Lady Of Lake And Arrow |A Swan Lake Retelling|: Book One

Chapter 16

Michl - Kill Our Way To Heaven

Her head was on someone's lap, the smell of the spring air wafting around her. She lay on a bed of grass, either a meadow or garden.

For a second she thought she was back home, her mother running her fingers through her wavy curls. She would've dozed off were it not for one thing:

It wasn't spring.

"You're not my mother," she whispered sleepily, eyes closed. She was just curious, not feeling threatened at all. If only she could stay in the peace of this place forever.

"I'm sorry, for frightening you before," Mertham said, not bothering to acknowledge what she said. "All this must be quite a shock to you."

She opened her eyes. Daisies and sunflowers and a whole variety of flowers that couldn't grow at the same time in real life swayed in the breeze of the dream. She was in fact laying on the crossed legs of Mertham, who was humming a tune she'd never heard before.

No. She had heard it somewhere. It was the same tune the Faerie man played on the reeds the night before.

"How is it a shock, when it is not real at all?"

The tips of fingers brushed her cheek. It did not chill her to the bone, like she thought it would. Mertham laughed. "You have a point."

"There must be a reason I'm here," she said, starting to get a hang of her bearings. But she had no desire to sit up, only to lay there forever in an eternal sleep with the flowers.

"Nothing. It is only a dream."

"I doubt that."

Mertham laughed again. "Let me tell you a story, Li Jessamiett."

Once upon a time there were four siblings, with two sisters and two brothers. The two brothers and sister were always at each other's throats, wolves baring their teeth when they thought no one was looking.

Their father, the Faerie King, was weak, unable to muffle the hatred that was visible among them. So the youngest and most loved of the siblings tried to calm each of them. For a while, it worked, and they promised not to fight so much.

Until one of the brothers, the younger one might I say, took advantage.

You see, these siblings were powerful. Perhaps the most powerful Faeries in centuries. And the oldest didn't immediately become heir to the throne–they had to fight for it. For that was the Faerie tradition. These three siblings wanted the throne. Time barely meant anything to these immortal beings, so they could've fought for decades.

The younger Faerie brother was the quieter one, the most sneakiest. Despite his love for his kind, little sister, he locked her up, a prisoner in his chains of deceit. He waited in the shadows while his brother and sister clawed each other to shreds, jumping on them both at the last second.

All the while that happened, the youngest sister still felt love for her brothers and sisters, even for the brother that lied to her.

Before Death took her, she vowed to come back when the time was right. She didn't think it would be a long time, but not long after her siblings followed her to the grave.

She never came back.

The story sounded familiar on some aspects, yet nothing like from the book she'd read. There was obviously supposed to be a type of message in there, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was, much less, what it meant.