In which our heroes are introduced and not enough useful information about the time and place of the story is revealed.

“Lubin!” A sharp voice called, breaking the silence that had dominance over the majority of the lush forest. The only noises other than those made by the two traveling warlocks were the occasional caw of a raven or the strange screeching of a deer.

“What is it now, Ephraim?” Came the gruff response.

“I think my kazoo is lost in the Nether Realm.”

The exasperated sigh was evidence that this had happened many times before.

“Good,” Lubin said. “Of all the instruments you carry around in that godforsaken bottomless bag of yours, that one was the most useless and irritating.”

The younger boy widened his steel blue eyes indignantly. “On the contrary, brother! Although I won’t argue that it sounds like a dying animal, it’s the quickest and easiest to play!”

“Yes,” Lubin said, running a hand through his dark hair. “but all you can summon with it is a little buggy looking thing with far too many eyes and legs. It’s gross.”

“And all you can do is squirt water at people. Unless we go up against someone allergic to water, you’re useless.” Ephraim stated while awkwardly maneuvering himself around the thickly wooded terrain that surrounded them.

“I beg to differ. I could drown them without lifting a finger.”

“But what if there isn’t any water where we are?”

“Then I’d…” The brunet trailed off, unable to think of a compelling argument

“You’d what?” Ephraim smirked. He knew he’d won.

Defeated, Lubin reached over and swept Ephraim’s mop of snow white into his eyes.

“I guess then I’d be useless, but don’t get all high and mighty because of it. You still have to play a whole sonata before you can summon any useful creature.”

“You probably don't even know what a sonata is. And don't make fun of my monsters! I raised half of them myself.”

Lubin chuckled. “How can you tell me not to make fun of them when you yourself call them monsters?”

“That’s not making fun of them, that’s a fact. Besides,” he admitted. “I don’t really know what else to call them. There’s something in there called Shub-Niggurath who’s literally just a black cloud with tentacles, goat legs, and a bunch of mouths that are always drooling sludge that may or may not have highly corrosive properties. She’s one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever seen.”

“Did you raise her?”

“No, of course not! She’s a deity. She’s eternal. She’s forever.”

“Well, that was slightly disturbing. Let’s just keep going and forget that you’re friends with Scrub-Nipplewrath.”

“Shub-Niggurath. And Lubin?”

“Jesus Christ, what is it this time?”

“We’ve been walking for a few days now…”

“And?”

“And, you still haven’t told me where we’re going!”

“Well, that’s easy! We’re going… Uh… We’re…”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“We’re going on an adventure.”

“A trip without a destination?”

“Sure.”

“That’s boring.”

“Well, what would you rather us do?” Lubin huffed, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

“Well, first I’d like to know where we are.”

“What do you think?”

“Noodle noodle fried chicken.”

“What the hell?” Lubin questioned, giving his companion The Look. You all know which one. You've all seen someone squint their eyes, lower and scrunch their eyebrows, and pull their mouth into a sort of smile (the kind saved specifically for oh, my God, you're such an idiot moments).

“You asked me what I was thinking.”

“Obviously I meant what you were thinking in relation to where we are, not noodle noodle fried chicken.”

“Um… komorebi.”

“Korobeiniki?”

“No,” Ephraim sighed, also becoming irritated by the other’s stupidity (or total averageness) “that’s a Russian folk song. I said komorebi. Sunlight shining through trees, or the image created by it.”

“You know I’m not good with these big words. Try again. This time try telling me where we actually are.”

By now I hope it's clear that we're dealing with nincompoops. Complete and utter idiots. Granted, they're two entirely different types of idiots, but idiots nonetheless. Ephraim's head was filled with all sorts of useless information. He could recite the Fibonacci sequence for hours and hours, define any word, play a large assortment of instruments, and curse in every language, but couldn't socialize to save his life. Basically, all common, important knowledge is totally foreign to him. Lubin was everything Ephraim was not. He could read, write, and do basic math, but beyond that he was useless. To make up for that, however, he could talk his way in and out of any situation. His “street smarts” were unrivaled.

Yes, these boys are idiots. Idiots who are going to save the kingdom whether they like it or not.

Ephraim looked around and realized they were lost. Of course, he knew he was lost, but he was always lost in a way.

The forest is beautiful at this time of day, he mused, but it’s hard to appreciate it knowing the types of bandits and slave traders who travel these paths.

Lubin had suggested this overgrown trail thinking that since it apparently had been years since it had used, they were unlikely to run into any shady folk.

Clear your mind, he thought. You’re supposed to be figuring out where we are, not going off tangent like this. Is that the right way to say that? Is it ‘off tangent’ or ‘off on a tangent’? Lubin never says phrases right, so I wouldn’t- crap, I’m doing it again.

Figuring this out was harder than Ephraim had expected it to be.

Think, he said to himself again. What do you see?

The trees were tall. Taller than anything he’d seen before. Although he had no idea what the castle looked like, he’d bet good money that these trees at least twice its height. Ephraim picked one with branches that were no more than two meters above the ground.

“Lubin, can you give me a lift?”

“Sure, how high?”

“Just to the first branch on this tree.”

“Dear Lord, you’re short.”

Ephraim stepped up, first on his friend’s knee, then his shoulders, and finally grabbing the branch. Using more effort than he should have needed to, he pulled himself up, bough by bough, until he was high enough to poke his head out above the canopy of leaves.

“It looks like we’ve been traveling north,” he yelled down.

“We’ve been straddling shorts?” Lubin called back.

“No, no,” Ephraim sighed, more to himself since he now knew Lubin couldn’t hear him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something interesting. Smoke. Someone else was there. Someone else was close to there.

Ephraim attempted to speed down the trunk of the tree but fell about five feet with a painful thud.

“Oof, that sounded bad,” Lubin stated nonchalantly.

“A bit of help would be appreciated,” he wheezed.

After a significantly large time spent catching his breath, Ephraim was finally able to speak with only a small amount of pain.

“Fire,” he gasped. “There's a fire to the west.”

“What do you think?” Lubin asked. “Wait, don't answer that. Do you think we should check it out?”

“We definitely shouldn't.”

“Which means we're doing it?”

Ephraim flashed him an evil grin.

“Absolutely.”