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

Chapter 22

Halsey - Stranger

I have no regrets–I'm too obsessed with this song.

The phantoms hovered over the sleeping girl before them. Their sharp talons reached out to trace along the lines of her face. The girl stirred, gripping the sheets until her knuckles turned white, but did not wake.

Destroy, destroy, destroy, their voices chanted. They channeled endless visions of nightmares into the girl's dreams. It was simply their nature to do this. She thrashed, as she always did every night.

They hissed as a figure materialized beside them, beams of blinding light filling the room. It happened for only a second, but steam rose from the ground where the phantoms were at a mere moment ago.

"Leave her alone," growled the Faerie woman, white eyes blazing with fire. In the sliver of moonlight that managed to stream into the room, her skin gave off a soft glow.

Black shadowy tendrils curled over her shoulders. She did not flinch, only shrugging them off impatiently.

The phantoms leered. There voices came out in rasps–like rough stone on smooth marble. "Or else what, Highness? The power you held has long disappeared after your death."

Mertham narrowed her eyes, giving a sly grin. "That's what you believe. But you forget that I'm bound to Jessa just as much as you are. Which includes my magic."

Talons formed out of the shadows, closing over Mertham's face. She stepped out of their grasps, shaking out their cold, lingering touches.

"They have made you monsters well, I see," the Faerie mused.

"Careful what you say, Faerie Princess," the phantoms warned. "You cannot protect the girl forever."

"Tsk," Mertham said. "I will not listen to creatures made by another's hand."

A low growl rumbled from somewhere deep in the darkness. "No matter how many shields placed around her, the girl will break. Whether it be by our nightmares, or the events of her own life."

There was a pause before the Faerie replied coolly, "I will not let that happen."

If the phantoms had faces, they would've smiled. Alas, they didn't, and only cackled as they retreated back into their abyss of shadows.

When she was sure they were completely gone–at least for the time being–Merthan knelt next to Jessa's cot. The young girl now slept peacefully, face covered with her messy hair. Mertham could almost imagine the normalcy of this moment; that peace was an eternal thing.

For a long, long time, the Faerie woman had witnessed the course of Jessa's life. She could recall seeing the girl running through the woods with the sure-footedness that was almost inhuman; the girl's demolished facade for the years that came afterwards; the acceptance of death in the Carleone prison. For a long time, Mertham could only help by giving her mental strength to go on, unable to do anything other than that. The first time she'd managed to meet Jessa in a dream was when she had finally gathered enough magic to do so. That took years.

The phantoms were right in a way. Some of her powers had left after she'd died hundreds of years ago. Magic was alive–Mertham was not. And that made it exceptionally harder for her to control.

"I'm right here," she whispered with gritted teeth to the sleeping girl, whom she was bound to; gradually taking the poisonous nightmares away from her mind. "I'm right here."

–––

Some mornings, Raya and Jessa would hang out together, whether it be strolling through the gardens or eating stolen candy from the kitchens in either of their rooms. Jessa had grown used to the princess's books-crammed suite. Terhen, on the other hand, taught her countless fighting moves–both with and without weapons, which included her ice powers, of course.