Not so very once upon a time ago, in the mystical, far away land of Garnia, lived the good elf King Bobrond and his fair elf Queen Gwenriel. Together they presided over the Kingdom of Modemdell, a fair and enchanting realm where fairies flittered, unicorns frolicked, rabbits snuffled and gingerbread men ran. The elf residents of this land lived in perfect harmony with the natural world, and befriended many of the beasts who dwelled with them. The King and Queen were fair and just rulers and, barring the occasional communist uprising, the days passed by in peace.
Then one night, the King had been working very late and returned to his chambers in a very irate manner. It had been a very long day negotiating a peace treaty between the squirrels and the hedgehogs, and all that he desired was some rest. However, he was surprised to find his Queen lying on their bed, dressed in a revealing gown that she only ever put on for special occasions. In her hands she held two glasses of juice from the golden froozberry tree, and on her face radiated a smile that caused the King to instantly forget his tiredness. He lay down upon the bed next to her, gazed at her lovingly for a few moments, before proceeding to take great pleasure in her company for the rest of the evening.
Nine months later Princess Elesbeth was born. And there was much rejoicing.
The years passed, and the young Princess grew and grew. Her hair was the colour of sunlight, her eyes the colour of morning dew, and barring a brief period when, aged fourteen, she was forced to wear braces and suffered a mild acne problem, her beauty was the talk of the kingdom. Soon she was of the age where many suitors began to seek her hand, yet she rejected them all. She was happy to simply wander through the meadows and forests of Modemdell with the many furry creatures that lived there.
Often she would sing, and would fill the fields and woodland with the sultry sound of her distinctly average voice. She secretly harboured a dream of one day singing before all members of the kingdom as part of some kind of show of talent, but her mother had warned her of the follies of such a dream, saying they were not befitting of a princess. She didn’t have the heart to tell her, quite frankly, that she wasn’t really good enough.
Eventually her father grew tired of her aimless wanderings. Remembering the exploits of his youth, he decided that it was not natural for a princess of her age to show such a lack of interest in frolicking with the elf men of the kingdom. Therefore he called a great banquet in her honour, with the intention of finding a suitor for his daughter, and who may one day rule the kingdom in his stead.
It was the day of this banquet, and Elesbeth was walking through her favourite patch of woodland. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her face, and was singing one of her favourite songs, “Do not cease belief.” The sound of her frankly non-descript voice woke many of the creatures in the area. One of these was Rory the Racoon. He uncurled himself, scampered out of his nest and trotted over to the path where Elesbeth was skipping. He stood on his hind legs, gave a twitch of his nose, and then said “oi, keep that bloody racket down will ya?”
Elesbeth stopped singing and turned to face him. “Sorry Mr Racoon, I did not mean to disturb you!” she said sweetly as she sat down on a nearby toadstool.
“Yeah well think before opening your trap next time. Some people have a night of foraging ahead you know” Rory Racoon retorted with a snort.
“Leave the poor dear alone now!” said a voice from above them. They looked up to see Beatrice Barn Owl circling above their heads. She landed on a nearby branch and gazed over at Elesbeth with her big brown eyes. “She’s got a big night ahead of her as well you know. Are you looking forward to it pet?”
“Who wouldn’t?” squeaked a voice from Elesbeth’s feet. She looked down to see Vernon Vole scurrying through the undergrowth. Giving a smile that revealed his long rodent teeth he continued “all those elf babes in their fancy dresses, getting drunk on Froozberry juice. By the end of the evening they won’t even notice me scampering into their cleavage for a quick look.”
“That’s disgusting!” Beatrice Barn Owl hooted.
“Well you’re entitled to your opinion” Vernon replied.
“Just watch yourself. I literally eat people like you for breakfast” Beatrice Barn Owl retorted, looking rather tempted by the thought.
Their argument was interrupted by the sound of Elesbeth laughing. “Oh my little woodland friends you do make me laugh” she said. “Oh how I shall miss you.”
“Where you going then?” asked Rory Racoon.
Elesbeth sighed and gazed up at the beams of sunlight streaming through the canopy of green leaves and pink blossom. “I am not going anywhere Mr Racoon. I simply worry that soon I will not be able to traverse these woodland paths anymore.”
“They building over them or something?” asked Vernon Vole.
“Dude, that’s so weak” said a new voice. From behind a nearby tree trunk emerged Stanley Stoat. Swaggering over with a glazed look in his eyes he continued “she’s like, totally worried that her Dad will pair her off with some loser, so she can have lots of babies and ensure the future of his Kingdom. It’s like so the opposite of not cool.”
“Have you been at the mushrooms of the magical glade of bliss again?” Rory Racoon asked with a scornful sniff.
His eyes rolling around in their sockets Stanley Stoat said “I kinda have a little yeah. Man they were some good...”
“Oh I am ever so upset!” Elesbeth cried, standing up from the toadstool and clasping her hands over her heart. “I do not wish to upset my father, but I do not wish to go through with his plan of finding me a husband. How can I tell him of this without angering him?”
“Have you tried cutting yourself?” asked Rory Racoon.
“Of course she hasn’t” Beatrice Barn Owl scoffed. “Just sit down and have a reasonable chat with him. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“I don’t see what the problem is” said Vernon Vole. “You’re a beautiful nineteen year old princess. You should be getting it every time you get an opportunity.”
“Don’t be like that” Stanley Stoat. “This is a delicate flower standing before you, on the cusp of adolescence, trying to discover what role she must play in this big wide world. We should not hurry her. We should nurture and protect her as she discovers who she really is.”
“Go back to your mushrooms hippie!” said Vernon Vole.
Elesbeth gave a happy laugh. “I thank you for your advice my furry companions. But this is something I must face myself, and I fully intend to...”
She paused as a chill ran through her body. An overpowering silence had fallen throughout the woods. The birds had stopped singing and all Elesbeth could hear was the sound of the wind in the trees, becoming stronger and stronger. Yet the wind seemed to be circling around her, whistling past her body like a tornado. There was a clap of thunder, which confused her as the sky above her was clear. But then there was another, and another. Then a bolt of lightning appeared from nowhere and struck the ground no more than a few feet away from where she was standing.
Elesbeth could see the wind gusts now, circling around and trapping her in a violent vortex. She held her hands over her ears as the rumbles of thunder became almost deafening, and closed her eyes to protect them from the lightning flashes. What kind of devilry was this? And why was she, a pretty nineteen year old blonde princess of a large, rich kingdom, the target of such a malicious attack?
Then she heard voices. At first they were very faint and barely audible, but they grew in volume and clarity until she could hear every word they were saying.
“...what’s wrong Professor?”
“I canna control it sir! I’m giving it all she’s got!”
“Get it back under control, or I swear it’ll be lampshade time...”
Their voices faded, drowned out by the sound of the wind and the thunder. Elesbeth began screaming, hoping someone would see her and come to her aid. But no-one came. There was then a bright flash, brighter than any light she had ever seen before. It was all she could see. She was surrounded by this eerie light, and there was nothing she could do to escape from it.
All that the animals saw was a cyclone of wind surrounding Elesbeth, whipping up clouds of dust and leaves hiding her from their sight. They heard the rumbles of thunder and saw flashes of light from within the cyclone. But when the wind died down they saw, to their utmost astonishment, that Elesbeth had completely disappeared. The rest of the woodland had barely been touched: indeed it was as if nothing had ever happened. But there was no escaping the fact that the elf princess had simply vanished into thin air.
For a moment none of the creatures dared speak. It was Rory Racoon who eventually broke the silence. “Ok, let’s all agree on this. If anyone asks, she found religion and ran off to become a nun!”
I may continue this story at some point, if/when I feel like it.
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