On either side the river lie
Long the fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the world a meet the sky;
And thro' the field of the roads run by.
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow,
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Annya was walking at dawn between the snow-white aspens along the crystal clear river. Her barefeet barely left any marks on the moss that she tread on. It was her 100th birthday; and this was a very special birthday, for she was to choose someone to marry as was it her duty as a princess, but she loved no one.
She shivered in the crisp morning air, which was odd because she could not feel icy or warm.
Just nervous, she thought, as she fluttered her wings to scatter the dew on them. The sun started to shine brightly and made the colours of her wings reflect on the moss. They were ruby red with a glassy light blue around the edges, and by her shoulder blades the blue spread out in no apparent order. All the other fairy's wings were plain silver and not as beautiful as hers.
Annya was staring at her reflection in the shining waters of the river. Her eyes were blood red. Perhaps they were red, to match her wings. Her eyes were usually different shades of blue and purple. She had rosy lips and was extremely pretty. She could see in the river the high collar around her neck that stopped in front of her throat and went down in a shape of a "v". It was a, extravagant dress that her mother had made out of the morning sun and night sky, the rainbow, the stars, and the clouds. It was constantly changing colour, and shone brightly because of the stars. Her silver hair touched the water and the reflection disappeared.
Annya stood up; something was happening in the mortal world. The connections to the mortal world and the mysterious powers fairies have let her sense that the mortals would be very happy; but for what reason? Annya called upon the stars to give her a vision of what was happening in the mortal world. She closed her eyes and everything around her started to spin and her spirit was whizzing through the air. Annya landed in the middle of a dusty road. She looked at her surroundings. She was definitely in the mortal world, standing outside the gates of King Arthur's castle. As she looked around her, she saw peasant's and farmer's houses; people were crowding the streets and cheering. Annya looked down the road opposite the gate and saw dust rising behind knights riding their horses. Their armour gleamed in the daylight and nearly blinded Annya's delicate eyes. She started to walk towards the knights with her long dress dragging behind her, now silver as if trying to out-shine the knight's armour. There was a small tug on her from the fairy world calling her spirit back, but she easily shrugged it off.
The first thing that she saw were oxen pulling huge carts, full of injured or dead men.
A bloody battle has been fought, Annya thought. She started to weave a path through the oxen carts towards the knights. Dust started rise even more, and it made Annya cough and feel dirty.
Annya looked up from her fit of coughing and saw a knight whose shield held a red cross on it. He held it very proudly. She saw his sword banging on his thigh as the horse trotted. He seemed to like his sword banging against him, as if it were a re-assurance that he could always use when needed. He had a broad face that seemed happy with victory, but sad with the losses in order to win it. His golden blond hair was blowing back with the slight breeze. He had light blue eyes that seemed to be staring at something that wasn't there. His face hadn't been shaved in a while, and was growing a beard. He was riding a proud magnificent blood bay.
Annya recognized him immediately from the stories that were sung about him. He was none other than Sir Lancelot! Oh how she wished that he could see her, for this was only a vision. She followed him into the great wooden gates that held King Arthur's castle safe. As soon as Annya stepped behind the gates, she saw how busy it was. There were so many people occupied with their jobs that they didn't even notice the knights until a trumpet was blown to announce their arrival. When they heard the trumpet, they immediately dropped what they were doing and ran to aid the knights and the wounded. Right at that moment Annya felt a harsh pull on herself again, and she had to put up a little fight for her spirit to stay in the vision.
An important looking-servant came to help Sir Lancelot dismount his horse. Sir Lancelot murmured a few words to the servant, and Annya heard the servant reply, "At the round table, Sir." Sir Lancelot began to quickly walk towards the doors of the castle. Two guards at the gate opened them for Sir Lancelot to enter.
Once inside the castle, Annya could feel its power seeping through her, searching her, and she felt small and powerless. Just the sheer grandness of the beautifully painted halls could make a person of high power feel like a peasant. There were angels painted in gold, looking down at anyone who came into the halls. Their wings were of an eagles'; each feather magnificently decorated in its own beauty. Each angel held a weapon, and Annya especially liked the bow and arrow. At the bottom of the great pillars and walls were devils. They were the most hideous things Annya had ever seen. They were hooded in dark capes. Some of the devils were going to pounce on the angels, and their hoods would fall back and reveal their face. Their teeth were sharpened so they could tear through steel, and they had faces were full of hatred and anger. It seemed as if they were having fun participating in the war.
Annya quickly walked past their images and closely followed Sir Lancelot. They came up to huge wooden double doors that reached the roof of the castle. They were very thick with a cross carefully carved into each door. Sir Lancelot had difficulty opening the doors.
Annya walked into the room. It was quite barren except for a few stain glass windows and a very big round table in the middle of the room, elevated about an inch off the floor. There were lanterns that held thick long candles in theme and the flame flickered with the wind. Annya began to read the names made of gold on the backs of the high wooden chairs. When her gaze came to the middle, she nearly jumped on the air for seeing a man sitting there. But as she looked more closely at the human eating by himself, she realized that it was King Arthur!
Sir Lancelot approached him, knelt, and sat in a chair close to the king.
"How went the battle, Sir Lancelot?" the King started.
"Well, my king – almost too well."
"What do you mean, Sir Lancelot? Speak quickly, for I have other matters to attend to."
"Sire, we have angered the alliances of those we have just defeated. I have heard that they have declared war on us already, although not formally. Sire, we started off with 10,000 men. Now, after this war we have just fought, around 7,000 are dead or injured. If they attack us now we will not be able to defend ourselves. We will all be killed – even the woman and children, if we do not do something soon. We have very little time to raise a bigger army or ask our alliances to help us or to make more alliances. Even then, to evacuate the kingdom would be the best idea…" Annya could no longer resist the pull of her world. She fought with all her strength, but the pull was greater. She just managed to catch the last words of Sir Lancelot before her spirit was whirled back into her body waiting in the fairy world.
Annya opened her eyes. She was lying on the ground breathing heavily. The vision took up a great deal of her strength and she wondered how she was able to stay that long. She struggled to get up on her feet and when she did she felt dizzy and had to grab a nearby tree to keep her from falling.
So the humans were going to fight another war. This greatly disturbed Annya, for her world and the mortal world were linked. If one were to suffer, the other would feel its pain. Annya started to fly towards the castle. She must tell this to her father. But she had no idea when there would be a war; the war could break out very soon, or it could take many years.