CHAPTER 10: Meaning Versus Purpose

The train ride from Bamberg to Würzburg took less than an hour, but the occasional piercing shriek was a bit annoying.  It was misty in the early morning when they arrived in Würzburg, the northern end of the popular Romantische Straße.

“Symmetry was the idea, but never the purpose or the outcome.”

The Magic Journal

Driven by the haunting, mysterious voice, Prince isolated himself from his buddies since then.  Mistrustful of everything he met or heard, he felt lonely and bewildered.  He had spent his strength in vain and was resentful of being unfairly treated by fate that did not follow a fairy tale plot.

Real life was messy.  Fairy tales often put an end to the classical storytelling at the best rewarding moment.  The happily-ever-after cliché was conceivably another myth.

Prince, naturally paranoid, was suspicious of the magic spell and suspected that the magic journal was signalling that the treasure was near.  It was no ordinary treasure chest filled with gold coins, silver cups, and gemstone jewellery.  The magic spell was something he had never had in the past, so he had to do something he had never done before.

Glistened in the dazzling sun, the silhouette of the Marienberg was flickering on and off behind a milky filter of fog.  Prince insisted on checking out the treasure-hunting path on his own as he was prepared to slay a dragon or two that kept watch over the magic spell.  He flew directly to the Festung Marienberg, situated a hundred metres above the Main River on the opposite side of the city.

Flying alone brought him joy for a short break, against all rules of gravity, like a kite without strings, a rollercoaster without rails, and a super jet off the radar.  He had a great time arcing with outstretched arms, wings, and ears, before he sat down on the sun-warmed fortress fence.

The Festung Marienberg was erected on the site of a former Bronze Age fort and served as the seat of the prince-bishops for nearly five centuries until they relocated to the baroque Residenz.  Prince flared his nostrils in the moist air with a hint of the earthy grapevine sweetness and his head bowed submissively.

The lights were glaring down on the vineyard, illuminating the terraced Marienberg and miles beyond.  As the fog cleared, the golden fingers were gently caressing the city of Würzburg, breathtakingly beautiful with majestic, elegant, striking masonry structures of domes, towers, and gangly spires.

In the meantime, the girl ushered the beastie buddies forward to arrive at the picturesque Marktplatz, surrounded by the Marienkapelle and the Falkenhaus.

“This market square is such a special place!” exclaimed the girl at the festively designed stalls of the Weihnachtsmarkt setting up in progress.

“It was just another square surrounded by a church and some civic buildings, based on the typical European central town square formula.” Bulb thought he knew what a European city centre was like because he had seen many of them and read more of them from the database so many times.

“Every Marktplatz is beautiful because it is unique,” returned the girl, with a gratifying smile.  “We have visited a few market squares in our journey.  We often skim over them thinking we know them all already.  We could have missed the full meaning and beauty in each and every one of them.”

Through gorgeous streets, and across the Alte Mainbrücke adorned with twelve statues of historically important figures, the beasties reached the foot of the Marienberg.  As they started to tread heavily and reluctantly up the vineyard, Prince noticed their splotches getting bigger in his vision.  Tick-tock.  Tick-tock.  He realised he would have squandered his opportunities by not searching hard enough while the treasure was near.

“Entschuldigung!” Prince waved his claw like mad at the human guard, “Wissen Sie vielleicht…”

“Of course, I know, Green Beast,” grinned slyly the old man in his smart uniform, “you have come to claim your treasure.”

“How do you know?” puzzled Prince, the Green Beast.

“Every treasure hunter before you had the same puzzling look, sat on the very same spot of the old fortress fence pondering the next move, and asked me the exact question using the identical German opening phrase…”

“Then hurry up!  What’s the answer to my question?” doubtful and impatient, Prince sized him up in a second.

“Go to the Spiegelkabinett at the Residenz Würzburg,” commanded the old man, hand-twisting his thick, white moustache, “Do the touristy thing.  You won’t be disappointed.”

“But I-I-I ain’t a tourist!” Prince roared and gnashed his teeth.

“We all are,” soothed the old man, “tourists to this no-magic land.”

“Anyway, what were the other treasure hunters after?”

“It doesn’t matter.  The purpose was and will always be fulfilled.  That’s the essence of magic, you’ll see.”

Prince believed he had been talking to a crazy old man.  Heedless, he wandered around the Fürstengarten, which was divided into symmetrical and self-contained flowerbeds and garden areas.  Having said that, plants were slanting towards the sun path; flowers, fruits, hedges, and branches were blending into an organic, integrated design.  Symmetry was the idea, but never the purpose or the outcome.

It just came back to Prince that he was the third magical creature out of his mage’s magic journal, five years after Chococo and Bianca put on their mascots.  The mage drew Prince the tallest of all, with wings, claws, a crown, and other exact specifications to lead the squad growing in numbers, so that they could share the wonderful castle-chasing journey together.  His mage did not follow the conventional fairy tale definition of a prince’s handsome image, nor did the mage craft his physical appearance with extravagant clothing.