Towering columns of dead trees smothered out the sun, casting shadows across the area that stretched out, as if alive. The forest floor was a labyrinth of vines and rocky pitfalls, every potential danger starving for fresh blood. Stagnant puddles gathered in the creases of earth, their murky surface pungent with bacteria. Every foothold was treacherous, every movement costly.

It was meant to intimidate.

The woods were eerily hushed, with no signs of animal life for miles. Occasionally a branch would creek or noxious fumes would bubble up from the puddles, but otherwise there existed an ominous silence which weighed down on the lone soul traveling through the woods.

The forest was quiet, but he was not alone.

In the center of the thorns, a prince walked. His lavish garb was damp with perspiration, his skin torn back in some places and smeared with grime. He had been journeying for weeks, resting only to eat and sleep. Determination fed him adrenaline while his limbs burned from exertion, and stubborn pride kept him from turning back.

Tripping over a rotting log, he lifted one mud-caked boot to step over it. The log caved halfway, and he stumbled forward into more brambles. Cursing under his breath, he trudged forward through the cloying blackness around him.

It was not required that he be here, mucking through slimy branches that clawed at his every move; He did it for his people.

The kingdom of Elysian was by no means perfect. Plagued by wars, famine and disease, his soon-to-be kingdom was unraveling. Compounding his concern, his people were also falling victim to curses of ill fortune. Rumor had led him to this evil place, the dark heart of the sorceress' lair.

He had vowed to correct these misdeeds, be it with words or the blade at his side.

The clinking of metal shattered the silence. Raising his head, he wiped inky bangs from midnight eyes.

Directly ahead there stood a small cabin.

Thick bands of unrecognizable vines stretched up the side of the cottage, the plant's trichomes buried to the hilt in the side of the building. The walls were crumbling around the dilapidated edifice, and the slant of the roof left him with the impression that the entire structure could collapse at any moment. A rickety door was the only opening to the outside world, although the faint glow beneath it alerted him to the presence of light within. As he approached, he noticed a thick vapor seeping out from under the door.

He opened the door, and stepped inside.

Immediately he recoiled from the sting of incense that flooded his nostrils. Opening his eyes, he squinted to see the dark interior of the cabin.

Seated before him was a woman, almost entirely buried in cascading waves of cloth. A majority of her ensemble was black, but beneath her cloak he noticed varying shades of other colors. Her posture was regal despite the weight of the fabric, and he noticed a flicker of silver being swept beneath long sleeves.

Fanciful veils hid her face from view; only her eyes were visible through a rip in the cloth. A mirage of colors in the shifting smoke, their luminescence shone as clear as a summer sky beneath long lashes. Metallic flecks shone in their depths, reflections from the many amulets and mirrors that occupied most of the room.

A quaint wooden table was all that separated them.

It was littered with strange cards, a multitude of glass bottles filled with shimmering liquids, and crystal shards which lurked at the edge of the table. Fabric rustled as she swept the cards back into a pile, before pushing a blank card forward, letting it rest before him.

Gold script began to dance across the card, spelling out the word "Name."

"Witch," he hissed, unsheathing his sword and pressing it through layers of cloth to brush against her neck. One of the bottles on the table tipped over at his movement, spilling green ooze across the card. He was beyond caring, and she did not seem surprised in the slightest. "Break the curses which you have cast upon my people, or I will end your wretched life."

Her eyes gave nothing away, still locked with his. "Please," her voice was soft as it snaked around him, coiling like the wisps of incense that perfumed the room. "It is rude not to introduce one's self."

His eyes narrowed. "I am Prince Endymion, and I have come to liberate my lands from your wicked sorcery." More cursive letters alighted on the card, writing a distinct "Endymion." His grip on his sword tightened.

"Mm…" she swept the card back, shaking it in the air to remove some of the goo that clung to its surface. Unfazed by the blade at her neck, she finally broke the stare she had leveled on him and lowered her eyes to the card. "Well Endymion, I may be able to help you." Her hands were not visible from beneath the draping sleeves she wore, but the trembling fabric gave him the impression that she was moving them.

A glow began to stir from within the fabric, brightening until his vision of her was all but gone. Snarling his anger at her trickery, he pushed his sword closer in an attempt to kill her.

When the blinding light faded, he saw an unfamiliar forest surrounding him and a string of houses visible at the tree line. He found himself alone, without his sword or armor, and without his royal tunic.

He also found himself without his memories.

AN: New piece. Not sure if I want to continue it (it is unfinished, this is all I have written for it so far), but I thought it would be fun to at least attempt writing something during NanoWriMo. Fluff(aka waff or sap) is not my usual thing, but my roomie luuurves it so I'm going to try it on for size. Major props to Sami and Wyndham for editing/beta-ing; I love you both.