"Your majesty, we need..." The Wise Old Elf kneels on his right knee infront of the king and queen of the Little Kingdom. "We desperately need your help."
"What do you elves possibily need? Elves do everything on their own and hate magic."
"Your majesty, the Great Elf Tree is experiencing some rotting -"
"You live in a tree, what do you expect." King Thistle sips his coffee, not looking at the Wise Old Elf.
"The rotting is unnatural. There is some magical -"
"You are over reacting. The rotting is just a new form, you should be happy you made a new discovery."
"Your majesty -"
"Thats enough, leave my throne room and find a new tree to live in."