The head of a woman slowly rose out of the lake. She moved toward them, unhurried and graceful, her body gradually rising upward.
Trystan caught the bewildered look on Marc’s face. Following his gaze, Trystan turned to see a figure rising out of the water. The creature did not appear human. Perhaps it was responsible for his near death experience.
He spurred into action. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or anger that drove him, but he was not about to become a victim again.
Trystan ran and pulled his bow from the leather case strapped to the horse in which it rested. He strung it quickly and grabbed an arrow from the quiver. Carefully, with a steady arm, Trystan took aim at the female figure.
Marc pushed down on the arrow primed in Trystan’s bow.
“What are you doing? That thing nearly killed me!”
“No,” Marc answered. “You are alive because of her. Something or someone bewitched the lake. She was imprisoned at the bottom. I freed her and she somehow reversed the magic, allowing us to escape.”
Trystan stared at him, his eyes wide. He’d witnessed magic the other day when Emrys changed his appearance. Had Marc known?
“There are no other words to describe what I saw, Trystan. Something very strange is happening here. Will you trust me on this?”
The intense look in his eyes told Trystan he was telling the truth. Trystan lowered his bow as the figure in the water continued to approach them.
She had the shape of a woman, but her features were not entirely human. Her naked, glossy blue skin glistened under the film of water that clung to it. Her black eyes peered out from behind long, white hair that fell to her waist. The woman stopped in front of them, knee deep in the lake. Three slits on either side of her neck, just above her collarbone, flexed and moved.Gills?
Trystan cautiously approached the water’s edge and stood facing the female creature.
Once near the shore, the woman spoke in a ghostly, melodic voice.
“Trystan Arthes, King of Camelot, and son of Arthur and Guinevere. I hereby bestow upon you Excalibur, the Sword of Kings.”
As the Lady of the Lake spoke these words, she lifted one of her arms up from her side. A magnificent, steel sword, inlaid with silver and gold rose out of the water. A faint pale green glow surrounded the long sword as it floated toward Trystan. The majestic weapon stopped and hovered in front of him.
Trystan hesitated a moment. Something inside him told him to take it. He reached out and grabbed hold of the sword’s grip. The moment his hand made contact with the sword, a bright green glow emanated from strange markings engraved in the blade. Spellbound, Trystan’s eyes remained fixed on the markings until the glow faded.
The Lady of the Lake extended her hand toward Trystan. An invisible force pulled the bow from his hand. His bow floated between him and the lady. An intense, bluish-white glow surrounded it as it transformed.
The light faded, revealing an elegant weapon of grace and beauty.
“And now, I present you Lokheira, the Bow of Artemis.”
The bow floated back to Trystan. When he grabbed it, he noticed similar markings emanating a faint white glow. After a moment, the glow faded.
“You will need both of these to fulfill the prophecy.”
Trystan stood frozen, his eyes wide and assessing, clutching both weapons in his hands. The prophecy. The one of which Emrys had only briefly spoken.
The lady retreated back into the lake.
“Wait!” Trystan called out. “What do you know of the prophecy?”
The lady stopped and turned. “The answers you seek lie with Myrddin. He is your guide. Your protector. Find him. Discover your past. And fulfill your destiny.”
Before Trystan could say anything else, the lady vanished into the mist.
“We need to speak with Emrys,” Trystan said, heading toward the horses.
“Why Emrys? Does he know where to find Myrddin?”
Trystan paused and looked at Marc. “Emrys is Myrddin.”
“Oh. Well, that would explain why he knows you are the heir.”
