but he would take what he got.

"Take the Count's pieces and throw them across all the lands." he had advised the Prince. And the prince did as he was told. He flew on a pigeons back and he threw every little piece of the Count across the land. But what hate had withheld from Prince Mussel was that his sword kill the body, but not the soul.

The enchantment still clung to the Count's soul.

Little pieces of the count, tiny and shapeless, still seduced the women. The magic still worked, the women were not really free.

So the men decided to do something about it.

They took these little pieces and they shaped them into things that could be worn on the women’s feet, they shaped them into shoes, and women loved these shoes.

And that is why, even today, women have an unreasonable love for those little pieces of Count Soo we now call Shoes!

A note from Ashwin

I owe thanks to three people for this little piece. pOokpOok, the nomad and Serendipity. They made me realize that women share an unnatural relationship with their shoes (or shoes share an unnatural relationship with their women, or... whatever).

So, thank you, you three!

Also, I believe I owe thanks to Neil Gaiman; who is probably going to throw up if he realizes his stories inspire this kind of rubbish. But, I read Sandman and that's where I got part of this idea from. Specifically, the story about "why the weaver bird is brown".

Irealise Neil Gaiman isn't exactly well recieved, and I don't like what he's done, but I was inspired by his work back when I knew nothing about the things he did. So... yeah.

okbyethanks.