• Once upon a time in a land far, far away, there lived a princess in a tower. She had lived there since she was 14, as a punishment to herself for carelessly losing her one true love. This was four years later, and the princess was 18. Her name was Rose, because her skin was as fair as a white rose, her hair was as bright as a yellow rose, her lips were as scarlet as a red rose, and her temper was as short and prickly as the thorns on a rose.
    She had lost her love on her 14th birthday. Her parents, the king and queen, had got her a brand new silver birch broomstick for her birthday, and she had been giving her love a ride on it. They were flying above the clouds, and it was so peaceful up there, skimming their toes through the top layer of clouds, that Rose had wanted to stay up there. But her love had wanted to fly beneath the clouds, and follow the River Never down to the sea. As they argued, she quickly lost her temper, and started rocking the broom. She didn’t mean to actually hurt him, just unsettle him a bit, but a gust of wind tipped him off the broom. As he fell screaming through the clouds, she regretted it, but it was far too late by then. She pursued, but only a few metres in, she hit a solid bank of storm clouds, full of lightning, and rock hard until they unleashed their power. Her love had fallen below this bank, and she had no way of getting to him. She realised that she had lost him, misplaced him in the fog. And so, to repent, she locked herself in a tower, all alone.
    Admittedly, it was a rather lovely castle. It was on an island in the River Never, and it was made of white stone, with a conical roof made of red tiles. It was filled with nearly everything that Rose could desire: books; plants; food; drinks; heaters; coolers; dresses; shoes, jewellery and a wash room. There was a balcony on the tenth floor, the highest, so that she could look over her parents land and see if her love was back yet. She had decided that she would stay in the tower until her love returned or ten years had passed, whichever came first. Then she would take her rightful place in society, beside her mother and father until they died and she took over the kingdom. Rose was still young and since she had had a very sheltered upbringing, she was also very naïve. It never occurred to her that her love might need some help getting back.
    One morning, as she was sat on her balcony, contemplating which shoes to wear with her silver dress, a little bird landed on the railing. It was bright, electric blue, with a dark gold stripe over each eye. This was not unusual, little birds were known to be curious, and sometimes they had overheard some interesting news.
    “Hello, little bird,” said Rose, “What brings you here?”
    “I have come from the Lost Lake, further upstream, out of this kingdom. I’m heading down to the sea,” chirped the little bird.
    “Do you have any interesting news from Lost Lake? Why is it called that, anyway?” Rose asked curiously.
    “It is called Lost Lake because all things that are lost end up there eventually. Properly lost, not lost on purpose. And yes, there is some interesting news. Something new has turned up. Mostly what turns up is just children’s toys, watches and homework. But this time, a man has turned up. We don’t know how he was lost, but he was, and he just wanders round calling for his love,” twittered the little bird.
    Rose knew instantly who must have turned up- it was her love! But why hadn’t he returned?
    “Little bird, how long has this man been at the Lost Lake? Why doesn‘t he go home?” asked Rose.
    “Oh, nothing that is lost can just go home. It must be found by the person who lost it. There are few people who ever find Lost Lake, as it can only be found from the air, and very few people can fly. Why do you ask?” cheeped the little bird, his eyes bright with curiosity.
    “I have lost my love,” explained the princess, “and I was wondering if he might be this man that has turned up.”
    “You lost your love? How careless of you! Well, if you wish to try and find him, the Lost Lake is at the top of the River Never, about 16 miles from here, as I fly,” tweeted the little bird.
    “Thank you,” said Rose, “I will set off immediately.”
    The little bird said its goodbyes and wished her luck, although privately he doubted that she would ever get there. She certainly did not have wings.
    Rose began packing a bag of necessities, food; water; a spare dress; a coil of rope and a map. Then she decided that the bag was too heavy, and since she would be taking her broomstick, she probably wouldn’t need quite that many loaves of bread, or the spare dress. And the shoe dilemma had been sorted out, because she never wore shoes when she was flying.
    So she slung her bag on her back, picked up her broomstick, and flew off to tell her parents where she was going. The king and queen were not happy about her having an adventure on her own, but eventually she managed to persuade them that she needed to do this. They agreed, but only as long as she was back before midnight. Her parents gave her a gold locket, that would bring her luck, and also had a handy miniature compass in it, as a parting gift, to help her on her adventure.
    She flew away from the castle to the River Never, and upstream. She flew and flew and flew, and it got colder and colder and colder. She felt rather inadequate in her light silver dress, and the cold wind blew her hair in her face so that she could hardly see the river that she followed. Eventually, the river began to get thinner, and she dropped her altitude in order to see it better.
    By the time the sun was beginning to set, it was really just a stream, winding it’s way down a mountain. She flew up, and eventually reached the top. And in the top there was a crater, and in the crater was a lake, and on the lake there was a small island, and on the small island there was a man, sat huddled up against the cold. She recognised him at once, even though she was quite far away, and it had been four years since she had last seen him. On the island sat her love.
    As she began nose diving towards the island, joy and the wind bringing tears to her eyes, the mountain started shaking and quaking, as if it were a great being beginning to wake up. It was a dragon mountain, the princess realised, an it was about to erupt! No wonder the little bird had been flying away from here: animals had a sixth sense about when these things were going to explode. And if it was rumbling now, it was only a matter of time until the boiling hot lava burst forth, and the dragon living inside the mountain began belching out great clouds of ash and steam. The lake, the island, and everything on it would be obliterated in seconds.
    So Rose, knowing that this was her opportunity to gain her love’s forgiveness, didn’t pull up out of her nose dive, she urged her broom faster, shooting towards the island at break neck speed. Just as she was about to collide with the lump of rock in the middle of the lake, she pulled up, and landed gracefully, calling out to her love urgently. Even as he raced towards her, another tremor knocked her off her feet.
    But he was there, catching her before she hit the ground, and together they grabbed the broom and sprinted towards the edge of the island, throwing themselves off, and onto the broom, and then hurtling at the sky, now dark, the moon just beginning to rise. But they weren’t out safely yet. They were flying fast, faster then either of them ad ever flown before, but the lava was faster, and as they left the lake, so did it.
    Red and orange fireworks pursued them as they soared down the mountain, a spectacular dragon chasing them away from his home. As these bursts of flame hit the water of the river, they turned to great gouts of steam that could blast the skin off anything, and Rose was once again in danger of tipping her love off the broom as she ducked and swerved under, over and round the steam.
    But he clung tight this time, and eventually, they were clear of all danger, and together again, at last. Rose soared upwards with her spirits, laughing giddily as the slightly damaged broom spiraled through the air. She and her love flew back home, beautifully silhouetted against the full, bright moon. The cold, crisp air made their breath come in clouds of steam, frost rimed the end of the broom and made patterns in Rose’s pale hair. But inside they were not cold, warmed by their love for each other.
    The lava stopped once it realised that it’s prey had got away, and receded back inside the mountain, leaving the dragon to sleep again. And the River Never bubbled up from a spring in the side of the mountain, and began flowing again, winding along beneath the happy couple.
    When they got back to her mother and father in the castle, it was one minute before midnight. However, the entire court was still awake, waiting to see if Rose and her love would come back. Upon their return, a great banquet was laid out and the day was declared a feast day, in honour of the princess’s bravery. A week later, they were married, and when the king and queen died, they ruled fairly for many years. Their subjects were very happy, and although her temper mellowed slightly with age, they learnt never to get on Rose’s bad side. Every year, the happy couple set aside one day, upon which they fly down the River Never to the sea, and remember.