You’re walking alone through the woods one fine summer’s day, wrapped in scents and gentle breezes, lost in wonder as shards of sunlight dance and flit through the leafy woodland canopy. You pause, smiling, and overcome by the simple beauty of the day, draw out your whistle, and play a haunting air.
“DOOM!” a bellicose voice blasts through your reverie. “Cursed be you this day!” And the air turns chill, as though you’d been wrapped in a cloak of winter’s early mists.
Mortified, you turn, agog you stand, and there before you on a fallen bough stands the King of the Faeries, eyes ablaze and finger pointing straight at you. And he is, oh dear, extremely p*ssed off…
Suddenly you see the reason for his ire…in your musical reverie you have blundered through a tiny glade, and a trail of miniature catastrophe marks your passage. Small tents flattened, trestles splintered like matchwood, a faery feast carpet-bombed by your own careless feet, and a host of very traumatised faery-folk gazing up at you in utter disbelief.
“This to you I say!” His most p*ssed-off Majesty declares, “This is your doom! No matter what instrument you choose, the very next tune you play shall be the only tune ever you may play, from now 'til your dying day!”
A shudder runs the length of you, the cloak of mist tightens, and the curse is sealed. You blink, and the scene of doom fades, and you find yourself alone once more, with darkness all about, and you flee the sinister glade… But the king’s words haunt you “…the very next tune you play shall be the only tune ever you may play, from now 'til your dying day!”
One tune. For the rest of your life, you’ll only be able to play one tune on your whistle, or flute, or pipes, or any other instrument for that matter.
Which tune would it be?
Yeah, I spose I could’ve just said “if you could only every play just one tune from now until you croak, which would it be?” but where’s the fun in that? And besides, someone would try and bend the rules (‘on whistle it’d be so-and-so, on the dulcimer so-and-so, on the Wurlitzer so-and-so’ etc etc). Faery King curses don’t permit rule-bending. Much more interesting…
