A Jimbleweed.
A small, ball-like knot of fur. It covers itself in a thick mucus and rolls around in the dirt, collecting small creatures in its furry mane, then eats them to survive.
An invasive species originally found in the Orcish continents, where the climate is milder and helps them maintain their thick mucus coating on their fur.
It is said the orcs used to wear their coats as furry hats, but the elves have not only decided they were tacky, but that no matter how much presdigitation one used on their fur, the rancid smell they emitted would not be expelled.
A somewhat pathetic creature, by all accounts. Its namesake has been used as an insult for those who are having a bad hair day.
Although most elves have never seen a Jimbleweed, this is indeed a devious insult.
Excerpt from Kreatures of Keceo, A Brilliant Bestiary.
------------------
The day of the Ela Lunaris festival had arrived. Rodrick stood guard at Gwyn's room at the Gilded Towers.
Elise and Artero both eagerly waited close by to catch a glimpse, or possibly be asked out by the Chosen One.
"We don't have much time left," Artero whispered to Elise.
"I know! The festival starts in a couple of hours, and she hasn't asked me out yet," Elise whispered back.
"Asked you out yet? She is definitely going to ask me out!" Artero whispered, which came out more like a shout.
Large metal footsteps approached the two, who were too busy arguing to notice.
"What do you two think you're doing?" Rodrick asked in an accusatory tone.
Artero tried to seem casual.
"Rodrick! H-hey!"
"Hello, Young Master," Rodrick said, not buying his antics.
"Soooooo I—"
Elise bore her fist into Artero's ribs.
"We," Artero said weakly, rubbing his side. "Wanted to see Gwynevere."
"No can do," Rodrick said, crossing his arms.
"And why not? Are you holding her hostage?" Elise accused.
"No, no. She asked me to keep you two from getting in her room, so that's what I am doing," he said.
"Keep us from—" Elise looked offended. "Why would she ever do that?"
Rodrick shrugged.
"Said something about a surprise."
The two royals looked at one another, pondering what to do next.
~She can't keep us waiting forever,~ Elise said to Artero via link.
~That's true, but we have to get ready at some point,~ Artero responded.
"I guess we'll… just wait here then!"
Elise leaned up against the wall beside Rodrick, and Artero did the same, but the young Prince's expression was much more worried than that of the Princess.
~
"How do I look?" Gwynevere asked a servant.
"You look stunning, dear," The servant responded.
Their inflection didn't ease any of Gwyn's anxiety. She adjusted her braided hair and new gold-framed glasses.
"I don't know about this look."
Gwyn inspected the dress. She hadn't worn something like this before, but she knew they looked pretty on other women, so there was a chance it could look nice on her. Although the cape was a bit of a bother.
"Don't overthink it. I doubt anyone will be able to recognize you at a glance."
The servant held out a glass of water to Gwynevere.
The Chosen One took a sip of the water with a shaky hand before placing the glass on a nearby table.
"Here goes nothing."
Gwyn's plan had succeeded. The Royals had assumed she was in her room, but she wasn't. She cautiously stepped out of the Kosmairian Estate and into the daylight.
~
"She's been in there for three hours now," Artero said, weakly looking at the door, his head pushed up against the golden bricks of the wall.
"When will she be ready, Rodrick?" Elise asked, desperation gnawing at every word.
Rodrick just stood, unmoving, as he usually did when standing guard.
"She told me not to let you into her room at any cost."
Elise and Artero just looked at one another with immense disappointment.
~Screw this. We should force our way in,~ Elise suggested via the link.
His face showed a worried expression.
~What?! No, no. We can't do that,~ Artero pleaded.
~Why not? I'm sure we both can take Rodrick,~ Elise said desperately.
Artero sighed in his head.
Elise glared at his blatant disapproval.
~Have your abilities as a Susurrus come to fruition yet?~ Artero asked, side-eyeing Rodrick.
~Of course they have! Mostly...~
~Then let's try to knock him out, say he was tired, then get Gwyn and go to the festival, it starts any—~ The booming of fireworks interrupted his mental link. ~It's already starting!~
Both Royals started to sweat. Neither of them was dressed for the festival, and Gwyn was still in her room, or so they assumed.
~Alright, I'll cast a sleeping spell, and if all fails, you try to bind him. Got it?~
~Understood.~ They finished their mental link.
Elise leaned up off the wall and said aloud.
"Well, I've got to get dressed."
She casually strolled away, but when she was mentally finished with her spell cast, she turned and pointed her dagger at Rodrick. A silent sleeping spell hurled towards him... which immediately pinged off his armor.
He lowered his visor.
"Oh, did you just… silently cast a spell at me?" Rodrick somehow stood even taller. Placing a hand on his sword. "You think a piddly little Susurrus spell can break this armor's protection?"
He pounded his fist on the red plate mail.
"Binding wind, wallowing silence,
Frost the limbs, with chains that bind him!"
Artero's voice boomed as he cast a two-line, four-rhyme poem.
An icy chain of magical energy left Artero's wand like the cracking of a whip. They immediately wrapped around Rodrick's arm, and the frost slowly spread across the surface, turning the armor a faint purple color.
"Young Master?!" Rodrick exclaimed, betrayal in his voice. His arm was frozen on the hilt of his sword.
The light blue icy chains curled around his body, down his chest plate and around his legs. Rodrick toppled over, crumbling some of the marbled flooring beneath his weight.
"Young Master, release me this instant!" Rodrick shouted; his voice muffled by his visor.
The click of Elise's heels approached him as she knelt down, raising his visor. A dagger was about two inches from his face.
"Sorry, Rodrick, but we've got a date to get to."
She silently cast "sleep surrender" directly to Rodrick's temple.
His eyes fluttered.
"I'll get you… for this…"
He began to snore loudly on the ground.
Artero released his spell on him.
"Good work," he said, facing Elise.
"Not so bad yourself. Didn't know the Kosmairian armor was that strong."
Artero not-so humbly bragged.
"You need immense magical power in order to override the protective barrier of the Kosmairian armor."
Elise let out a soft chuckle.
"Are you flexing right now?"
"Me?" Artero lowered his arm. "No… you're flexing!" His face flushed red. "Let's just get Gwyn out of here."
"Whatever you say."
Elise smiled at him, and he rolled his eyes, wondering why she must always tease him like this.
The two Royals approached the door, expecting it to be locked, but when Artero turned the knob, it opened immediately.
"Why isn't it locked?" Artero asked under his breath.
They both looked inside.
No one was inside except for a bonnet that lay neatly folded on Gwyn's bed.
Artero fell to his knees, clutching the fabric.
"They turned Gwyn into a bonnet! Nooooo!"
Elise ripped the fabric from his hands.
"No, you idiot. She tricked us! She's already—"
~
Gwyn walked alone in the crowded streets of Capital City. People were dressed in all sorts of costumes, almost like Halloween back on Earth. Elves seemed to be almost cosplaying their favorite Chosen Ones. She saw a young boy wearing a mantled cloak and a fur chest plate, with painted scars over his eyes.
Is that supposed to represent the… twenty-third, right? The White Lion? Or was it a tiger...
Almost as if to confirm her suspicion.
"Mommy, do I look rad?" The Child asked, twirling his cloak.
"The raddest, dear."
His mom smiled, her eyes lifted, and she looked directly at Gwyn, but instead of a hateful stare, a look of wonderment crossed her face.
People stopped to look at Gwyn as she passed by, and a handful commented on her appearance.
"Gods… is that the newest Chosen One? She looks—"
The words seemed to keep catching in their throat.
Gwyn just smiled politely at everyone as she weaved through the crowds, most even willingly stepping out of the way so she could pass them easily.
Except for one.
She bumped into a tall figure with a gaunt face and long hair. It took Gwyn a moment to realize who it was.
"A-Archimedes!"
Gwyn stuttered out, bowing deeply.
"Oh, number… twenty-five."
A look of genuine surprise crossed Archimedes' face.
"W-what are you doing here?"
Is it obvious how nervous I am?
He let out a soft laugh.
"Being a crotchety old man doesn't stop me from having fun every now and again."
His face was… pleasant, to Gwyn's surprise.
"Right..."
"Where is your date? I assume you went with one of the Royals. Or both, if the rumors are true. Greedy child."
"Not a child, and they are preoccupied, at the moment. Who told you about us?"
"The newest Chosen One spending time with not one but two royal families? That is indeed some hot gossip," Archimedes said.
"Then... yes, I plan on going with both, actually… just waiting for them to arrive," Gwyn said less confidently than she intended.
He held out a hand.
"I've been stood up before, Young One," Archimedes said. "You can always go with me, if you wish."
"I think I'll have to kindly reject your offer," Gwyn said, trying not to make a displeased face.
"Fair enough," he said, looking wistfully in the distance. "You know my daughter, Anastasia, yes? She has been working tirelessly lately. Do you have any idea why?"
"I wouldn't have a clue, sorry."
"She is always up to something, it seems," he said humorously.
Gwyn stood beside him silently for a moment. Archimedes seemed to give pleasant nods to those who passed him by.
"Why aren't you like... being mean to me?" Gwyn asked.
"Can I ask you something, Chosen One?"
He said her title sarcastically, which Gwyn was familiar with.
"Sure, why not?"
"When you crush an insect. Is there any hostility towards it? Do you feel any particularly strong emotions?"
Gwyn thought for a moment and then said:
"Only when they're cute..."
This caused Archimedes to go silent. He seemed to stare blankly.
Gwyn wondered if she had said something particularly insulting.
He rubbed his eyes, and what can almost be considered a smile reached his lips.
"I suppose bugs can be cute, too. Remember. Five years, Chosen One." He turned to walk away but then looked back. "Actually. Four years and four seasons, but who's counting?"