The Lake People

I barely contain my gasp. They are odd, and they are beautiful. Their long green-blue hair cascades down to their feet. They are in different shades of blue satin with shivers of gold, a stunning image against their smooth light blue-purple skin. They peer up at us with the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. A deep indigo. They look excited, except for one. He stands looking intently at each of us. A calm yet firm look on his face. They appear to be three men and two women. My father welcomes them and thanks them for coming to greet us.

Their leader speaks, “Thank you. We have never left the lake like this. We are forbidden. A few of us have decided to come on our own. We are afraid we will not be able to stay very long.”

My father smiles, “You are welcome here for however long you may be able to stay. We are grateful you have ventured here. We hope this will be the first of many visits from you and your people.”

He nods with no expression. The Lake people are gently led to the tables to eat.

The night goes on beautifully. After the feast, my father escorts their leader, Epoc, to the courtyard, and we all follow behind. The lake people are delighted to see the fountain and another harpist by the water. They run and jump into the fountain in delight, all except Epoc. My mother and I laugh deep, full-belly laughs as they squeal with joy. Epoc looks behind him at his people, then briefly at us, before continuing to walk with my father in discussion. My mother and I stop to stand before the fountain.

I tug at my mother's arm, “Look!”

My brother, the prince, is standing face to face with a wide-eyed woman of the lake. She walks around him, her long blue-green ombre hair following her toes. As the woman comes around to face him again, he lifts his arm for her. She places her hand on his forearm and shakes it up and down. He laughs, and we laugh with glee. Tenderly, he takes her hand and wraps it around his arm. She gasps, looks at him, then squeezes herself next to his arm. He smiles warmly as he leads her to the harp. I feel a deep gratitude for being alive and getting to witness all of this.

The night is beautiful and warm. Bellies are full. Laughter and diplomacy fill the courtyard.

I venture back to the feast hall and grab a goblet to quench my thirst. Mid sip, I hear a scream. I drop the goblet as I race to the courtyard, red wine splatters across my dress. Havoc greets me.

My father and Epoc are racing to the scene as well. The sounds of the King's Knights fill the air. The lake people gather back-to-back, wide-eyed. My mother, the Queen, is on the ground. My brother screams, shaking her. My father pushes past everyone, grabs my mother, and races toward the castle. I scream, though I cannot remember hearing the sound. My brother barks at the Knights to gather all of the lake people into the dungeon. Epoc tries to fight him but is subdued. A sea of Knights surrounds the lake people. The woman of the lake, who had taken my brother's arm before, tries to do so again. My brother rips away from her touch to join us. I will never forget the sound of her cry. It was not like anything a human could make. The rest join in a howl as they are dragged to the dungeons.

The castle is alive and awake. A bell is sounding. The physician is hailed as my father races up stone stairs, mother in arms, shutting the door hard behind him.

My brother stands next to me. We both stare at the closed door in shock, “What happened?”

His face twists with rage, “The woman from the lake did something to our mother. I did not see it, all I heard was mother’s scream.”

I do not fight it as he leads me to my door and wishes me goodnight. I close the door and blow out the candles. I do not have it in me to properly prepare for bed. I fall into a deep sleep after crying for my mother.

Rain and thunder awaken us, heaving and yelling their guttural sounds across the sky. Morning is bleak. My father orders the Knights who had brought the lake people into his castle to be whipped and banished. In the same breath, he commands the torture of the lake people. I beg him not to. My brother, perhaps softening, remembering the lake woman, implores him not to. But he will not hear us. He is a King without his Queen, and he will make them pay. The lake people must find a way to bring her back, or the lake people will all be slain by father.

Days pass. The torture of the lake people continues. We do not have to hear their screams, we do not have to smell their flesh burning, we do not have to reconcile with their cries, because they are deep in the dungeon and far from our ears, eyes, and noses. But we know. We know. And as we walk the corridors like ghosts, my brother and I are well aware that beneath our gilded shoes are the mangled bodies of the beautiful lake people. The beautiful lake men and women who had danced in our fountains, who had trusted to walk through our mighty doors, who had listened to a harp for their first time and purred, were now in the throes of our dungeon.

The days roll on. It is midday on another storming morning when I hear my mother’s angry screams. I open the door to see her racing out of the bedroom in her full Queen garb, my father chasing her.

“My love, I did not know what to do!”

She whirls to face him, her eyes mad, her red and gold embroidered gown streaming around with her like the tail of a dragon, 'So you tortured them?'

“What was I to do?”

“Not torture them! They were our guests! How could you? Where is the man I married? I do not know who you are!” My mother stomps down the corridor, my father following. His large form seems smaller. His face is stricken with pain.

I fumble behind him, wanting to see mother. The court hands bow as my mother, the Queen, passes them by. Her, a dejected King, and their nosy daughter. I realize soon that she is headed towards the dungeon.

“My Queen, it is not fit for you to go into the dungeon,” my father protests.

She stops and stands still, her back to him, “If it is not fit for me, then it should hold no one.”

My mother continues her descent. I stop at the top of the stairs as I watch them move out of view down the spiral stairway. I have to find my brother. I run outside into the rain toward the training yard where I know he will be during this time of day. My brother and the Knight he trains with meet metal to metal. Lunge and parry. Both stop at my sight. The Knight bows and, with a nod from my brother, moves on. The wind slaps at us mercilessly as I tell my brother what is transpiring. Together, we run into the castle and race down into the dungeon.

My mother is holding the wall with her hand and sobbing. My father has fallen to his knees. There, lying in the middle of the dungeon on a stone slab, is the open body of Epoc. His torso split, his ribs reflecting the candlelight. Lying on straw in surrounding cages, the lake people lay covered in their own filth and blood. The room spins as darkness engulfs my sight.

I come to in my bed. My brother looks like he has aged. He tells me what happened. Mother and the lake woman stood together smelling the aroma of the rose garden. A rabbit leapt out of the rose bush. The woman of the lake was so startled that she grabbed mother by the wrist and accidentally punctured her with a defensive claw that holds poison. Mother screamed and saw the claw retract before she fell to the ground. It was an accident. Father argued she could have died. Mother growled at him that it was an accident. But what we had done to the people of the lake was a horror they did not deserve. We seduced them from their home, we pushed them to come, and when they got scared, we imprisoned them, tortured them, and killed one of their own. My brother said mother collected all of them from the prisons and brought them to a guest chamber so their broken bones could be mended. She is there with them now, making sure they are fed, washed, and cared for. They are terrified, though they have warmed to the Queen. They will not sleep in separate rooms, and they cry out for Epoc.

He clears his throat, “I caught the eye of the woman by the lake. The beautiful woman who had placed her arm around mine and smiled at the sky with me. Her hair had been cut in odd angles and ripped in patches down to her scalp. Her fingers were broken, and she was limping. I tried to apologize. She looked at me with a deep hatred I have never seen before in anyone. I went to reach for her, she moved away, and the remaining lake men lunged at me. The Knights had to hold them back; my mother was yelling at the Knights not to hurt them. I could hear her as I left the room.” He breaks into sobs. Tears escape my eyes as we sit facing what has happened.

It is twilight when the lake people are ready to leave. At the same time they had arrived many weeks ago. Now they leave with healing wounds, bruises, scars the eye cannot see, and one less person. The life I had seen in those indigo eyes is faded. Their faces look hard. They have pain and hate in their steps. Quietly, they follow my mother out of the castle walls and through the town toward their lake. The procession is small and solemn. Only my mother, brother, and I accompany the lake people as requested. The Knights were uneasy with this. Mother waved them off.

Halfway to the lake, the woman who had been briefly courted by my brother stops to speak,

“You will leave us here. By the time you return to your town, there will be no one left. All of your people will have vanished. We may have been unknowing to your ways, but our elders know ancient ways that are beyond your capacity. Your Queen is the only reason you will be given a chance to get your people back. I will be sure of it. Not for you, but for your Queen.”

We all stand eyes wide with fear. Our town? Is no one left in our town?

I feel a deep chill run up my spine as she speaks again, “I would not swim in these waters again. You will have no mercy from any of us in the waters beyond this warning which I give only because of your Queen. If any of your people or their children play near, we will rise to grab them. You have lost the kindness of our people. The prince or the princess must sacrifice their own life. One of you must bring their blood by sunup tomorrow to the lake. Or, not only will this town be missing, but all of the villages nearby. And your King will experience a slow and painful death.”

With that, she turns, allowing one of the lake people to lean on her as they limp toward the water.

My mother falls to the ground, crying at this proclamation.

As predicted, we return to an empty town. We call out and look around, but there is no one.

We walk to the castle with nothing to say. Back inside the castle walls, mother tells father. He yells and tells her how she should have left them in the dungeon. They fight for hours until they exhaust themselves into tears and hold each other. My brother and I decide we will wait until our parents fall asleep. Through much fighting and more tears, I convince my brother to let me be the sacrifice. Worn down, he finally agrees. I bring my dagger. My brother grabs a bottle to carry my blood when it is spilled. He brings his sword. We walk out of the castle walls and into the village.

My hands begin to shake as I know it is time to deliver on my promise. Before I can remove my dagger, my brother looks my way, gives me a weak smile, and draws his sword.

He wasn't supposed to. It was supposed to be me! I was supposed to die. He swore he would let me. The tears stream as I look down at my brother's body. A numbness keeps me still. The cobblestones are smeared with his blood. The empty town makes no noise.

It is time. I have to get up. I lean over, grab my brother's head into an embrace, and kiss his forehead. Howling in pain, I press my cheek to his, for the last time. Kissing his cheek goodbye, I force myself to collect his blood into the bottle. My whole body shakes. Eyes wide, I scream to the sky in anguish. Slowly, one agonizing step at a time, I begin to walk out of the silent town.

The sky is starting to turn a deep purple hue. Warning of an imminent deadline. My eyes widen. I have to make it. I will not let his death be in vain. I grip the bottle and begin to run. My dress is cold with my brother's blood and sticks to my legs as I run. I feel the pain in my chest; it wants to take over. Shaking my head, I make myself angry. I have to make it!

I run, pushing myself to go faster as the sky begins to betray shades of pink and yellow. My lungs ache as my feet pound the earth. They will be at the shore soon. I can see the ripples forming in the lake. With a final sprint, I make it to the shore. Heaving for air, I genuflect. Head bowed, I lift the bottle above my head as an offering. I hear the splashing as they arrive and walk to the shore to stand before me.

They grab the bottle.

“Rise.”

I rise, yet keep my head bowed.

“Witness,” I hear one of them demand. I lift my head.

I look to see seven of them gathered. I recognize none of them. Their deep green-blue hair pools at their feet. Their gowns, made of the lake water, cover their blue-purple skin. I had forgotten how beautiful they are. The one holding the bottle looks at me. He blinks his indigo eyes, opens the bottle, and pours it onto the ground. The blood turns black, and a scream escapes where it lands before it is completely swallowed by the earth.

“It is done. Go back to your town. You will find your people there. You owe us.”

“I owe you?', incredulous, I glare at him, “I owe you?! My brother is dead!”

His face contorts into a horrifying sight. I stumble back as he hisses, “And your whole town would be dead and many villages for what your town did to us. What we gave you here was merciful. Your townspeople will be exactly as you left them. They will remember nothing; they will not recognize you. Your brother will be another dead body to them. The King and Queen will not know you as their daughter; they will have forgotten they ever had a daughter and a prince as heir. They will have more children, and should you, by some rare grace, see them pass you by, they will not know you. You will spend your life as a stranger, even to your people. This is merciful. Know this. And dare not question or challenge what we have given you.”

With this, they all turn and enter the lake. As the final ripples disappear across the water, the sun rises in full glory. I lay on the grass, weeping. I turn my eyes to the town. I can see smoke rising from cottages. In the distance, I see our castle walls and the castle towers where I was raised. I have lost it all. My brother, my mother, my father. It's all gone. But my people are safe. As the pain fills my body like liquid, I remember my father telling me, while he bounced me on his knee when I was small, “The people are not here to serve us; we are here to serve our people. We are not greater than them because we are Kings and Queens, nor princes, nor princesses. We have a responsibility to provide the best life, safety, and kindness to our people. That is your duty as a princess, nothing else.”

A painful smile plays its song across my lips, “I did it, brother. Everyone is OK now. We did it.”