"You must claim your destiny, Guinevere,"she'd said.
"I am not a queen,"I'd whispered in response.
And I repeated the words now, in the darkness of my bedchamber, as if I needed to reaffirm them. Then I sat there as my heartbeat slowed, each thump a refusal of a destiny—a fate for which I wanted no part.
And yet, the gentle persuasion of my own water magic coursed through me—an incessant ripple beneath my skin, as though it was desperate to return to the lake. It was as if the water within me wanted to bond with the water of the lake, as if it were trying to draw me out of my chamber, across Camelot's grounds to the wild that existed beyond the twisted trees.
I sucked in a lungful of cool air and focused on the rustle of leaves beyond my window. Gradually, my breaths steadied, and the haunting voice of the Lady of the Lake faded from my mind, leaving only the night around me, bearing silent witness.
"Hoot, hoot."
At the sound of an owl, I turned to face the window and was pleased to see the same owl that had visited me before. Standing, I walked to the window and opened it.
"Hello." My voice was soft as I didn't want to frighten the beautiful creature away.
"Hoot. Hoot."
I felt a smile break across my face as the owl stared at me, and I stared back at it.
Then it spread its wings, launching from the perch of the tree. As I watched, it glided through what little air separated us and settled onto the sill of my window. Carefully, I stepped back, giving the beautiful creature space. I didn't want to scare it away. The owl's large eyes met mine, and it stretched its wings out before pulling them back into the warmth of its body.
"Hoot. Hoot."
"Welcome to my chamber window," I murmured. "You're welcome to stay as long as you’d like."
The owl blinked slowly, as if considering my offer, its gaze thoughtful and wise. I held my breath, reverent in the shared silence, finding solace in the simple presence of this unexpected guest.
Its feathers rustled gently in the night breeze, and even though it was silly, it almost seemed as if the creature could understand me. I couldn't help but feel a kinship with this silent sentinel, a reminder of the wilderness beyond Camelot's rigid walls that held mystery and magic still untouched.
"Well," I murmured, swiping damp hair from my forehead. "You've been there a while, haven't you, watching me wrestle with dreams and shadowed fates?"
The owl blinked, shifting slightly but holding my gaze as I approached. It didn't appear to be afraid of me.
"Tell me, do you know anything about dreams?" My voice held a teasing lilt because, of course, the creature couldn't respond. There was something comforting about talking to it, though, all the same.
"You need a name—I don't want to keep referring to you as 'it.'"
The owl just blinked up at me.
"Well, the first line of business is to decide whether you're a boy or a girl." I studied the owl for a moment or two before nodding. "You look like a boy to me."
"Hoot."
I took that to be an answer in the affirmative.
"Okay, very good. I think I shall call you… Peep."
"Hoot."
I took that as another affirmative.
The name seemed fitting, with his handsome plumage and wise demeanor. If anything, it was almost comforting to speak to a creature that required no answers—one that simply existed and observed.
"I am happy to meet you, Peep."
I ran a finger over the windowsill next to where he was perched. Peep remained silent, his presence an unspoken affirmation—and perhaps that was enough for me tonight. There lay solace in our silly exchange, a quiet understanding despite the chaos swirling through my life.
The pull to the lake and its seductive promise still thrummed softly at the edge of my mind. I might have rejected the prospect of crown and kingdom, but I had a feeling the Lady of the Lake wasn't going to give up so easily. What was more, I had a feeling this dream I'd just had was no dream at all, but a calling. Whatever it was, I refused to be shackled by inherited roles or whispered destiny. My path was mine to forge—through choice.
