The Lady Of The Lake ~

A dark fantasy tale of magical realism

She heard the winds calling her and stepped onto the stone balcony. It was as if she longed to summon a storm, yet her face remained composed. Without looking back, she closed the windows behind her. Her eyes fixed only on the lake ahead. She wore her red cloak.

Dozens of birds swept past the balcony, vanishing into the winds beyond. None settled on the stone floor. They brushed against her hair and cloak as they flew, black wings grazing the red fabric, her pale face as still as the stones beneath her feet. She stood listening as the rustling leaves played a strange melody, as though summoning something. She waited.

When the sun disappeared, the world fell silent. They called it a cursed sign. Still, spring did not come.

Then the black bird returned — the one they had cast out — and from its mouth it dropped an emerald gem onto the windowsill. Its beak was a pinkish-beige, the color of flesh.

The woman in the red cloak moved toward the gem, her eyes never leaving the bird. It held the emerald in its beak until she took it. She reached out and stroked its tail feathers. The bird hopped into her hand, then climbed to her chest and nestled into her arms, tilting its head so it rested perfectly against her shoulder. Its small dark eyes, almost human, looked into hers. She smiled.

But the black bird rose suddenly toward her neck. It might have kissed her — but no. Staring into her eyes, it tore her throat open. Blood poured out, staining the cloak until the fabric seemed to grow out of the wound itself.

She gasped, clutching at the clouds above as pain consumed her. Yet instead of screaming, she kissed the black bird. Butterflies burst from her wound as the bird’s eyes widened. With trembling hands, she lifted the emerald and sliced the wound wider, and the bird began to grow white wings around its beak.

An explosion split the sky, and the sun returned. The black bird became pure light and vanished. She turned back to the stone house only to whisper goodbye.

Then she walked to the lake and slipped off her red cloak. She was not cold. She felt no shame. The trees stood guard as she smiled at the winds that had already forgotten her.

She stepped into the water and vanished beneath its circling depths.

That day, the sky was strange.…