A Questionable Quest

Chapter 0... in which our story begins

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With nights so cold and knights so bored

A tale will often tell

Of knights and nights and damsels stressed

Of dragons, queens, and bells

My words though sense they do not make

Do rhyme and herald not

Of nights and knights nor damsels stressed

So cliche goes to rot

But time will tell if tales will not

So cliche goes to rot

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The old hag grinned.  It was an unpleasant sort of grin.  A yellow-toothed, wizened (that is, to say, wrinkled), knowing sort of grin.

It was the type of grin that, normally, made any travellers to cross her path cross on the other side of the path.  Unfortunately, the two travellers today did not have such an option.  They were tired, and it was dark, and they had already stopped for the night.

Then the old hag had appeared, as if from nowhere.  One second the moony-eyed couple was sitting, laughing, around their campfire.  The next they were on their feet, holding various makeshift weapons.

The hag had just laughed.

Like her smile, her laugh was equally as unpleasant.  Rough and papery and shudder-worthy.  The couple had stared, and looked around, as if pleading the trees to give them a quick escape.

They didn't know the old hag meant them no harm.  They didn't know she only wanted to tell them a story.

The old hag glanced at one of the several watches on her bony, wrinkled wrist... and sighed.  "I'll have to cancel my next appointment."  She looked at the still-frozen pair, the flickering firelight illuminating her beady black eyes.  "There's a knight who cheated his quest, see," she said, in a rather normal voice.

One of her companions shifted.  In surprise?  Fear?  Who knew.

"Ah well, it can't be avoided, I suppose."  She sat, slowly, on the nearest log which had been pulled up to the fire.  The hood of her black cloak fell to her shoulders, revealing patches of limp, grey hair and a sunken-in face.

One of the campers shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh really, do sit.  We have a long night ahead of us."

"You-you're-you're a..." one of the campers, a young man, stuttered.  The hag looked at him, waiting.  She knew what was coming.  Then again, she always knew what was coming.  It was just that some version of this moment happened every time, and she'd come to expect it.

"You're a hag!"

"I am not," she corrected sharply, "a hag.  I am a seer.  Seers are magical.  Hags serve no practical purpose, other than to muddy the name of good and honest seers like myself."  The seer frowned, sternly.  "Now sit.  You're being rude, and I'm already running late."  She shook her arm, and her several watches all rattled and clanked.

The campers sat, as one did when lectured about manners by an all-powerful seer.

The seer nodded, satisfied, then she spoke.  Her voice was different this time.  Raspier.  Drier, like sand on a cliffside.

"Princess Ariabelle Tatiana," she began, for her confused but attentive audience, "was no ordinary princess..."

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***Author's Note*** 

Hey all!  I worked really hard on this over the past Camp NaNoWriMo month and I don't want to keep you from getting to the real story (this here was just a teaser bit), but I want you to know that All My Rights To This Work Are Reserved For Me.

I thought I'd put it in capitals, to make it sound more important.

But seriously, don't steal my work.  Just don't.  Not cool.

Anyways, continue on, have fun, and enjoy!!!