The Swamp King's Curse

The fateful meeting of a trespasser and a monster in the deep.

Recap: Our narrator is a young maiden, unable to say her own name and cursed to wander the fairy woods until the spell on her is broken. As she traverses the forest trying to stay the night at a nearby village, she finds she has wandered into unknown territory.

I never should have tried to take a shortcut.

I knew the way to the nearest village, but the sun was going down — and who knows what dangers awaited me in the darkness of the woods?

So as the last embers of daylight faded, I took the wilder path. Just when I thought I was clear of the trees, the land sank down and swallowed my foot in mud.

That’s when I heard the voice behind me: “‘Ware, maiden, for you’ve just entered the territory of the Swamp King.”

I turned to see a fox sitting there, calm as the breeze, his gleaming eyes staring into mine. No one else was around.

“Who…?” I began.

“Who was speaking to you?” said the fox. “I think it’s obvious.”

“Sorry… I’ve never met a talking fox,” I said.

“Haven’t traveled much, I see,” the fox replied, licking its paw. “I wouldn’t go that way if I were you.”

I pulled my foot out of the muck. From here, the once-solid ground devolved into a mossy swampland. The smell hit me suddenly, a sickening blend of gas and mildew, as insects buzzed impatiently around me.

But in the distance, I could see the outline of thatched roofs and the glistening light of torches from the next village.

“Surely the, uh, Swamp King wouldn’t mind if I just go through on the edges,” I said.

The fox tilted its head. “Have you been anywhere at all?” he said. “You’ll get a curse put upon you.”

I looked at the fox for a moment. “Did he put a curse on you?”

The fox squirmed a little. “I couldn’t say,” he finally replied.

It was true, then. I wondered if I might be able to help this fox like I wanted to be helped. But there was no time to waste.

Then again, there was the threat of being turned into a talking animal.

“I could talk to the Swamp King,” I said. “I can tell him that I mean no harm.”

“The Swamp King doesn’t listen to anyone,” said the fox. “He only speaks in curses. They say he used to curse so much that eventually his curses rebounded on him, and he’s unable to speak a kind word to anyone. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t drag you down into the depths with him.”

“He lives in the water?”

The fox nodded. I stared into the swamp, looking for signs of life.

Then I saw it. At first I thought it was a crocodile, slinking silently through the mossy glade, but the shape of the head looked human… and also part monster.

The head turned and looked at me, dark eyes widening.

It started moving in my direction.

“Back up,” said the fox.

I stumbled backward on the slippery bank, unable to gain my feet in the sludge. The Swamp King was a fast swimmer. He arrived swiftly and lurched out of the water, a gangly, humpbacked creature clothed in mud, face like a gargoyle.

He grabbed my feet to pull me in; but a sudden burst of energy, like a clap of thunder, sent him sprawling back into the water.

The protection spell on the key around my neck did still work.

“Curse you!” cried the Swamp King. “Trespasses on my land! Brings evil magic! Let the wind always howl at your back, let your fears surround you wherever you walk! Let your footsteps find every root and rift in the path! Curse you!”

I laid back on my elbows, alight with shock and terror.

“You horrible creature!” I cried. “How dare you put your hands on me! You deserve a swamp for a prison!”

But I felt pain deep inside when I said it. The Swamp King crumpled, his ugly face twisting into a pitiful frown that struck me as unspeakably sad.

Tears burned in my eyes. I glanced at the fox, who was cowering behind a tree.

“No,” I said in a quiet voice. “No, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The Swamp King waded down into the dark water until only his eyes could be seen.

“Curses for curses, in an unbroken cycle,” I said. “How can this be good for anyone?” I hesitated. “I know you don’t deserve a blessing. But neither do I.”

The Swamp King waited, blinking at me.

I looked back at the fox, who was peering out from the tree attentively. What a sight we were, all three cursed and alone.

“Swamp King,” I said, sitting up, “I bless you. May your days be peaceful and your swimming pleasant. May you make new friends. May your kingdom be a place where the lonely take heart and restore their strength. Blessings be upon you.”

The Swamp King rose up, his muddy shoulders and chest visible as he leaned forward in the vanishing light. He looked like he was trying to say something.

Finally, he reached out and gently touched my foot. “Forgive,” he stammered. “Forgive… me. Bless… to you also.”

I stood to my feet. The remnants of the sun smoldered in the sky. The fox trotted up next to me.

“Swamp King, I need a way through the swamp,” I said. “I must get to the next village. Will you help me?”

The Swamp King snapped his fingers, and a tongue of fire appeared between them. He moved toward small patches of land, lighting calla lilies like candles, illuminating the way through the swamp.

The fox came with me, and we reached the village by the time darkness fell.

I was buoyed by the spirit of the Swamp King’s blessing. It made the magic in my blood feel a little less irritating. I stayed the night at an inn, but by the morning, I was so nauseous from the wandering spell that I was dying to leave.

That’s when the fox and I heard the sound of someone singing in the trees.