A Spell on the King

At first glance, the great kingdom of Rohant seemed abandoned, with its empty fortress and cobweb-covered Golden Hall. But those in the know were aware who lived there now, or rather, what lived there… ghosts and spooks. With Halloween looming around the corner, all the ghouls in the kingdom, now called Rohaunt, were preparing for their favorite time of the year. They loved to frighten people. On this special night, they cast an aura of impending doom over the land of men.

Children were sent scary (but not too scary) dreams in which they were being trammeled by giant marshmallow nets. Men were sent dreams of spookier images, of being throttled by skeletal hands, and of their bones gradually corroding into dust.

The ghosts lived for the fun of Halloween, when they could give the people a good scare, but their high-spirits would be constrained if they actually hurt anyone. Why bother harming anyone when they could have far more fun scaring them?

Grimy Ghost-tongue had chronically been nothing but trouble. He was a slimy little upstart who had a highhanded air about him. Despite all the velvets and furs he wore, he only managed to look creepy. Grimy had worked his way into the favor of King Spookaden by concealing his vitriolic and violent nature beneath many saccharine words. In Grimy’s opinion, Halloween was too placid for his liking. His hidden desire was to preempt the mild spooking and scaring on Halloween and replace it with cruel and brutal terrorizing.

Grimy’s goal was to control the king and rule the kingdom. Using his cloying manner, he gained the king’s trust and put a spell on him. Poor Spookaden was no longer coherent. The inveterate old ruler lost touch with reality, and no longer knew what was happening around him. Grimy grew bolder and bolder, and soon the spooks of Rohaunt were forced to live under his peremptory rule.

Grimy’s dream was so close, so near! This Halloween would mark the dawning of a new age, one of violence and cruelty, one not hampered by the strictures of kindness and compassion. There was only one impediment to Grimy’s plan.

“I have to get rid of that dratted Eoween, the king’s niece. She’s next in line for Rohaunt’s throne, and if Spookaden dies, then the kingdom will go to her and all my work will have gone to waste! I must find a way to dispose of her.”

Eoween, the beautiful and spirited niece of the king, furiously paced through the Ghoul-den Hall. Once again, she had tried to communicate with her stricken uncle, but to no avail. His thoughts were so disjointed that he could barely speak.

“Someone must do something! If we continue to go on like this, the kingdom will fall to pieces! Someone must save Rohaunt and my beloved uncle from this horrible ghost! Everyone is too afraid of Grimy to retaliate against him. All will be lost! Our only chance lies in finding the Wizard, Dread-dalf! Only he can break the spell!”

Eoween’s long blonde hair was tangled from pushing into the depths of Freaky Forest. She paused to catch her breath. Where was the Wizard? He must be here somewhere. He just had to be!

Suddenly, a flash lit up the darkened forest, and a tall, impressive spook materialized before her. He was dressed in the brightest ghostly garments she had ever seen. It was Dread-dalf!

“Oh, great wizard,” Eoween cried, “Rohaunt needs your help! Grimy Ghost-tongue has put a spell on my uncle and now I can’t talk to him and-” she was silenced by the wizard’s hand.

“I already know,” he said. “You do not need to induce me to come to your aid. Rohaunt has always helped me, so I shall help them. We must prevent an insurgency, or the kingdom could fall apart. I will take matters into my own hands. Now, we must get back as soon as possible. We’ll need horses.”

Eoween gasped aloud as two phantom horses appeared out of nowhere. She hopped on one and spurred it forward, on to Rohaunt, on to victory.

In the Ghould-den Hall of Rohaunt, Grimy was about to address all the assembled ghosts. He was overjoyed at the sudden disappearance of Eoween yesterday. The brat was gone! Now he was going to tell all the spooks how to carry out his vitriolic plans for Halloween the next day. This was going to be great fun! With Eoween out of the way, Grimy was sure there could be no backlash against his evil power. He stepped outside to face the ghosts.

“Spooks of Rohaunt, I-”

His speech was cut short by a strong blow from Dread-dalf’s magic staff. Grimy was sent sprawling on the floor, and Eoween immediately flung herself down on him, determined to hold him with all her strength. Dread-dalf rushed to the king, sizing up the nuances of this evil spell. With all the concentration of his powers, he pointed his magic staff at King Spookaden’s heart, muttered a few magic words, and then, the room filled with a golden glow. Spookaden stirred, staring at Grimy.

“Finally, I ‘m free of that curse you placed upon me. Grimy Ghost-tongue, you are forever banished from the kingdom of Rohaunt. I command you to leave now!”

Grimy dashed for the door at a breakneck pace, fearing further retaliation, and was never seen in Rohaunt again. As for Eoween, the entire kingdom was grateful to her for returning the old status quo and saving them from Grimy. King Spookaden and his dear old friend, Dread-dalf, enjoyed a marvelous reunion and together, celebrated the most spooktacular Halloween ever.