Merlin and Vivian
It is so dark now. And cold. Sight abandoned me long ago, and I feel… insubstantial. Unreal. Ghostly. I am a mind in space- a specter in the darkest parts of Hell, frozen here beneath the Earth. Where I belong.
In my youth, I lived in a peasant town outside the border of Camelot. My uncle- who was as a father to me- was a skilled physician, and I, his apprentice. Oftentimes, I was bade to gather the medicinal herbs that grew by the lakeside. Lake Vivian, she was called, and all the most potent herbs sprouted from her beaches. Nightshade blossomed, wicked and indigo, alongside passionate lavender. And basil, innocent and soft, lead to the sharp needles of arching pine trees. Faithful morning glories alongside pure honeysuckle and treacherous ivy wound up the trunks of oak, weeping willow, and maple trees. She mothered a myriad of herbs, unimaginable in variety: angelica, betony, mistletoe, fennel, rosemary, St. John's wort, vervain, mugwort, sage, garlic, oleander, and too many more! Such do not, should not grow together naturally, and all by a lake! But she was not natural. She was of the mystic. She had magic. She could grow anything.
I looked forward to seeing her each time I was set to my task. When I arrived, I could not help but smell the dizzying aroma of so many blooming plants. They caused explosions of bright colors in the space of my mind. The air was a thick wine, sharp with the pollen of flowers and the icy mist of the lake. Breathing was drinking, and drinking was consummating… intoxicating. The air became to me a comforting dampness. I felt myself enveloped, embraced. She held me close, but did not smother me. Just breathing her air had me soothed, as if I had taken some calming medicine. Perhaps this drug was addictive, because I constantly desired more of it. I became impatient and distracted at home, as a mere physician's apprentice, longing to be there by her shores, soaked shoes sinking into the mud amongst reeds.
I would often linger by her tranquil waters for hours. I was entranced, infatuated with her. She was a mysterious lake, deep and dark. The winding trees, whom she had nursed since seedlings, competed harshly for sunlight, throwing the lake into muffled shadow. She did not protest, this coverage suited her, for she kept many secrets in her black depths. I would stare into her impenetrable waters, never wondering why she harbored no fish. She was perfect enough for me. Her gentle seduction had cast a spell over my eyes.
Over glistening rocks, she would murmur, but only ever quietly. She was the only sound I heard. When I entered her clearing, the chirping and flitting of birds died down. There were no chittering chipmunks, or rustling lizards. Crickets, dragonflies, and bugs- all were absent. Animals knew this was a sacred place (a haunted place)- knew not to come here. I would step as silently as I could, feeling as if I were a murderer with each thunderous footfall. But she forgave me my trespasses in that gentle burble of hers. She was so merciful to me, so kind and understanding- my heart ached to hear her sweet song. And how could I betray her by not obeying?
I'm so cold. I run but haven't moved. There are walls shifting on all sides of me- I think, anyway. It's hard to tell where I end and the walls begin. I'm floating, though. And trapped. My head is woozy- there is not enough air to breathe and I feel hollow. Except my hands. They are the only part of me that feels solid: heavy and numb, beaten and tattered, they used to fight this. The mud and soil under my nails, ingrained in the lines of my hands, can only represent the rest of me. I can't remember now; had I been fighting this, too?
I was satisfied enough to spend the rest of my life by my Vivian. Though I would grow old, she would never age. She would live on forever. My life, in comparison, was fleeting. I spent too much of it away from her. My uncle expected me. I was his apprentice for the healing arts, medicines, potions, and the like. The town depended on me to aid in times of sickness. And I could not simply abandon my responsibilities. They needed me. But how could I go on, separated so from the lake?
No, I could no longer stand it. I must find a way to make my love corporeal- to give her life in a form like my own. That is when I set out to learn the mystical arts- both light and dark. Majick, you'd call it. Before I left, I confessed to her my plan. I was frightened, but determined. How could she desire anything else, but the mirror of my own? No, I almost feel as if it were her idea in the first place. For the first time, I touched her chilling waters; they pierced me to the bone. Cupping her in my hands, I could see my own reflection. It was the last time I would see my face so young. I partook of her essence, drinking her in. She became one with me, a veritable part of me, sealing our covenant: no matter what befell me, I would return to her. I would make her a woman.
I don't remember anymore. Am I dead? Is that why I feel like a ghost? Can I die? I'm trapped, I'm trapped and I don't even remember. I have forgotten language. I no longer remember how to call for help. I think I'm immortal. I think this is eternity. This is eternity.
I went though many trials and tribulations. I discovered my path in life. I learned and learned and grew. Half a century passed. I had become a more than competent wizard. A powerful sorcerer. But I had not forgotten my covenant. I longed to be with my Vivian once again. But I was busy. I had a destiny to complete. Arthur- soon to be King- was my liege, and I served him faithfully. I had a Kingdom to protect, and how could I leave? Vivian waited for me, patiently- impatiently- I knew not. But I could not see her. Not yet. I needed to find Arthur. Vivian would have to wait, she was a lake after all. She would not grow old waiting. No, I've lied. I did forget her at times. I did become distracted. And for some reason, I felt her pull on me growing weaker and weaker. Perhaps time heals all loves? Then, I had a vision. Arthur. Excalibur.
I approached her with Arthur in tow. She was not the same lake. Where before she had her myriad thick plants, her offspring, surrounding her, she now had white sand, course and grainy. The trees stood sharp and naked, threatening in their stances. The sun shone mercilessly upon her, revealing all her best kept secrets. She glimmered disdainfully, shone tormented. There stood Excalibur, the sword of destiny, penetrating her stomach like a thunderbolt. I was horrified. What had happened her while I was gone? What had befallen my love when I abandoned her? I forgot Arthur. I needed to bring her to me. I needed to save my Vivian from this wretched state. I called for her, weaving ancient power into her name. Vivian, I called. I felt her breath as the breeze in my hair. Vivian. Her murmur like trickling water, whispered in my ear. Vivian, Vivian. Her scent was cool and fresh and- Vivian! Water dripped from my lips, and I drank her down. Oh, her own lips splashed against mine, becoming more and more real until water became flesh and blood.
She was pale of skin, but black of hair, her blue eyes penetrating. She stepped from me, suddenly, as if remembering something shocking. "You came for the sword." She murmured, quietly, quietly.
"Yes," I answered, overcome with the sight of her, the taste of her, "but I did not forget you."
She pursed her pale lips over glittering teeth, "And you shall have it, Arthur King." At which she gripped the hilt embedded in her torso and slowly, slowly pulled it from her stomach. Water dribbled from her wound, grotesquely, but she did not wince. She showed no sign of any emotion at all on her blank white face. Droplets rolled off of the blade, splattering into the sand, gore at her feet. "With this sword, no blade may pierce you," delivered she, neutrally, "It is named Excalibur. Should you keep it, you shall be an impenetrable Sovereign." He reached for it- "Beware, however. If you let it be lost to you, it shall have no qualms about betraying you." And she dropped the blade at his feet, carelessly.
Arthur knelt down to retrieve the sword. His skinny legs beclothed in peasants rags trembled at the knees as they struck course sand, making deep imprints. His slender, callused fingers hesitated before proudly gripping the hilt of that glorious blade. His handsome face, which only seconds ago had looked so young, now shone with a striking confidence. United with this weapon, the holy blade that was destined just for him, Arthur's demeanor took on a powerful energy. It was clear where it was not before. This boy would be king. This boy could unite all of Albion. And aura of gold seemed to alight on him, piercing the grey of the air and sky.
Vivian sucked in a sharp breath- as if it were her first, and gurgling through pearlescent teeth, she hissed, "You'd best be careful, Arthur King, before whom you kneel down."
The boy jumped up of a sudden, embarrassed to have been distracted for so long. "Y-yes, my lady! I apologize! I meant no disrespect." His stance was hunched, not just a boy's, but a servant boy's timidity he displayed. For years, such a life had suited him. He was pitiful in his groveling. The glimpse was gone and he was but a servant boy again. The bleak gray mist took its place grimly, rolling in like smoke from a fire. Vivian looked on mercilessly. "Leave us." demanded she, a lady to a servant.
The boy nodded, wide-eyed, and scampered off, leaving messy footprints in the sand. The air was still and warm. Vivian faced me directly. "Speak you no word to me?"
Words tumbled off my tongue like rain. Though she was drenched in them, she drank not one. My excuses were nothing to her. "I warn you," said she, "I feel I have changed since we last met. I am stronger now. And I have the power to carry out my will, where before I could never." I thought all was lost until she smiled at me (and my heart choked like a strangled animal), but there was an emotion I could not read in her eyes. I was too swept up in melancholy and romance to notice the change in her. Vivian wept lake-water tears, emotion overtaking her stoic face like a disease, "Merlin," she whispered in confidence, "I will help the One and Future King bring justice to the realm. Do you understand?" Of course I did. Of course. She suddenly, desperately, loved me. She hung off my every word and always longed to be in contact with me. For years after, we were closer than I had ever imagined possible. Arthur became king, Albion peaceful, and I could live happily for the rest of my days. And I could hardly deny teaching Vivian magic when she asked. Why not? I taught her everything I knew, and in return, she taught me something, too.
I gave Arthur his destiny, so was needed no longer. I had the luxury of taking time to myself, though I would never want to be alone, and long walks with Vivian. One day, we discovered a cave that tunneled into the bowels of the earth. She bid me explore it, for she was afraid of places underground. I did not deny her. This small exploration did not seem perilous to me, I, who have had my share of adventures. This was, rather, quite quaint. Innocent, even. Or so it seemed. How a world can change even during the quietest of times! Upon stepping inside, my world went suddenly dark. Light was cut off from me and so too was air; I choked on dust in the darkness. The earth seemed to close in around me, cold and shifting. Scrabbling on the walls with my fingers, I cried out my confusion and worry.
I taught her everything I knew, and in return, she taught me pain. The pain she felt at being forgotten for half a century, allowed to rot and age, sicken and change- that feeling, that empty, tearing, bleeding experience- I learned that. I know that. It is so dark now. And cold. Sight abandoned me long ago, and I feel… insubstantial. Unreal. Ghostly. I am a mind in space- a specter in the darkest parts of Hell, frozen here beneath the Earth. She didn't even say goodbye.
Justice she said, revenge in her mind. And how come I can't stop thinking? How come I never stopped to think, then: How she hated me. She seduced me. Used me. Tortured me.
I would sit by her, night and day, confessing my soul to her. And I could hear her sigh with each word that I pronounced. An answering mist she sent to touch my lips. Each breath I gave, she took and formed a cloud of droplets hanging in midair before me. It was a manifestation of herself, this cloud. Though it seemed to escape from my own mouth, I knew it did not. It was her own face that formed, to kiss me. She did not have enough power, I realized, to keep any corporeal form for long. I did not mind. Though she could not come with me, I could stay by her. I would stay by my Vivian forever. We would be ourselves, unchanging and unharmed, protecting one another. I loved her. Nothing could distract me.
