The Lady of the Lake

Nimue, the lady of the lake; living alone and isolated from the world above, waiting for something. What it is, she does not know, she only knows she’s waiting. She only knows the feeling of longing, the heavy pain of sorrow weighing her down, the fear of nothing and everything, the bewildering thoughts. She beholds great wisdom
yet can not find the way to unlock the wisdom to hearten her own self or to lift her burdens and bring herself light.

The water nymph has lived alone for thousands of years in her dwelling under the water. Roaming the halls and passing through empty rooms, searching for something that is not there. Her nights filled with haunting dreams of the unknown, rousing her fear from its slumber.

Her dreams have grown more vivid and horrifying. Deceit, murder, pain, fear, sorrow, anger, war, blood…….massive bloodshed. The dreams leave her consumed with fear during her long days. She realizes that the dreams are visions of the world of man.

“Pitiful creatures, no respect for the precious life they have. So short their years, yet they cut them shorter with their foolishness,” she spoke to herself as she gazed up through the water, eyes seeking the world she didn’t know, the beings she didn’t know. She sighed as she turned from her window, and wandered through her house once more.

That night she had another nightmare.
She saw blood, gleaming from a raging fire, blood from many who had fallen in battle. She felt the heat of the fire, the fear, the adrenaline. She saw bodies being prodded and searched for signs of life. She saw those who were still living slashed and those dead treated with no reverence. The bodies were being loaded onto carts and wheeled to the pier, then dumped into the water, letting them sink into the deep water. A fallen warrior survived and escaped the inspecting men as he crawled, unseen, onto one of the carts before slipping into unconsciousness. The cart was led to the water, as the others were, and deposited the bodies. The living man sank with the others to the depths.

Nimue sat straight up in her bed, breathing heavily. The details of the dream came flooding back to her as she tried to calm herself.

“The bodies! They’re in the water, sinking! Sinking down to me!” she gasped as she leapt out of bed and raced down the hall. “That man was living. Why did he choose to sink with the rest, to drown?” she asked no one as she came to her large window.

She peered up through the dark water. Nothing. She sighed with relief and held herself as she trembled. She continued to gaze up at the surface far above her. Through the dark blue she caught a glimpse of orange.

“Fire,” she instantly thought aloud.

The fear returned.

“Was it real? Is it happening now? Is my home going to be tainted with death and blood?” A shiver went down her spine. “Will I look out my window everyday and see a graveyard?”

She had the power to move the remains with her magic, but could she bring herself to disturb the resting places of those who suffered a horrible death. They who would finally find peace in the tranquil waters of her world, who would finally be safe and content?

“No. I couldn’t,” she spoke her conclusion.

She soon saw shadows in the water above her. She held her breath, hoping it wasn’t what she knew it was.

The shadows grew larger as they came closer. She stood paralyzed, staring, trembling.

She could now make out the forms of the dead. She could see the muddied water surrounding the bodies. She could sense the death.

A glimpse of voluntary movement caught her eye. The surviving man from her dream was making a feeble attempt to either swim or remove his heavy armor, she couldn’t tell which. Startled that he had survived this long underwater, she merely stood there watching him in astonishment.

“What catastrophe will this bring? Our worlds have never been brought together. Humans don’t know of my kind. They only just discovered the mage and some other simple beings of magic. Not even five centuries has passed,” she spoke her thoughts to herself.

Suddenly her eyes caught those of the man’s and all worrying thoughts fled her mind. She had to save him. She walked through the invisible barrier, between the room and the water, and floated to the man’s side. He stopped moving, stunned, and just gazed at her. Swiftly, Nimue took hold of him and guided him back to the barrier and glided through, landing softly as the man tumbled to the floor.

He lay in a heap, coughing up water, gasping for air. Nimue watched in thought for a brief moment before kneeling at his side ready to assist him. She found there was nothing for her to do besides try and sooth him by rubbing her back. His coughing stopped and he slowly turned onto his back, breathless. He was pale and sickly as he gazed up at her.

Nimue watched him with concern and fear.

“Who are you?” she spoke it as a whisper, not meaning it to be answered.

“D-Dace,” the man gasped.

Surprised that the man had answered her, Nimue took a moment to respond.

“I’m Nimue. I’ll help you in any way I can.”

He reached for something on his back, grunting at the movements. Slowly he drew a sword out from behind him. Nimue stiffened in fear. The man held the magnificent sword in front of him, gazing at it in reverie. He then lifted it up to Nimue, who just stared at it in astonishment.

“If you want to help me, take this sword and protect it,” he spoke sternly yet seemed to be pleading.

“Protect a sword?” Nimue asked, bewildered.

“Protect Excalibur.”