Once upon a time, a great and prosperous kingdom once settled on a fertile coast overlooking the sea south of Zaron. This Kingdom of Kupa Keep was ruled by the firm and noble hand of the magical class, helmed by the great Grand Wizards of yore so that humans could live in harmony and away from their violent and savage neighbors - the Elves of the Eastern Drow, the Mino'Rities of the West, and the Canadians of the Great North.
There was peace so long as their Wizard King was just and good, but it wasn't long before the legacy would be tainted by spoiled princes and neglectful parenting.
Grand Wizard Jack, the fourth Tenorman to succeed the throne, had a very spoiled and conceited son. Prince Scott was sadistic, cruel, and selfish to the working class that comprised of his people. Unsettled by the murky future Prince Scott's eventual ascendance to the throne might cause, the High Priests of Radiohead foretold King Jack's infidelity with a town wench named Liane Cartman, and that their unholy union would bear a son. This prophecy came to pass and, on a strange cold day in the spring, the faint cries of Jack's illegitimate son would cement the future of Kupa Keep - for better or worse.
Years had passed and Prince Scott grew to be even more cruel and vicious once his parents died. When rumors abound that his father had consorted with the town wench, he summoned the woman as his personal servant in an act of vengeance. Day after day, young Eric would watch as his mother slaved away in the name of the royal family, suffering verbal and physical abuse from their cruel prince.
Enraged by their treatment at the hands of the Tenorman family, Eric finally unleashed the magic born from his bastard father's blood, and bested Prince Scott in magical combat at the extraordinary age of three. The High Priests of Radiohead named Eric as the true next heir to Kupa Keep's throne with the kind and gentle Liane as queen regent until he became of age.
Stripped of his rightful kingdom and shamed beyond recognition, Prince Scott vowed to take back what was his. He stole the fabled Stick of Truth from a faraway kingdom and, with its power, began his reign of terror upon the land.
His plight was all for naught however, for the Stick was coveted by the barbaric and warrior-driven Kingdom of Jersey. Summoned was the infamous hell bringer of the battlefield, Princess S-Woww Titty Bang - or later known as Queen Sheila of the Drow. With Queen Liane's support, Queen Sheila toppled Scott's magically created army and recovered the Stick of Truth as her prize.
With Lord Scott's shout of vengeance on both houses before he retreated, he had unwittingly brought a temporary truce between Kupa Keep and the Drow Elves - for they were once neighboring kingdoms best known for their arch rivalry.
Enlightened by Jersey and the Drow's alliance through marriage, Queen Liane wished for one with Kupa Keep after hearing that Princess Sheila was pregnant with the Drow Elf King's child. With the prospect of a strong unified kingdom for humans and elves, Sheila accepted. Her husband accepting the blessing, they began the first peaceful summit between the two kingdoms.
On an autumn's eve, a son was born to Sheila and Highest Elf Gerald - Prince Kyle. Kupa Keep's royal entourage stepped into the Drow Elf Kingdom for the first time in centuries to join the festivities and meet the newborn - and Prince Eric's future betrothed. Their parents would strive to make sure they would meet every summer in the hopes of them falling in love.
But this isn't some high fantasy Disney-knockoff fairytale - or maybe it is - for the resentment between the two kingdoms transcends even through blood. They couldn't have picked a far worse couple to bring together like Eric and Kyle.
Our story begins at the cusp of Prince Kyle's fifth year where he visits the royal palace of Kupa Keep for the first time…
The First Summer
Queen Liane awaited them patiently at the portcullis leading to the castle. Her anticipation could be found in light of her beaming smile when Highest Elf King Gerald's carriage entered the courtyard. He was the first to exit the vehicle and, with reverence, he kissed her hand.
"It's an honor to see you again, King Gerald," she said with a softness befitting her looks. She curtseyed in her fluttering blue gown. "Welcome to Kupa Keep and everything within."
"I am honored," he replied, sweeping his exotic robe back to properly bow. "I saw you standing there as we made our way through the town. I hope you didn't wait so long for us to arrive."
Liane shook her head and touched her pearls. "No, I've waited far long enough to meet your family again. To be honest, I didn't think you still wanted the engagement. You were the one who doubted it out of all of us."
"True," King Gerald admitted, "but Sheila would have wanted it. She was just so happy talking about Kyle's future. The path of uniting two great kingdoms together would have been her swan song; her place in history. I'd like to imagine she was looking down at us in some tavern from Shorhalla promising to wring my neck if I backed down now."
Queen Liane laughed to avoid shedding tears again for her passed friend. "I'd like to think that too."
Queen Sheila's death had shaken not just her home kingdom of Jersey, but the rest of Zaron. It would be a long time before history no longer remembered her loud if not unorthodox methods of fostering peace. According to the customs of Jersey, to die from childbirth blessed the infant with power and strength. Sheila would have been extraordinarily proud to produce the only thing that contributed to her demise. Nothing else would have.
Despite this, young Kyle's first breath was difficult. This was a typical thing for a Jerseyan according to Sheila's last letters - the child would either become an unstoppable force of nature or a dependent hypochondriac. The first years were rough from King Gerald's written correspondence because Kyle's health fluctuated on a whim. Even now, she had heard that Kyle needed a certain cocktail of potions for his daily regimen of wellness.
The thought of Kyle becoming ill in her kingdom during his stay worried her enough to order the castle clean from top to bottom - no surface found itself with dust by the time the word came of the Drow caravan looming in the horizon.
Even today, everything had been last minute. She had even finished hiring additional alchemists and physicians this morning just to provide round-the-clock care for the summer.
Her eight year old son had been especially fussy about it. She had ordered the maids to rearrange everything in his room to impeccable order. The cost of her fussiness was enduring his complaints because he couldn't find his toys.
"Why do we have to bend over and take it from these elves?!" Eric had huffed. "This is a sign of weakness, mom!"
"Eric, what did I say about mimicking Lord Garrison at the dinner table?"
"But meeeeeeem, I don't want to marry a stupid elf!"
"You haven't even properly met him yet, sweetie."
"Yeah and I already hate his guts!" he screeched, and that was the end of the conversation before she sent him to his room without dinner. She would not sit by and let her son say such things about Sheila's son…
…in public. She sent for food up to his room an hour later, ever the coddled mother she was.
"Oh, where are my manners?" she giggled and gestured to the older men to her right. "This is Lord Garrison - Eric's tutor in the arcane arts. He's graciously offered to work as Kyle's summer tutor."
Garrison eyed the Elf King with deep-seated suspicion before bowing. He had never been too fond of immigrants - especially elvish ones. "Yes, yes. Hello, Your Majesty."
Liane continued with her obliviousness. "And the other man is Lord Mackey. He'll be Kyle's cultural adviser, though I'm not quite sure to what extent."
The big-headed man was much more amicable after he bowed. "Yes, you see there's lots of cultural differences between the Drow elves and humans, m'kay. I'll make sure Prince Kyle doesn't create a… 'faux pas', as we call it in Kupa Keep, m'kay." He air quoted for good measure. "And I'm sure Prince Kyle would be more than happy to share your own cultural differences to bridge understanding between the two kingdoms."
"Yeah, for instance, we don't eat twigs or dance naked under the moon like uncivilized monkeys," Garrison muttered under his breath. Liane shot him an exasperated look. "What?"
His smile dimmed with uncertainty leaving his son to these men, but King Gerald shook it off and introduced them to his new Captain of the Guard, Ranger Marshwalker, who would stay as Kyle's personal guard. With the ranger toddled his five year old son who, instead of introducing himself, immediately climbed up the foot rest of the carriage to talk to someone through the curtained window.
"Oh, well, that's polite," Garrison snarked. "Even the human traitors from elfland are barbaric."
"Lord Garrison," Liane warned firmly.
Ranger Marshwalker was apologetic at the lack of courtesy. "Sorry, sorry! Little Stan here wanted to follow His Majesty's son for the summer. He thinks he's the prince's bodyguard or something! I told Sharon to keep an eye on him!" He looked around for his wife. "Sharon! Hey, Shar-"
"It's all right Randy," Gerald interrupted pleasantly. "I'm glad he and Kyle get along so well. See, Kyle didn't really make much friends before the Marshwalkers moved to the kingdom and to tell you the truth, I think he's nervous. It's good that Stan's here to keep him comfortable - if you don't mind Liane?"
Liane shook her head. "Oh no, I don't mind! That just means more friends for my little Eric. He doesn't have many children his age to play with either, really. Just Lady McCormick and the Stotch boy from the stables."
Further down the courtyard, Eric peered from behind the corner of the castle wall. He had long since waited for the elves to arrive and, with Kenny and Butters in tow, they decided to scope them out from a distance before making themselves known. Eric didn't like going in blind without a plan to get out of this engagement - it wasn't his style.
If he wanted to take his betrothed down, he was going to have to learn all of his weaknesses, memorize them, and strike.
Butters wrung his hands nervously behind Eric. "S-shouldn't you go to your mother now, your highness? It looks like they're waiting a gosh long time for you."
"Shut up, Butters," Eric drawled before glancing up a nearby tree. "Kenny, do you see the target?"
In her secondhand frock, Kenny had trouble maneuvering through the tree branches without compromising the only intact dress she had in her wardrobe. She peered through the leaves and got a good visual at the carriage, but nothing inside it.
"Nope! That carriage is covered from top to bottom! But I see a boy with black hair talking to the window. He's cute!" She fluffed up her non-existent breasts through her flowery bodice with a sultry giggle.
Eric gagged and shot a look of disgust at her. "You're so gross, Kenny."
She bit her thumb at him in response.
"Is the boy with the black hair the one you have to marry?" Butters squeaked and flinched when Eric raised a hand at him.
"Were you deaf the last few months, Butters? I told you I'm getting hitched to an ugly ginger!" he screeched, lowering his hand. "But I've got a plan. I got rid of that piece of shit Scott Tenorman - getting rid of the Jew elf would be a cakewalk in comparison."
"You were like three when you beat him," Kenny pointed out with a snort. "You probably just needed to take a shit in your diaper and your magic overloaded."
"FUCK YOU, KENNY!"
Butters yelped in fear when the adults caught wind of Eric's outburst. He dodged and ran away, leaving the prince to his fate. They seemed to have heard no particular words, (or perhaps they ignored it), because King Gerald smiled pleasantly at Eric and Liane placed her hands on her hips before shushing him out of his hiding spot.
"There you are, sweety! Come and meet Kyle!" she crooned. When he hesitated out of stubbornness, his tutor took the reins.
"Get your lazy ass over here, Eric!" Lord Garrison snarled. "Or I'll make you jog for a week! God knows you need it!"
Ay! I'm not fat you son of a bitch! Eric was ready to shout back, but Liane's sharp look of warning stopped him. He pouted and shuffled over only to cringe when Liane knelt down to fix the lopsided burgundy cape around his shoulders. "Moooom!"
"I'm sorry," she chirped, not sounding apologetic at all when she brushed the nonexistent dirt and dust off of it. When she went too far trying to lick her thumb to wash his cheek, Lord Garrison rolled his eyes.
"For God's sake, your Majesty, the boy is fine."
She apologized again, unfazed by Garrison's caustic tone before pulling away. "Oh, alright," she said in excitement as she dusted off her dress. "This is so exciting, don't you think Eric? You haven't seen Kyle since his birth!"
"Whoop-de-doo," Eric breathed unpleasantly while Randy bowed at him and headed back to the carriage. "It'll be an unforgettable experience for sure, mother."
Once again, she mistook her son's sarcasm for sincerity and placed warm hands on his shoulders. Her polite smile turned genuine when Randy plucked Stan off to open the carriage door.
"Your majesties and your highness," Randy announced and swung the door wide open. "I give you High Elf Kyle of the Drow, Second Prince of Jersey."
Unable to withstand his curiosity, Butters returned to peer around the corner with Kenny still hanging on for dear life. "Oh, boy! Can you see from that angle, Kenny? What's he look like?!"
Perhaps it was the atmosphere surrounding little Eric or maybe his mother's excitement was infectious. Despite the nightmare of being engaged, the anticipation meeting his elusive fiancé made his heart pound in his chest. It was like they were waiting to unveil the hidden treasure of Zaron or drink from the Grail of Chinpoko.
A small dainty hand reached out from the darkness of the carriage, but as soon as it touched the sunlight, it retreated. A low whistle in the shadows brought the footman running so he can raise a giant umbrella overhead.
"Oh my god," Eric muttered in horror when an ugly, curly haired monstrosity helped himself off the carriage by Stan. His skin was an unhealthy milky white from lack of sun and bright freckles adorned his face. He supposed the one good thing about it was that he wasn't ginger… and that was it.
Kyle licked over his overbite and peered around through his over sized glasses. "Oh my gods, this air is so dry! It's really chafing my skin! And is this actual grass?" he experimentally toed the blades. "Oh dear, I'm allergic to grass! Do we have a potion on standby because it's really irritating my sinuses…"
There was a long pregnant silence.
"Heh, heh… haha! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Unable to hold his tongue for long, Butters' shrill laughter was the only thing heard in the courtyard save for the tweeting of birds. Once it transformed into hysterical wheezes, Eric's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.
"SHUT THE HELL UP, BUTTERS!"
That only seemed to make things worse. Kenny followed Butters' lead and nearly broke her neck falling out of the tree in laughter. Eric thought he might cry… and he almost did when he quickly darted behind his mother to avoid accepting his horrible fate.
Liane was the only one still smiling, however fixed it looked. She didn't expect Sheila's son to be, well… "Well hello, Kyle," Liane said pleasantly. She elbowed Garrison's gut hard before he considered opening his mouth. "It's wonderful to finally meet you!"
"Oh! This isn't the Kyle you're looking for," Gerald explained as Kyle pushed his glasses up his nose and stepped to the side. "This is his cousin… Lord Kyle. He's not staying for the summer - his home was on the way over so we thought we could hit two birds with one stone taking him with us."
"What a very Jewish thing to do saving time and money like that," Eric drawled under his breath and grinned when Garrison snorted at him.
Liane's eyebrows furrowed in polite bewilderment. "Isn't it confusing having two Kyles in the household?"
Gerald offered her a shrug. "Well, Sheila and her sister both liked the name. Sheila won since our Kyle came first, but Jerseyans have always been stubborn to a fault." He turned back around. "All right, come on out, son. Stop hiding!"
"I'm not hiding!" an adorable squeak echoed out of the open door. Eric peered from behind his mother to look inside. If this Kyle was as ugly as the last, he may have to consider jumping out of the tallest tower.
Stan climbed into the carriage. "Come on out, your highness!" he said brightly. "It's okay!"
Eric didn't like that his 'betrothed' seemed dependent on the hired help. Another pale hand shot out for Stan's gloved one and pulled itself out of the carriage.
This time, Liane beamed, recognizing those fiery curls that belonged to his late mother.
He didn't look as horrible as the first Kyle, but he was still a mousy little ginger with green eyes, which was now Eric's least favorite color. Small pointed ears stuck out of those frizzy locks and, with his own robes designed with nature in mind, that was enough to make Kyle seem otherworldly and truly not human.
It was then Eric realized with dawning heartbreak that this was the one he would eventually marry. Not a normal human boy or girl, but an out-of-place scheming elvish Jewrat.
Why did God hate him so much? Had he not been a good, faithful Christian boy this year?
Prince Kyle waved away the offered umbrella with mild embarrassment before he stepped onto the grass. He looked around to inhale the afternoon air and, satisfied by the scent, he glanced up at his father with expectation. Stan smiled encouragingly at him from behind.
Much to Eric's irritation, Kyle focused on everyone - except for him.
"Hello Kyle," Liane said warmly. When Sheila's eyes curiously met hers, she fought to choke back a sob. "You've grown the last time I saw you! It's an absolute pleasure to meet you! Welcome to our kingdom! Lord Mackey…"
Mackey cleared his throat and gave Eric a flat rectangular box made of mahogany and gold. "Present the prince with your dowry, your highness, m'kay?"
Eric was firmly rooted in place.
Liane nudged him forward, "…go on, sweetie."
Nodding, Gerald pulled out something wrapped in velvet from the chest Ranger Marshwalker opened and gestured for Kyle to follow Eric's example. Timidness slowly curled up both the princes' spines and they found themselves unable to move forward without their parents gently pushing them.
Garrison scoffed at the pathetic scene. "Come on! We don't have all day!"
Eric leaned back as if repelled before giving a stiff bow. "Hello, Prince Kyle. It is a pleasure to welcome you to our prosperous country."
Kyle recognized biting sarcasm immediately and flashed a warning glare at him. Reluctantly, he gave Eric an elvish curtsy. "Prince Eric… I am pleased to accept your invitation on behalf of my kingdom." It didn't take a genius to figure out how sardonic the half-elf's words were. Offended, Eric scoffed and ran back to his mother.
"Get your ass back in there and do it properly, Eric!" Garrison snarled. "For gods sake, I'd like to eat before I turn a hundred, please!"
Kenny and Butters had already inched their way over to hide behind Queen Liane, too tempted not to move closer and enjoy the tense affair.
Kyle was the first one to shove the wrapped bundle, nearly clipping Eric's nose in the process. His expression twisted, Eric shoved the box back at him. They maintained some weird standoff before Kyle gave in and curiously opened the box.
"Oh wow," said Stan in awe as Kyle pulled out a polished gold chain. Hanging on the end was a circular gold pendant with an animal's silhouette engraved on the base.
Mackey answered the confused look on his prince's face. "The stag is the Broflovski Crown's royal animal, m'kay, a clever play on the most majestic animal in the forest. You see, the Drow Elves consider the easternmost forests their domain - and therefore keep the wildlife and natural magic in balance -"
Garrison groaned. "This shit's going to drag all day, isn't it?"
If his mom was going out of her way to make such an expensive present for Kyle, surely Eric himself was in for a treat. Always excited when it came to gifts, Eric eagerly unraveled the velvet wrap and…
…worst Christmas present ever.
"It's a stick," Eric didn't even bother hiding his displeasure. "You couldn't even bother at least polishing it, could you?"
To everyone's surprise, Kyle piped up with a severe hiss, "It's a sacred branch from the World Tree of Zaron! There are people that would give their right arms for it!"
"Clearly your people would because you still use tree bark as a form of currency," Eric said simply, "but we're more civilized and advanced."
"Using jewels and gold pieces to trade for items is the most backwards thing I've ever heard from you humans!" Kyle snapped. "You can't even eat them or find a use for them! All you do is covet them because they're shiny! And you call us barbaric?" He growled through his teeth when Eric kept tossing the stick in the air like it was a toy. "Have you no respect for other cultures?!"
"Respect is earned, Kyle - can I call you Kyle?"
Kyle's glare was poisonous. "I'd rather you didn't."
"Okay, Kyle," Eric said primly. "Now really, where's my real present? I think we've all had a good laugh, but now you're just being immature."
"I'm immature?! You're an ungrateful spoiled brat!" Kyle shouted and shoved the pendant forward. "Just trade back, okay! Give me the stick!"
Eric's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You want to trade that nice piece of gold for this ugly stick?"
"Yes!"
Well that just wouldn't do. Eric hid the stick behind his back. "No, I don't think I want to trade back anymore."
"ARRRRRRG!"
Stan had to actually grab the back of Kyle's robes before he tried to launch himself at Eric. "Easy, my prince."
"Well this is going fucking peachy, don't you think?" Garrison asked sarcastically.
Gerald finally put his foot down. Taking the pendant, he clasped it around his son's neck. "It's a lovely gift, Liane, and I'm sure Kyle very much appreciates it."
"I apologize for Eric's lack of manners. Boys and their opinions, I suppose. Eric…" Liane said sternly when he stuffed the stick without thought into his belt. "Kyle is your fiancé now. Show him how Kupa Keep citizens greet their loved ones."
"Uh… no?" Eric grimaced. "You couldn't pay me all the treasure in the world to kiss that ginger!"
Kyle made a sound of disgust and tried to hide behind his father. "Screw that!
"Kyle…" he warned.
"Dad, no!"
"Son, yes," Gerald grabbed his squirming son and shoved him back into the middle. "Offer him your hand, Kyle. It's their customary greeting."
"Yeah, your highness!" Kenny's flirtatious voice muffled through her shawl, "Kiss his hand!" Butters giggled into his palm.
Stan snickered in sympathy once he noticed the color drain from Kyle's cheeks. He quickly schooled a straight face when Kyle snapped a glare at him over his shoulder.
Grinding his teeth, Eric snatched his fiancé's delicate hand and willed down the breakfast in his stomach long enough to endure kissing a ginger. Kyle's stare was downright murderous when Eric kissed his hand, turned in disgust, and pretended to vomit. His friends cackled unpleasantly.
Eric still couldn't believe he was stuck with a sickly fiancé all summer. Delicate enough to be blown away by a breeze, Eric bet that Kyle couldn't do cool things like wrestle or hunt. It would be like walking an overdressed poodle around the courtyard.
Kyle's mood plummeted to sub-zero temperatures. Eric flinched in alarm when the delicate ginger bared his teeth, held up his fists to him, and all imaginings of a wimpy fiancé were dashed out the window. Strike that - he was sure the next time he would try to kiss Kyle, he'd end up with a black eye.
And that was fine. He would rather go one-on-one with a gorgon before he was forced to put his lips on the ginger again.
"That doesn't seem sanitary at all," the other Kyle quipped before asking for a hand sanitizer, "but if you insist…"
Eric blanched in horror. He looked to his mother, beseeching for mercy, but Liane smiled and urged him to do the same to Lord Kyle.
"Yeah," Prince Kyle breathed, his green eyes glittering with cold amusement. It strangely thrilled and angered Eric. "I think it's only fair don't you think, Stan?"
Stan snickered.
By the end of the introductions Eric was sure Kenny had died from an overdose of laughter.