Rampion and the Tower of No Doors

Once, near the winding river of Tyne, there lived a couple who once believed they had everything they needed—a small garden, a cozy kitchen filled with laughter, and their baby boy, Rampion, who had eyes bright as the morning sky. But hard times crept in like slow winter frost. A neighborly disagreement twisted into an ugly legal battle, swallowing their savings and their home, leaving them with empty pockets and heavy hearts.

In their final act of desperation, they gave up the only light left in their lives: their son, Rampion.

Rampion was taken by a woman known to all as “Ma,” a woman with sharp eyes, mysterious ways, and a fondness for bargains she could not refuse. She raised Rampion in her peculiar manner, ensuring he grew into a kind-hearted, gentle young man, who would rather help a wounded bird than complain about his worn-out shoes.

On his eighteenth birthday, Ma decided to surprise Rampion with a new “home.” She handed him a small birthday cake with crooked icing, smiled, and promptly locked him away in a tower so tall that the clouds looked like neighbors, waving as they passed by.

Unfortunately, the builders forgot to include stairs, doors, or even a rope ladder. The tower had one lonely window near the top, which kept the curious away, and Ma was quite satisfied with this arrangement.

When the seasons changed, Ma decided to check on Rampion.

She placed herself under the tower and called out in a singsong voice,

“Rampion, Rampion,
Let down your hair!”

Inside, Rampion rolled his eyes and leaned out the window, calling down,

“Hair? Ma, it’s barely enough for a breeze to mess up! What exactly do you expect me to throw down there?”

Ma blinked, tapped her chin, and muttered, “Oh, right,” before pulling out her magic ladder from her bag and climbing up effortlessly, peeking through the window with a grin.

“Rampion, from today, I will use this magic ladder, so I can check in whenever I please!”

Rampion sighed, resigning himself to Ma’s odd love while he passed the time tending to two stray cats who found their way up the tower, playing chess with himself, and singing songs to the clouds that floated past his window.

Two years slipped by, and Rampion’s days continued unchanged until, on the first day of the third spring, the King and his curious daughter passed near the tower. As they rode past, a soft song floated down with the breeze. It was Rampion, singing to the clouds, unaware of the royal audience below.

Intrigued, the Princess glanced up at the tower that had no door and felt a tug at her heart. That evening, she could not sleep, haunted by the melody and the face she had glimpsed at the window.

The next morning, she returned and hid among the trees, just in time to watch Ma unfold her magic ladder and climb up. The Princess, determined, went back to the palace and commissioned her own magic ladder, returning the next evening when Ma was away collecting herbs.

With her heart pounding, she climbed up and peered through the window. The moment their eyes met, Rampion and the Princess felt something warm bloom in the cold air. Rampion, with flour on his hands from baking bread for the cats, froze mid-motion. The Princess, balancing on the last rung of the ladder, smiled.

Before either could speak, Ma returned, spotting the ladder with a gasp.

“Get down!” Ma shouted, her eyes furious.

Startled, the Princess slipped, falling into the thorny bushes below with a loud “Oof!” Ma, in her rage, scrambled up the ladder, grabbed Rampion by the wrist, and dragged him down the tower, tossing him into the deep forest.

The Princess, bruised but determined, dusted off the leaves and followed the faint trail Rampion left behind. She found him in a tiny forest cottage, scrubbing floors, washing dishes, and caring for the two cats who had followed him into exile, their tiny mews filling the small room.

“Rampion,” the Princess said softly from the doorway, “I think it’s time you came home.”

Rampion looked up, eyes wide, as the Princess extended her hand. The cats meowed in approval, circling Rampion’s ankles.

With a grateful smile, Rampion took her hand, leaving the tower, the forest, and the life of forced servitude behind. They returned to the palace, where Rampion discovered that freedom tasted sweeter than any cake Ma had ever brought him.

Soon, the royal palace was alive with wedding preparations, and Rampion, once the boy locked in a tower without doors, became the Prince Consort, loved not for what he could do for others but simply for who he was.

As for the cats, they stayed behind in the forest cottage, reigning as the new kings of the tiny wooden home, living comfortably on the kindness Rampion once showed them.

Moral of the Story:

Your kindness and courage will always guide you to freedom, even when you feel trapped in the tallest tower.