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“Were you followed?”
Ranger Marshwalker stood guard at the entryway to the Elven King’s domain. The woods took on a new character in this area, serving as the barrier to the Elven Kingdom. The trees grew, fused together, and Ranger Marshwalker guarded the high wooded gate.
“Of course not,” Grand Wizard Cartman explained, “I used a cloaking spell for as long as I could, until the protective magic of the elves exposed me.”
Stan nodded, but surveyed the clearing to be sure.
“Very well. I’m glad you came.”
He opened the gate to the elven territory, ushering the grand wizard in before him.
“Yes,” Cartman agreed, “if only it was under better circumstances.”
In truth, he didn’t quite know what the issue was. He’d only received word that his services were needed for the Elven King himself. He’d been instructed, via a letter, to bring his most powerful magic books and enchantments, which he carried now in a satchel over his shoulder. If successful, the letter explained, he’d be wealthy beyond measure.
“Keep mum, until we enter his chamber,”Stan commanded.
Cartman nodded, taking in the beauty of the kingdom. Lush greenery, flowers more vibrant and rare than any in all the kingdoms, and ponds that glowed a beautiful whitish blue. The elves lived in the trees, in perfect harmony with nature. At the center, the elven king’s castle; the oldest and largest of the trees, a weeping willow.
“You first,” Ranger Marshwalker commanded, hand on his hilt. “But don’t take a single step toward my king lest I command.”
“Aye,” Grand Wizard Cartman agreed, climbing the ornate spiral staircase that wrapped around the tree and into the kings chambers.
A heavy velvet curtain draped the king’s entryway. As told, Cartman waited for Ranger Marshwalker to open it.
His chamber was stunning. As was the elven way, vines grew without disturbance along the walls and floor. In the far side of the room, on an ornate bed made of heavy oak, lay the Elven King. Lady McCormick knelt at the bedside, weeping.
“I’m no necromancer,” Wizard Cartman explained, gesturing to the body.
“He’s not dead,” Stan explained, “Look closely. He breathes, but will not stir.”
Cartman approached the bedside, brushing the vines that adorned it. He found the ranger’s words to be true. The king’s chest rose and fell steadily, but his eyes were closed. Cartman’s eyes traced down his body, the hands folded over his chest, the shimmering gold trim on his red robe, his long legs that were pressed together.
“How long as he been this way?”
“Lady McCormick found him this morning,” Stan explained, still standing at the threshold, “His condition has neither worsened, nor improved.”
Lady McCormick pulled her handkerchief and blew into it, continuing her sobs.
“I see,” Cartman muttered, “I’ll see what I can do.”
The grand wizard knelt, opened his satchel, and pulled from it a heavy book of spells. He flipped through it, searching for anything that might help. He had never seen a curse like this before, powerful enough to put elf royalty into a deathlike stupor. From the moment he’d seen the king, he doubted his ability to help. This was confirmed, when after trying his most powerful spells, the king failed to wake.
The grand wizard heaved a great sigh, taking his hat from his head in grief.
“My apologies, Lady McCormick, Ranger Marshwalker,” he said, getting to his feet, “this magic is beyond even me.”
“That’s impossible,” Stan argued, “Try again!”
“I’ve tried all there is!” Cartman protested, “There is nothing more!”
He made a step forward, and Stan drew his sword.
“You will cure my king,” he commanded, “Or you will take the knowledge of his condition to your grave.”
Lady McCormick gasped, rising to her feet to escape from harm’s way.
Cartman swallowed, but his brows furrowed. “A simple swordsman like you is nothing compared to my skill.”
“Your throat will cut just the same.”
Cartman fell back, pondering his next move. He could attack Stan and escape, but all he or the lady had to do was alert the guards. The elves would descend upon him in an instant- surely, he would not make it out alive.
He turned back around. The natural light that filtered into the room shone on the king’s face. King Kyle’s crown twisted into his red curls. Even his lashes had a rustic hue to them, made lighter from the sun. His nose curved outward, his jaw sloping inward sharply. His cheeks, speckled with light brown flecks and the most delicate pink flush. His beauty, Cartman realized, matched that of the rest of his kingdom; ethereal.
It was true, he had never seen a curse like this. He had, perhaps, heard of one, though. One befallen a princess in an another kingdom, long ago. She had been cured, but not with magic.
Grand Wizard Cartman sank down to one knee, as the king’s bed was close to the floor. Cautiously, he brushed a stray curl from his cheek, cupping it in his hand gently. It may have been his imagination, but the king seemed to stir under his touch. Cartman wet his lips, and placed a chaste kiss on the king’s sleeping form.
And then Kyle totally freaked on him.
“Cartman!” Kyle yelled, pushing him back and wiping the kiss off his mouth, “What the hell’d you do that for?”
He sat up on the old mattress on the floor and scowled deeply. Cartman had fell back on his ass, and sucked his teeth. Lucky he didn’t get a goddamn splinter in Kyle’s shitty treehouse.
“The king wakes!” Lady McCormick cheered.
“No, time out,” Kyle said, “That’s not what was supposed to happen.”
“Oh,” Kenny said, “What was supposed to happen?”
“You were supposed to use the golden orb of the deep elven knowledge-“
“The fucking what?” Stan asked.
“My basketball!” Kyle said, folding his arms, “I set up the whole storyline when we were playing yesterday, don’t you remember?”
The other three indicated that, no, they did not.
“You guys suck,” Kyle pouted, “I wanna start over.”
“Ah man, don’t start over,” Stan said, “We were doing so good! Did you hear me? I was all ‘I’ll cut your throat’ and stuff, it was so cool.”
“Yeah,” Cartman agreed, “plus if we start over than that means I got your gross germs on me for nothing.”
Kyle’s face turned a more obvious pink. “No one told you to kiss me, jackass!”
“It’s very popular trope,” Stan shrugged, “I mean, I can see why he thought to do that. True loves kiss or whatever.”
“The elven king and the grand wizard can’t be true loves!” Kyle whined, “It ruins the whole storyline.”
“I dunno,” Kenny offered, “I kinda like it. It’s dramatic.”
“Yeah, I agree with Kenny,” Stan said, “No offense but the orb thing sounds stupid.”
Kyle frowned down at the boy in front of him. Cartman’s face seemed to be a little redder than usual.
“Fine,” Kyle conceded, “But I’m not kissing you anymore.”
“Yeah, duh,” Cartman snapped back, “I only kissed you in a desperate bid to save my life!”
“So, okay, do we wanna take it from when the elven king wakes up?” Kenny suggested.
“Yeah, yeah,” Kyle said, rolling his eyes and taking his place on the mattress.
“Okay,” Stan said, “Time in.”