The victory of Vivo

The victory of Vivo

Once upon a time in the city of Vivo, life was not at peace, they would wage wars among themselves, agonized screams and bangs would fill the smoky air. Family’s would huddle behind propped-up wooden pallets while others would try to flee the tortured shrieks and bloodstained hands. Hands that had wrenched children’s heads off in a fury, had held the oiled barrel of a gun. No one ever remembered Vivo as a utopia, they remembered it as a blazing fury. Though far off, in southern Vivo, the princess lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She never had excitement or adventure though she craved it dearly, just as her pudgy father always craved turkey dipped in gravy, perfectly broiled salmon, strawberries trailing chocolate. He never ever cared for northern Vivo where brave heroes fell and newborns turned to crisps.

But, one day, a ferocious dragon, prophesied to destroy Vivo, erupted from the ashy ground, roaring with rage. “ Petty humans, always quarreling and never working! I shall eat them all,” he cackled and with a burst of golden flame he swept up an army and ate it, smacking his scaly lips that were coated with soot. The princes (of southern Vivo), who already had donned their bronze armor and polished their glittering shields lept into battle though every single one of them were cowards. “I won’t fight the dragon!” Said the first prince cowering in fear as the monstrosity licked up broken bodies. The second prince had already jumped onto his gleaming steed and was galloping away. But the third prince pulled his helmet off revealing the princess! She had been wearing the prince’s armour, and rode with them on the third prince’s chestnut stallion. “Cowards! Come and face me!” the dragon thundered. Before any of the princes could reply to the challenge the princess slid off her horse and stepped forward to face the dragon.

“A petty princess! A great meal for me!!” The dragon sneered, but the princess had already climbed up his leg and was now slashing the dragon’s gargantuan wing with pure rage. “You will not destroy Vivo! It is under my protection!!” The dragon’s sneering face turned into a snarl, and  he sailed into the air, but the princess still clung to the rips in his leathery wing. Finally the dragon dropped like a stone from the blood-coloured sky. Death had taken the dragon and now Vivo was free of the imminent threat. Then the two cowards and warrior had taken to the palace, dripping with sweat and smeared with grime and the good news on the tips of their tongues. 

“Father!” The princess yelled. “The dragon has been slayed! By me!” The king, already red in the face from the four whiskies he had downed, yelled “W-we n-need a-a v-victory part-ty!” The party started with a beautiful banquet and a dance. “Hello, your majesty…” a stranger-perhaps a soldier mused. “Hello…” the princess said precariously over than babble of drunken laughter and forks clinking on porcelain plates. “Very nice punch, isn’t it” the stranger said pleasantly. “Yes. But I prefer the margaritas.” The princess replied crisply. “I’ll go get some punch.” The soldier headed off to find punch, but the princess never saw him return from the refreshment table, that was covered in pink spangles. Even as she sat as queen herself holding a newborn in her arms. Even sixty years later she never caught a glimpse of him again, though she wished to know the pleasant fellow she had met on the victory party. Eventually she resided to a small farm in Vivo, happily.