The Lovers, Reversed

A bite-sized story written under the pressure of a one week time limit and 2,000-word maximum for a cozy fantasy writing contest. Short, sweet, and just a little offbeat. Enjoy!

Effie Willowmere shuffles her weathered tarot deck under the watchful gaze of her raven, Nox. The bird’s glossy black eyes catch the flickering lantern light as he fluffs his feathers. 

Another day, another lonely villager coming to her searching for romance in a kingdom that seems to have forgotten how to feel.

She draws the final card. The Lovers, reversed. As always.

Her lips press into a thin line as she glances at the downcast woman before her. "It’s not hopeless," she says, softening her voice. "Reversed cards can mean obstacles, sure, but don’t lose faith! The heart is resilient."

The woman nods, drops a handful of coins on the table, and leaves with a woeful smile. 

The smell of spilled ale and cured meats permeates the air. The storage closet at the back of the local tavern has served as Effie’s workplace for years. 

She leans back in her chair and sighs, but her moment of reflection is interrupted by a bang! as the door bursts open and slams shut. Cobwebbed bottles rattle on the shelves behind her as a man stumbles in, chest heaving, white shirt torn and muddy.

"Just… act natural," he rasps, glancing behind him before ducking under the purple velvet cloth covering her card table. 

Effie raises a brow. “Care to explain—”

"Shh! They’re right behind me," he whispers.

The door swings open again, and a royal guard leans one arm on the door frame, his dark uniform embroidered with King Damien’s crest.

Effie shuffles her cards, unbothered. “Can I help you?”

"Seen anyone… unusual lately?" His eyes sweep the cramped space.

Effie tilts her head innocently. "You’ll have to be more specific."

"Don’t get smart with me, girl,” he barks. "We’re looking for a dangerous rebel. Tall. Dark hair. Scarred face. He’s a traitor to the crown."

Effie shrugs. "No one here but me and my bird, I’m afraid.” Nox lets out a croak. “Slow day actually… would you like a reading?"

 The guard lingers for a moment, and Effie holds her breath. Seemingly satisfied, he huffs, then leaves.

The man crawls out from under the table. "Thanks for that," he says, brushing off the front of his pants.

"You owe me an explanation," Effie says sharply. "Who are you? And why are the king’s men after you?"

"I’m Ash," he says, voice low. "And let’s just say I don’t support ‘King’ Damien’s rule."

"That makes two of us," she mutters, studying him. He has chiseled, handsome features, and an air of trouble… She notes that his jaw is marred by a long white scar.

His attention shifts to her cards, and he gestures to the sign on the wall. "So, Ophelia The Oracle… Are you really a psychic?"

She nods, motioning to the empty chair. "You can call me Effie. Sit down… Let’s see what secrets you’re hiding."

Ash hesitates but takes the seat. Effie shuffles, the cards sliding smoothly under her hands, then begins to lay them out, one by one.

The Fool. Effie explains, "A new journey. The road ahead is uncertain—but the first step has to be taken."

Ash gives her a slight, cynical smile. "You got me there."

The Six of Cups. "The past. Something… or someone… you’re holding onto."

The Eight of Swords. Effie doesn’t speak immediately. Her eyes narrow at the image, a figure bound and blindfolded, surrounded by swords. "Someone close to you is feeling trapped. Caged." She looks at Ash, frowning. 

The Empress. “There’s a warm, maternal energy coming through…

Ash’s brow creases, but he says nothing.

The King of Swords, reversed. Effie’s lips thin. "Someone cruel, manipulative… An authority figure… There’s abuse of power."

Ash shifts in his chair, his jaw tightening, but he still doesn’t speak.

The final card: The Tower. Effie stares at it, her chest tightening. "Destruction," she says somberly. "Chaos. But also… the chance for renewal. A chance to rebuild."

The weight of the reading hangs in the air.

Effie looks up at Ash, her pulse quickening. "You’re not just any rebel… are you?"

Ash’s expression hardens. "The woman in the cards… that’s my mother… the rightful ruler of this kingdom, Queen Vivienne Ironwood."

Effie’s pulse races, processing this news. “So if Queen Vivienne is your mother, that makes you—”

Ash lowers his head, “Prince Ashland Ironwood. Damien used dark magic to steal the throne. He imprisoned her, and cast a curse so everyone would forget about her… her kindness and benevolence. Instead, they’d blindly submit to his tyrannical rule.” He sighs, “I escaped with nothing but this scar, but I was an orphan, no one knew who I was, or where I came from… But one day, I remembered. The spell wore off, but I have no idea how…”

Effie’s heart jumps to her throat. "If that’s true, why haven’t you done something to stop him?"

"Because I haven’t been able to figure out how to break the spell on my own," Ash says bitterly. "I’ve been searching for a cure for years, but all I know for sure is that the curse strengthens with time, and after midnight on the night of this Winter Solstice, it’ll become permanent. No one will remember her—or the truth. I’m running out of time…" He looks up, desperation etched across his face. "You believe me, don’t you?"

Effie sets down her cards, her mind racing. "I believe you. And I might actually know someone who can help."

***

The bells on the door handle jingle as Effie and Ash enter Zephyr’s cluttered alchemy shop. 

“Just a minute!” he calls from the back, then resumes humming to himself as he places a stopper in a bottle filled with a bubbly green concoction.

"Effie, my love!" he exclaims, his brows raising when he notices Ash. "And who’s your handsome friend?" 

"I’m Ash," he extends his hand to the alchemist in greeting.

"He’s a prince," Effie adds nonchalantly. 

Zephyr blinks. "You’re joking."

"I wish," Ash mutters.

Effie explains quickly—Ash’s mother, the spell, and the solstice deadline. Zephyr’s expression darkens.

"I always knew Damien was corrupt, but this…" He paces for a moment, then points to a workbench covered in half-filled vials. "I’ve been working on something—a truth serum… It’s not perfect yet, and so far, the effects are only temporary."

"We can work with temporary," Ash says.

Zephyr nods grimly. Winter Solstice is just days away. Effie, Ash, and Zephyr waste no time, working well into the night testing and perfecting the serum.

***

Effie convinces the barkeep to let her set up her card table near the crackling hearthfire of the bustling tavern, instead of her usual closet. She reads cards for the townspeople as Zephyr doles out cups of mulled wine from a cauldron laced with the truth serum.

It begins subtly. Villagers pause mid-sentence, their expressions changing. An old man near the fire blinks, tears welling in his eyes.

A few others begin murmuring, fragments of lost memories surfacing. Effie’s heart races as she sees the wine drinkers’ faces light up with clarity, one by one. They mingle together, laughter and joy radiating from them as the fog is briefly lifted.

Ash appears beside Effie, his face mostly hidden behind a hooded cloak. "It’s working…" he says, leaning in close. "They’re remembering."

Before Effie can respond, a shout rings out.

"That’s him!" A man points directly at Ash. "The traitor!"

Guards swarm, and chaos erupts. Ash attempts to flee, but he is quickly overwhelmed. 

"Ash!" Effie cries as the guards drag him away. She turns to her friend, "We can’t just let them take him!"

Zephyr’s jaw tightens, and he places his hand on Effie’s shoulder, as if to warn her not to make a scene. "We’re going to need a lot more of the serum—and a new plan."

Effie and Zephyr spend a sleepless night brewing more of the truth serum with an experimental higher dosage. Nox hops along the windowsill restlessly while they work, his croaks anxious and urgent. This will be their last shot, they have to make it count.

***

When dawn breaks, Effie sets out for King Damien’s castle. Nox flies ahead, his sharp cries guiding her path.

Effie limps up to the dungeon guards, hunched and clutching her side as if injured. They rush to her aid, and once they’re close enough, she blows a puff of shimmery purple powder in their faces. 

Zephyr’s ‘Daze Dust’ causes them to become confused and woozy, just long enough for Effie to grab the key ring and slip past them.

Inside the dungeon, Ash sits slumped in a cell, blood dripping from a fresh cut above his brow. He looks up warily as the door creaks open.

"You came," he whispers hoarsely.

"Of course," Effie says, kneeling beside him. She reaches through the bars of the cell, brushing his cheek with her hand, then fumbles to find the key that fits the lock on the cell door. 

After a few tense moments, the lock clicks open, and they slip deeper into the castle to find the tower where Queen Vivienne is being held. Ash sneaks up on the guard outside the tower entrance and takes him down silently.

They climb the steep stone staircase to find the queen seated by the lone keyhole window, her once-bright eyes dull and pained. But when Ash kneels before her, her face lights up with recognition.

"Ashland," she whispers, her voice frail but warm. "I don’t have much time…"

Suddenly, a furious roar echoes behind them.

"TRAITORS!” The evil king storms into the room, a dark energy pulsing around him. 

Effie steps forward, trembling but determined. "If anyone is a traitor here, it’s you!"

The king lets out a maniacal cackle, “Foolish girl… You’re too late—the kingdom belongs to me!”

***

Back in Sablehollow, the Winter Solstice Festival is in full swing. Zephyr hands out mugs of his spiced and spiked ‘Mulled Memories’ wine to the crowd as fast as he can manage.

As more and more villagers sip their drinks, the spell begins to unravel—a wave of clarity sweeping through the kingdom.

***

The king unsheaths his sword and moves to strike Ash, but as he is preparing to swing, he falters—suddenly overcome with some invisible weakness. “What is this? What’s happening?”

“The people of Sablehollow are waking up from the nightmare you created, Damien.” Ash shoves him to the ground, and Effie quickly binds his hands and feet.

“They’re remembering their queen, and how it feels to live and love freely under her reign.” Effie glances at Ash, who has returned to his mother’s side.

“We need to hurry,” he says, looking out the window at the sun beginning to set in the distance. “To break the spell completely, the people actually need to see that their true queen lives… before midnight,” Ash adds nervously.

Nox croaks loudly outside, then leads Effie, Ash, and Vivienne to the king’s stable. They mount horses, then race against the clock back to the village.

***

The twilight sky is a striking blend of orange and violet when they arrive at the solstice festival. Vivienne and Ash interrupt the band playing, and take the stage to address their people for the first time in many years.

The crowd erupts into cheers and embraces their queen and prince with open arms. The festival turns into a celebration of liberation, and the promise of a new beginning. 

Effie stands near the roaring bonfire, watching as villagers hug, laugh, and reconnect… this time, for good.

Ash joins her, his presence grounding her in the midst of the merriment.

"You did this," he says softly.

"We did," she corrects, smiling.

He takes her hand, his touch gentle but steady. "Thank you. For believing me."

Effie meets his gaze, the walls she’s built around her heart slowly crumbling. "Maybe it isn’t such a foolish thing, to believe…"

The first fluffy snowflakes of winter begin to fall around them, and for the first time in a long time, she lets herself hope.