The castle was quiet, which would've been normal. However the maid who found the king in his bed would soon find out that not all was normal. She had started her day the usual way, opening the door to the king's bedchamber, pulling open the curtains, allowing the sunlight into the darkened room. She went to the king's bedside, like normal. "Time to awake, your majesty. You've got a busy schedule today," she said, pulling back the blankets, only to find the king covered in black boils, and barely breathing. She let out a shriek, and ran through the halls, yelling for a doctor.
A doctor from the village, along with many of the king's servants, appeared in his room, waiting with bated breath. The king's son, Prince Rowland, stood in the doorway, trying to see over the adults who were now shooing him. An elf with the same golden eyes and almost-silver blond hair walked in, causing people to watch. Thithatir Longshield, the uppity boisterous Dwarven guard of the king, held his sword aloft. The elf, ever the dignitary, placed her hands in a defensive way, and stared down the dwarf. "Ye're not welcome 'ere elf," he said.
"My dear dwarf, I do not come here to fight you," she said, smiling. "I do believe we're here for the same thing." She looked toward the bed, causing the dwarf to follow her eyes. "The king is a friend of mine, dwarf. I do deserve some time with him as well." Now, as a friend and protector of the king, Thithatir couldn't let an elf in to see him, but, the hurt in her eyes and fear of losing someone so close to her was apparent.
The dwarf sighed, setting down his sword. "Ye may pass but, know that I'm watching you closely, elf," he said, stepping aside. The elf nodded in understanding and made her way to the king's side, leaning down on his bed.
He opened his eyes for a second and smiled, reaching up for her still young face, and caressing it. "My dear friend, you haven't aged a day since the last time I saw you," he said, weakly.
"And neither have you," she said, leaning into his hand. "I came as quickly as I could, my old friend."
The king chuckled and coughed, leaning back into his pillows, revealing to the elf the same black boils throughout his body. She gasped. She knew what this was. "The Witch's Plague," she whispered, pulling his tunic aside.
"I'm sorry, but what's the Witch's Plague?" a servant asked.
The elf stood up, looking at the servants and the king's young son. "The Witch's Plague is a nasty scourge, made from evil and vile magic. Very few have survived," she said, looking down somberly. "There is a cure however, but it's probably a year's ride out."
The young prince stepped forward, his eyes meeting with the elf's, and he sighed. "How long will he survive without the cure?" he asked.
"It depends on the strength of the person, could be days, could be months. I ride out tomorrow morning," she said, walking out of the room.
The young prince followed her, stopping her in her tracks. "I'll go with you," he said, matter-of-factly.
"It could be dangerous," she said.
"He would do the same for me," he said, standing up straight.
The elf smiled, until the dwarf cut in. "If the young lad's going, then I'll go along with ye," he said. "Me blade's been itching to see some battle."
The elf smiled, bowing to the dwarf and the prince. "As you wish," she said. She straightened and walked away. "Rest well, my friends. We ride out first thing in the morning. I shall meet you at the gates."
The next morning, the elf stood at the gates, leaning against her horse, using a dagger to whittle away at a stick. Her horse whinnied and pressed against her, stomping his foot. "Oh, Sevana. You must wait. We need food for the journey, we don't want to run out, do we?" she asked, responding to the horse who then nudged her, nibbling at the sack hanging off the side of the saddle. She sighed, reaching into the sack. "Oh, alright if you insist." She pulled out a nice juicy red apple and fed it to the horse who nibbled happily. The gates opened to reveal Rowland and Thithatir on their horse and pony respectively. The elf's eyes met Rowland's, and she bowed. "Your highness," she said. Then she stood, a small smile crossing her lips. "Dwarf."
"Don't be gettin' no ideas, elf. I'll be watchin' ye," Thithatir said in a gruff voice.
The elf jumped up on her horse and she nodded her head in respect. "I assure you, the feeling is mutual, dwarf. Now, come, we must ride if we plan on getting through the forest before it gets dark. Dear dwarf, I suggest you keep your voice down. There's many creatures who would prefer not to have a dwarf amongst them," she said, causing Rowland to laugh under his breath. Rowland followed after and Thithatir rolled his eyes.
"Turnin' the young lad against me," he muttered, following behind the pair.
It was a silent ride, with the elf focused more on the trail ahead, and the dwarf, who was normally boisterous, was surprisingly reserved. Rowland, ever the diplomat, rode up next to her, deciding to break the awkward silence. "So, what exactly is going on between you two?" he asked, pointing back at the dwarf. "Why don't you two get along? Or at least try to?"
"It has been that way since forever, young prince. Dwarves lost the war, and they've been angry at the elves ever since."
"'Twasn't me ancestors that slaughtered millions of dwarves."
"Oh, please. You dwarves of Toek knew the rules. You shouldn't have gone that far North."
"We needed wood for--"
"Oh, yes. Your forges. We currently war because you dwarves are too stubborn to admit that you were wrong. Typical," she said, a slight whimsical tone in her voice, as if she was being playful. She could see the dwarf all but blowing smoke out of his ears. "Relax, dwarf. I hold no ill intentions towards you, or your kind. I can't speak for the others, though." Rowland looked back at the dwarf, who was now reaching for his sword. Rowland shook his head and he grumbled, putting it back in its sheath.
They journeyed through the forest until... "Sh. Nobody make a sound," said the elf. The two companions stopped in their tracks and she reached for her bow. A twig snap, a leaf crunch. Somebody was watching.
"Ain't nobody telling me to be quiet," the dwarf yelled.
"We're not alone, dwarf," the elf whispered. She dismounted from her horse her bow still drawn, her eyes searching the trees for any signs of trouble. Noises echoed. Then an elf, dressed all in green and brown appeared, wielding a slingshot.
"Name yourselves intruders," he said, pointing it at the companions.
"You first," she said, putting her hands up.
"I am Wyn Acornvale. I am leader of the wood elves of Glacia. Now tell me yours, traitor," Wyn replied.
"Raumiel, of the high elves. These are my companions," she said, nodding towards the young human and the dwarf. "You'll recognize the young human as the prince of Glacia. The dwarf, well, I don't know his name. Please grant us access through your forest. It's impertinent that we get North. The king's life is in danger." Raumiel could see the change in Wyn's face at the mention of the king.
Wyn lowered his slingshot and put a hand to his chest and bowed, a sign of elven respect. "Forgive me. I have heard news of the king's illness. May the gods watch over him and keep him safe," he said. "The forests are easy to get lost in, perhaps I could come as a guide?"
"If you wish. The more the merrier," Raumiel said, bowing at Wyn. The elves had a mutual understanding at that moment. "Come. We must ride. It shall be dark soon."
Thithatir grumbled. "There's two of 'em now," he muttered under his breath.
"I like them," Rowland said, before riding off behind Raumiel. Thithatir followed, reluctantly, as he didn't like the elves.
The companions eventually came upon a clearing, but the sun had begun to set. So, there they camped. Raumiel had a fire going as Thithatir sat next to Rowland, boisterous and noisier than ever. "Young prince, 'ave I ever told ye how the dwarves won the great ogre wars?" he asked. Rowland, shook his head, interested. "Well, tha ogres found themselves in the kingdom of the dwarves, Toek." A snicker from Wyn, who was enjoying his dinner of berries and leaves, caused the dwarf to look at him, glaring. "What's so funny, elf? Think I'm lying?"
"Oh, no, dwarf. You're telling the story all wrong. It wasn't the dwarves. The dwarves would've been crushed under the ogre's gigantic feet. No, it was the elves."
"Dwarves are great warriors," the dwarf said, puffing out his chest. "We can take on any enemy that is thrown at us."
"Dwarves are also of the idiom attack first, think second."
Raumiel, who was exceptionally quiet, laughed inwardly. "He's got a point," she said. "Dwarves aren't exactly known for their intelligence." The dwarf bah'ed once more, and grumbled going over to a corner of the clearing. Raumiel smiled, shaking her head. The sun had set and they had a long journey ahead of them. "Well, it's getting late. I'll take the first watch. The rest of you should try to rest." Wyn and Rowland laid down and Raumiel headed for the clearing, sitting down on a tree stump. She sighed, staring up at the stars, saying a silent prayer that the king hold on.
Rowland, awoken by the sound of Thithatir's snoring, watched her. He walked very quietly over towards her, and she looked at him, inviting him to sit down. "Couldn't sleep?" she asked, staring over at the sleeping dwarf. Rowland shook his head. "Dwarves are exceptionally loud. I have a feeling you came over here for a reason? And not just because of the dwarf's incessant snoring."
"I'm worried about my father."
"As you should be. It's not an easy task." Looking at his face, she smiled. "I'm sure your father will be perfectly fine. We'll get the cure, I promise. Now, you should try to get some sleep, before the dwarf realizes you are gone." Rowland nodded.
"Good night, Raumiel," he said, standing up.
"Good night... young prince," she said, bowing her head. Rowland went back to his sleeping spot, and soon drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
The companions awoke to the smell of cooking rabbit. Raumiel sat there, turning the spit. "Good morning, fellow companions. I took the liberty of catching our breakfast," she said. She noticed that Wyn's face was sallow. "Do not worry, Wyn. The rabbit did not suffer, and I gave a blessing to the gods for the feast." Wyn perked up at that. "It's almost ready." Wyn grabbed a plate but instead of getting in line for meat, he gathered up leaves and berries.
"What's wrong with him?" Rowland asked, looking at the dwarf.
Thithatir shrugged but Raumiel sighed. "He's a wood elf, young one. Wood elves are known to be vegetarians, and are quite fond of the woodland creatures. Can't blame him, though. They are cute little things."
The companions sat and ate, chattering amongst themselves. Thithatir swatted at what he thought was a bug that was too close to his face. It continued coming back, though, and Thithatir looked, screaming as he ran away. It was a fairy, who began chasing him through the forest, landing him in a bush full of prickly thistles. He was stuck, struggling to get loose as the fairy came face to face with him, wielding a tiny sword. Now, fairies weren't all that scary to the regular person, but to a dwarf, they were worse than bugs. And like the elves, fairies weren't too fond of the dwarves, either. Raumiel laughed, shaking her head. "Imagine a tough dwarf like yourself being afraid of a tiny fairy," she said, walking over. She got in-between the fairy and the dwarf, and she leaned forward, bowing in greeting. "Why, hello there, my tiny little friend. I see you've met my dwarf friend." The fairy squeaked in a tiny voice, that nobody but Raumiel could understand. "We are on a quest to save the king, and he's a member of my party."
Another squeak and Raumiel laughed. "What's that bug saying?" Thithatir asked, still struggling to get loose.
"Thank you my friend, we shall get out of the forest as soon as possible."
The fairy flew off and Raumiel helped the dwarf out of the bush, and went to the horses. Thithatir grumbled but he eventually walked up to the elf, and sighed. "Elf, I wanted to..." but before he finished his sentence, she held up a hand.
"No need to thank me, dwarf. If we don't stick together, we won't make it out of this alive," she said, mounting her horse. "Now, we must move lest the fairies come back."
She kicked the sides of Sevana, and the others followed behind her. They rode until they saw the forest opening, meaning they were almost out of the woods. Rowland, excited, seeing as this was the farthest he had been from the kingdom smiled widely. "Well, come on, let's go!" he exclaimed, snapping his reins and making his horse trot towards the opening, giggling. Raumiel smiled. So much energy for a young one.
"Yes, let's go," she said, following suit, with the dwarf and Wyn behind her.