Words: 854 | Genre: fantasy, adventure, slow-burn | Title: Frost of Avalon
Arthur emerged from the castle keep hidden in the Black Forest and leaned against the cool, ancient stone. It had survived his nearly thousand-year absence with little more than some natural overgrowth. This place, where he and his knights once often lodged, was the closest he’d ever get to home in this time. Even the trees were the same ones he left behind.
They looked back as if remembering him, and he smiled. He could endure another round of spells. Reenergized, he turned back inside but stopped to discover his path cut off and pitch black. He listened.
Then, the earth under him rumbled and gave away. Arthur clamped his mouth shut, so he wouldn’t shout, and held his breath just before plummeting into the lake which had filled the keep’s dungeon.
Arthur resurfaced, groaning. The impact had jarred his burning insides and reminded him he was worse off than he wanted to admit. He searched for a handhold but, finding nothing obvious in the darkness, settled on gripping one of the cracked walls to catch his breath.
Then, a golden flash below forced his muscles tight in alarm. He backed further against the wall and peered down. Another glittering wave, like a fish’s scales or mermaid lights, made him bend his nose to the surface. He lurched back when it raced upward and watched a woman splash through. He turned his face from the spray, one arm ready to defend himself as he recovered. When he looked back, the maiden gawked.
“You are alive,” she whispered.
“For now,” he agreed as he eyed her, though he did not care to look her up and down save to comfort himself in that she carried no weapon.
She frowned and came a little closer. “What is wrong with your voice?”
He looked on her grimly, unable to provide an answer without revealing Carys’s current vulnerability.
“Are you in pain?” she continued as if sensing his resolve. He winced as she placed a hand on his chest to study the magic circle still glowing through his shirt. “I can help you,” she said looking up at him eagerly.
“I’m alright." Past experience had taught him that helpful maidens weren’t all well-meaning.
“They said you were stubborn.” She caressed his face and tilted her head. “You will not accept my gift, Old King?”
“Who are you?” Arthur got enough of being called old from Merlin. He knew he didn’t look his age and didn’t need others to point it out. Besides--since when did mermaids have an interest in kings brought back from the dead?
“No one,” she replied
“No one wants to help me?”
“If you allow it. I have no reason to hurt you.”
“Neither did the many others who attempted me harm.”
She held out her hand, and he looked at what she wanted to give him. “This will heal your wounds, but it will also show you something you do not wish to see.”
Arthur stared at the dark, luminous kelp. “A nightmare?”
“Something like that, yes. A side effect.”
“My wizard is already making me something,” he said.
“But he does not know where you are, and it will be difficult to climb your way out in your pain.” She pointed to the bars on one side of the wall.
Arthur frowned as he had to squint to see them. She was right, but he wanted to know how he ended up falling into the lake at all. He didn’t think the mermaid had brought him, though he didn’t credit her presence to coincidence. “Why are you here?” he asked.
“I wanted to see if the rumors were true,” she said.
“Rumors.” That was a daunting word he didn’t care for.
“They say the One True King has returned.”
“Who is they?”
“The fae. They are waiting to see what you will do.”
“Not what they expect me to.” He had plans, but none so grand as what they surely hoped. This was his second chance, and he wouldn’t give up his life to them. His wish had nothing to do with being king again.
“What is it?” she probed.
“That’s personal. And I want to keep it that way.”
She studied him, nodded, and swam backward into the center of the tower-pool. “If you wish to risk the swim, the exit is that way.” She pointed below where Arthur guessed was an old path through the keep. “I do not recommend a human attempt it. It is better for you to eat the kelp and see the nightmare. Recover fast and meet your wizard friend. He is probably looking for you.” Then, having made her offer, she dove down and disappeared.
Arthur stared, debating his options. He didn’t like any of them.
He turned to the little bit of kelp she left in his hand. It slid across his palm and smelt of the sea, a sight he long missed. Bracing himself, he let it in his mouth and prepared to face whatever horror emerged from his past, because no nightmare could compare to anything he had endured during his own waking life.
