I will take your Curse, but for a price. The price is THIS. You must make a decree making the mistreatment of anyone "unwanted" punishable by suffering the same fate they give to the "unwanted ones". None must ever be allowed again to go without at least basic health care, food, clean water, and at least basic, good shelter. Ever waver in this, and our pact ends and these flowers will return to you. Me? Don't worry, the universe provides me with too much exploring to ever need something as artificial as dreams.
https://peakd.com/fiction/@internutter/challenge-04533-l149-sweet-scented-poison -- Anon Guest
Once upon a time, the stories are like to say, there was a king who fell under a terrible curse. They're always kings in the nursery tales, regardless of their original rank. In this case, the Noble in question was the Duke Eribani Bretisalus, and the curse was nothing more complicated than a vase of strange flowers.
They follow him around, no matter what he tried to be rid of them.
Harming the flowers in any way caused him pain. Either by negligence or design, harming them hurt him. Trying to seal them away failed. Trying to hand them off to another did not work. No matter the manner of the charge, how vigilant the guardian, or how fast the conveyance taking them away, the flowers always managed to appear by the Duke's bedside whenever he prepared for sleep.
So he did what any in possession of a crown would do in those circumstances. He offered a hefty reward. The stories always say "half of the kindgdom and the hand of the princess in marriage," but the Duke was not that rich and didn't have a daughter. He did have a niece who was two years older than him and already married, so that option was also out.
So what he promised instead was a hefty amount of gold, and an achievable boon within his power. The reward was for either removing the curse, or finding a means for the Duke to achieve a sound night's sleep.
Even for such a relatively small reward, experts and wannabe experts swarmed. Some whispered that the only one who could remove the curse of flowers was the one who laid it, but there were always clever ways around such things. For instance, everyone and their kid sibling's pet knew that any curse could be defeated by true love's first kiss. There's also begging forgiveness of the curse-giver, or for aid from some high-level entities of superior power.
As with many other stories, experts and self-important people failed at every one of their attempts. And then... along came an underdog.
They were a Hellkin, green of skin with swept back horns. Their eyes were pitch black, as were their claws and fingertips. They looked like the quintessential evil devilborn, out to cause trouble. Worse and worse for the courtier's sensibilities, they spoke with a thick accent.
It would have only been worse if smoke or fire erupted from their footprints.
They did steam a little if they hadn't spoken for a while, but that wasn't quite the same thing.
They introduced themself as Vitality, and did the usual analysis of heartbeat and temperature. There were the regulation questions, and then they moved to the flowers.
Eribani said, "Ow," as Vitality plucked a single petal.
Vitality murmured, "Interesting," and suspended the petal in a small vial of alcohol. Swirling it about in the sunlight. They took it into the shadows. Peering at it in the shield of their hands. "Hm." There were powders in little dishes, each got a drop of the petal's alcohol.
One of them fizzed.
"It can be done," announced Vitality. "The curse can be taken away. I will ask my boon. Write it and say it on success. There will be risk. There may be pain, but it can be done."
Each bloom was dipped in a vase of alcohol before the stem moved to a different vase. The Duke had to drink the resultant liquor after spraying some over his skin. The next step was to take a gold cup and an offering of rare spices and fresh milk to the closest circle of mushrooms, as well as the vase of blooms.
There, Eribani had to recite an Old Elven prayer of forgiveness.
He woke with cuts and bruises, and a limp that would not go away. But there were no more flowers, and no more voices in his head.
Vitality only took a little of the gold. Enough to see them into another realm. "I asked... you have no more Unwelcome. Make it be law, and the debt is done."
Eribani was satisfied with the result. Therefore, his realm would no longer exile the Unwelcome, and to give them a solid chance to learn and obey the local law.
[Photo by Kirill Prikhodko on Unsplash]
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