Chapter 11: The Death of the Lake
Enough was enough! The physician ran to the Lord’s chambers hastily, as he had done numerous times for the past few months. They were at it again, though both knew the dangers it posed!
Luckily, the servants usually managed to inform the physician just in time; the Lord commanded them to do so himself, and added - no matter what gold or silver he’d offer them overtaken by lust - they would be executed, if the servants wouldn’t call the guards and the physician.
The physician ran into Lord Morten’s chamber, and dragged the fired-up Aurora from the Lord’s lap. She already had blisters on her skin, where the dress was burned by the Dragonling’s fiery touch.
“Let go of me! Don’t dare! I want Morten, and I want him now!” Aurora shrieked, holding on to her round stomach. The rampage caused her pain. The Lord moaned - the flames burned him unbearably without the much needed satisfaction. Ever since he had begun recovering from his injury, Aurora tried to seduce him. Not only was he in danger, but she would not understand - untamed flames of the Dragonling might hurt the child she’s bearing. The Lord, however, was determined to keep the child alive, although he was not strong enough to stay away from Aurora’s temptations.
The physician forced Lord Morten to empty a glass of Strong water; it was the only remedy he could use to calm the rising flames without damaging his health.
“My Lord, you must understand, this is not the time for it. You haven’t recovered yet and even if you had - Lady Aurora and your child would be in danger. Her pregnancy is not going smoothly!” The physician scolded his Lord.
“Shut your mouth! You should be fed to the dragons!” Aurora yelled crouching in pain.
“He is right, my dearest. We must wait until my son is born. Finally, I’ll have a lawful heir,” Lord Morten said breathing heavily and reclining on the pillows.
“I hate the little monster already! I despise him! He has taken away my perfect body and my pleasure!” Aurora screamed.
“Do calm yourself, Lady Aurora! You must wait!”
“How long?” she barked at the physician.
“Just three months until childbirth and one more for you to recover,” he explained.
“Four months? I can’t stand it! Morten, feed him to the dragons! Find another physician who tells me what I want to hear!” Aurora sat on the floor, exhausted.
“Any other physician would say the same, my Lady,”
“Let’s wait, my dearest! It will be worth it,”
Aurora yelled out a curse, got up and went away, helped by the maids.
“You are a loyal servant and shall be richly rewarded when my son is born. Do whatever it takes to protect the child, even if it means dragging us away from each other by force. Me and my lovely Aurora tend to get carried away. We can’t help it, I’m afraid,” Lord Morten sighed.
The physician bowed and paced out of the chamber. The following months of summer went by with him patrolling around his Lord’s chamber and ripping Aurora from him every time she visited her husband. The Lord recovered, and felt more powerful than ever. His fire caused him such pain that even the Strong water could not ease it.
He was also enraged to find out - Thilians along with other islanders were planning to attack him in his own home. Morten’s spies managed to inform him of the forming fleet. Let them come, Morten thought. Their little ships could do nothing to the forces of Autumna, and himself. With Morten’s new power he shall drown them like helpless puppies, and then - he’ll make the lake disappear! Everything would turn out perfect - his impeccable wife will give birth to a strong baby boy and the three of them shall reign over the newly made Kingdom of Autumna.
Two months had nearly passed, summer was in its prime - hot and heavy the days passed with Lord Morten swimming in the ice-cold pool, drinking and fighting the pain. Nothing would help. There was only one remedy…
The physician was awakened by a loud knock on his door in the middle of the night. Not the first time.
“Come, sir! Come quick! It’s much worse than ever! She tricked the guards!”
The physician pulled on his trousers and ran barefoot through the dark hallways of the castle. The servant led him to the pool hall. Frightened maids and servants ran in and out the hall.
Loud screams resounded through the castle; this time those were cries of pain not pleasure.
The pool hall was illuminated by candles, their reflections flickered on the stirred black surface.
Lady Aurora laid in the shallow end of the pool half naked, she crouched and shrieked overtaken by the pain of the early labour.
The physician jumped into the water to examine her state. She was bleeding heavily, and the many burns on her skin were more than enough to reveal the reason for her poor state; obviously she and Lord Morten had finally done it! And the pool did not protect Lady Aurora from the flames, or from the brutality of the act. The physician had no doubt both enjoyed themselves immensely, but the outcome wasn’t pleasant at all. Lady Aurora’s pregnancy had been in danger many times, but she would not listen!
“I shall need two maids to assist me!” The physician yelled. All the while, Lord Morten stood in the shadows of the hall, he had no courage to stand beside Aurora.
Despite Lord Morten’s ponderings, all turned out far from perfect. Lady Aurora nearly died, only a miracle and the physicians hard work saved her life. The child, born a month early and in an excruciating labour, was weak, it did not cry and it struggled to breath at first, but what Lord Morten found to be the worst misfortune - it was a girl.
Tiny little frogling, he said frowning; she had skinny legs and arms, pale and with an estranged look in her amber-coloured eyes.
“She looks like Herki, the bastard,” Morten said spitefully, observing the child. A foul thought crossed his vile mind - was the child even his? Could it be Aurora had betrayed him with the bastard? Impossible! She didn’t leave the castle after their wedding. But maybe she was impregnated by Herki before she married Morten? That would explain the early childbirth. Morten turned away from the little creature.
The physician, however, was lucky enough to find an Autumnian High-born woman to nurse the new born. She had recently given birth to a healthy boy. The woman was allowed to join the court with her son.
Aurora couldn’t nurse the child. Pale and barely alive she laid in bed staring at the ceiling for days. She did not want to see the child, she refused to speak.
“How long will it take for her to recover?” Morten asked the physician.
“Lady Aurora’s full recovery will take at least two months,”
“I can’t wait that long! The pain is getting worse!” Lord Morten exclaimed. The physician rolled his eyes behind his Lord’s back; the perverted Dragonling thought solely about his own well-being.
Soon enough rumours about Lord Morten returning to his old ways reached every corner of the castle. The nightly revelry had resumed, and the bored, dirty souls of the court were pleased to reunite with their vile Lord again…
The physician did everything in his power for the baby to survive, although neither her mother, nor her father showed any concern about child. It might even seem they wished for the child to die. Yet the little one stubbornly clinged on to life.
Lord Morten’s fire was insatiable - the ladies of court were left badly burned and wounded after the first nightly feasts. One even died. Still none of them could truly satisfy him. He smoked Snakegrass constantly, he drank like a madman and slept with every woman in sight; with all that the pain was not completely settled. Only Aurora could ease his suffering, but she was laying lifeless in bed, lost all her spunk and strength.
***
Aurora’s feeble footsteps came nearer the Winter garden. She was supported by two maids. A few weeks had passed since the childbirth. She could barely stand up straight, but Aurora had to see… She wished to find out if the rumours were true. Although her heart had always been cold, Morten’s reunion with his previous lovers stung her chest like a thorn.
There he was, laying in the daybed amongst the lusciously blooming southern plants, colourful birds chirping in the golden cages and giant dark butterflies flapping their velvet wings. Lord Morten was taking pleasure with one of the girls, hopping on top of her like a wound-up toy, without any sign passion or pleasure.
“What a… pathetic sight…” Aurora said, drawing deep breaths.
The Lord rolled off the girl and stared at Aurora’s pale face with sincere fear in his eyes.
“Dearest! You’re feeling well enough to walk? Should you be out of bed?” He asked apologetically.
“I had to… see… with my own eyes…”
“We were never bound by loyalty! You encouraged me to take pleasure as I wish, remember?”
Aurora smirked.
“I said… if she’s worthy… of you… is this slut worthy? Is she… better than me?”
Morten gave the girl a quick glance.
“Of course not! None of them can compare to you. But you must understand - the fire… I need some kind of relief!”
“I hope… you feel... satisfied now…”
Aurora fainted, the maids could hardly support her. Morten jumped out of the daybed with his robe loosely tied around him and held Aurora in his arms. Even as she was now - pathetic, weak, unable to satisfy him, she was the only one he admired. The only one he had ever loved.
“I was wrong. Only you can satisfy me, Dearest,” His fiery breath whispered in her ear.
Aurora opened her eyes.
“I will never… forgive…. or forget… you shall never have me again… I curse you to burn forever…” she fainted once more. Lord Morten frowned, but still carried her to the chamber and laid his wife gently on the bed.
“You’ll calm down. We need each other, Dearest. Soon enough I will become a High King over the biggest Kingdom in the world and you shall be my only Queen,” Morten whispered, but Aurora did not hear him. He kissed her pale lips, burning them. She moaned but did not wake up.
Even after Aurora had witnessed his fall, Morten still went back to his pursuits of relief.
***
Aurora sat in the sail boat. It was late in the evening when she commanded the servants to escort her to the lake. She expressed a wish to sale in one of the castle’s boats.
As soon as they were far enough from the coast of Autumna, Aurora stood up. She wore a stunning red dress, her golden locks weaved in the soft breeze. Stars shone above and below, both in the sky and in the mirror of the lake.
“What a lovely night to die!” She exclaimed, “Tell Morten… that he shall never have me… I curse him… to feel his guts burning for me… every single day he has to live!” And with these words Lady Aurora fell into the lake and disappeared. The horrified servants followed, but couldn’t find her even after several hours of searching in the dark water. Trembling with fear, they returned to the shore of Autumna, and rushed to deliver the dreadful news to their Lord.
***
The morning rose bright and sunny on the coast of Thilia. Who would’ve guessed that a day of war had begun? The tall white ships awaited to bring death to Autumnians, sailing across the vast lake.
Luke and his father stood on the deck of a blazing white and gold-trimmed ship, Herki was still on the shore saying farewell to Ulise. Both stood locked in a lengthy embrace. Herki kissed her, burning her lips once more, then he kissed her round stomach - the labour was expected soon.
“I hope it’s a girl. Then she’ll look like you and I’ll be as twice as happy,” Herki said.
“We’ll find out soon. I’ll be waiting for you,”
“Don’t wait up long. It may take a while. You need a lot of rest,” Herki embraced her once more.
“If we don’t meet again…”
“We will! No matter where, but we will be together,” Ulise interrupted him. Herki nodded. He got onto the ship looking back at her and waving. Anaish stood nearby Ulise. Luke took her with him to Thilia for the time of the battle. Both Luke and Anaish still hoped to return to their shack on the Snakeling island, for it was the place where they found happiness like never before.
The fleet began its war-bound journey with the West wind blowing in their sails. Lord Merush sailed on a dark Snakeling ship - Herki had not forgiven his and Crane’s betrayal, although the latter had survived and was brought to Thilia, because she refused to stay behind.
“It seems the old scumbag is not coming out to greet us!” Luke exclaimed looking through the spyglass. The coast of Autumna was peacefully slumbering, no sign of life appeared on the pier, except for some servants rushing away from a black sailboat, to run into the town.
“Morten’s probably still asleep,” Herki replied. The fresh breeze stroked his coal-black hair as he stood in front of the ship, stately and magnificent; all the crew looked at him amazed - indeed, the Lord of the Lake was leading them into the battle today.
Swiftly they approached the shore of Autumna and still there was no sign of resistance.
“Could this be a trap?” Luke asked Herki. They saw no one closing in on them from behind; all of the Autumnian ships and boats swayed peacefully by the docks.
“Well, I think it’s high time for Morten to wake up. Let us bid him “Good morning”! Lord Hadrian smirked. The cannons were ready, aiming both at the Autumnian ships and furthermore at the High tower of the Wizard’s castle. After Hadrian’s command, they would fire with deafening blasts. The Autumnian ships sank one by one. The coastal guards and some soldiers ran around the docks, but still they would not form any kind of counter-attack.
The next cannonballs flew at the black castle. The tower was well-built, it did not give in easily, but after continuous bombarding it caved in. Lord Hadrian commanded to aim at the castle, to avoid unnecessary killing of common Autumnians.
“What is Morten up to?! We’re destroying his home!”
“Father, maybe Aurora has finally come to her senses and murdered the scoundrel for us?” Luke pondered.
“I doubt it, Luke. To me Aurora died the minute she married that man,” Lord Hadrian grunted.
“Let’s not underestimate my father. I bet he has something special in store for us,” Herki thought out loud.
They soon found out, Herki was right. A noise rose from the east behind the castle. Six dragons ascended and flew toward the fleet.
“Just as we expected. But why so late though? We brought down all of his ships and half of Morten’s castle,” Luke shrugged.
Indeed, they were prepared for the fire. Skilled archers were aiming at the beasts’ vulnerable bellies, shooting large spears from giant crossbows on the ships.
As the beasts approached breathing flames, Herki commanded the water to rise an extinguish the fire, archers shot at them, the air filled with battle cries. Morten wasn’t riding on any of the dragons, all the riders were Autumnian soldiers.
Herki could not drown the fire of all six at once, the fleet suffered the loss of many ships. Herki was also busy saving the men jumping into the lake to escape the burning vessels.
Despite their loss, the fleet succeeded - the archers hit all the dragons, but one. Two fell down on the town surrounding the castle, crashing most of it to ruins. Two fell into the lake. One sank some ships of the fleet under its weight. One flew away shaking off its rider; Red was as powerful as he was cowardly. The treacherous beast flew to the far North coast of Autumna lake.
The remaining third of the fleet cheered - they moved closer to victory; now all they had to do was slay Lord Morten and the lake shall be free from the threat he posed.
They came nearer to the docs, suddenly the wind shifted - it moved from the East and along with it, dark storm clouds rolled over the land of Autumna toward the fleet. And under the clouds they saw a dark figure of a man approaching the lake. He carried no arms, he wasn’t shielded by bodyguards or legions of soldiers as he should have been. Lord Morten came alone and unarmed. Although his posture was stately and his attire - regal, there appeared to be a strange notion of weakness and apathy in his stride. All could see and sense it. He didn’t stop at the end of the docks, with an estranged look in his dark eyes, Morten stepped on the water of the lake and walked on its surface with the lake holding his every footstep up. His magic was frightening and powerful.
The archers were tensely aiming at him, waiting for Lord Hadrian’s gesture to fire. It would be almost too easy to take down the approaching man.
“Hold your fire! Maybe he means to negotiate. We have the upper hand, he’s at our mercy now,” Herki said and jumped into the lake toward his father.
“Be careful, Herks! It’s probably one of his tricks!” Luke yelled to his friend.
“What do you want, Morten?! Surrender at once!” Herki said harshly, standing face to face with his father on the surface of the lake. Storm clouds rumbled above their heads.
“Give her back!” Lord Morten said, with his teary eyes looking through Herki. He didn’t seem to comprehend the situation.
“What?”
“Give her back, please! I don’t care if she’d slept with you, and don’t care if the child is your bastard. Just give her to me safe and sound,” He begged quietly. Herki had never seen Morten in this kind of a state. Unexpectedly Herki felt a strange sympathy toward the hurt monster, vaguely sensing the reason of his devastation.
“What is he muttering about? Have you lost the remains of your drunken mind, Morten?” Lord Hadrian yelled, but Morten didn’t even hear him.
“They said, she jumped into the lake at night. She cursed me to burn for her…” Morten’s voice was barely hearable.
“Aurora jumped into the lake? We didn’t take her, father,”
“Then she is on one of those damn islands. Give her to me now, or I’ll wipe them clear of all!”
Lord Hadrian raised his hand once more to alert the archers. But Herki shook his head looking back at him.
“Aurora is not on the islands. I was watching over the lake near Thilia, nobody approached. If Aurora had jumped into the lake…” Herki explained watching every move on Morten’s face.
“No… she’s alive. I just need to find her. Will you help me? You swim in the lake all the time…” father had an insane expression in his eyes.
“Alright, I will help you,” Herki agreed, he turned to the ships, “give us some time! If he’s up to something I will take care of it. The battle in the water was ours to fight anyway,”
Lord Hadrian frowned furiously - it was a clear shot! A shameful way to lose the chance to get rid of their enemy.
Both Herki and Morten dived. They searched for Aurora swimming up and down, coming up for air. Until finally Herki rose with a red burden in his arms. He made the lake carry him to Morten. Aurora laid lifeless in Herki’s arms with her perfect skin white as snow and her burned lips still blood-red. As Herki approached Morten, the latter did not scream, no! He moaned quietly, but Herki could feel his father’s heart breaking before his eyes. The monster was slayed without a single shot.
Unwillingly Morten took the precious burden from Herki’s hands. Tears flowed down Morten’s wet cheeks with his eyes wide-open in silent despair.
Morten made the lake carry him back to the docks. Herki observed him carefully. As soon as Lord Morten laid Aurora’s body on the wooden surface, he broke down in a horrifying scream; giant waves rose against the ships, throwing them around like wooden toys. Herki could slow the waves down, but not stop them - Morten’s power was much stronger than his, and even worse - Lord Morten was not in control of his actions. He didn’t attack the fleet. He mourned.
Lord Morten grabbed his head crouching and howled insanely, the waves broke even more ships. Herki did what he could. He turned back and yelled,
“Retreat! Retreat! Fall back! Go to Thilia, take Ulise and run to the far West coast of the lake until I hold him back! Run!”
Lord Hadrian and the rest of the fleet listened; they turned back the ships and sailed away with the East wind driving them onward quickly. They were no match to the giant waves shielding Morten, and throwing the ships around.
A thunderstorm erupted. Morten screamed and cursed, overtaken by both grief and burning pain of the fire - more ferocious than ever before. Enormous waves chased the ships, Herki fought them with all his might.
Luke gave Herki one last look.
“Brother!” Luke screamed through the storm.
“I will save you my brother, no matter what!” Herki shouted back, swimming between the clashing waves.
***
Luke ran frantically to the castle of Thilia as soon as he set foot on the island.
Ulise, Anaish and Crane boarded the ship, and every islander who was afraid for his life was welcomed on the last ships of the fleet. Luke ran into the garden and ripped out the young linden trees to take with him; he had an inexplicable feeling it would be the last time he‘d see the linden trees of Thilia island.
“Father, are you not coming?” He asked when Lord Hadrian said farewell to his son, standing on the shore. He was accompanied by a crowd of islanders.
“Thilia island is my home - I shall end my days here, if such is my fate,”
“We’ll come back when Herki finishes Morten off! I’ll return!” Luke shouted from the white-and-golden ship.
They sailed for many hours, all the while the lake was restless, giant waves nearly overpowered the ship. A fiery red sunset tore the storm clouds like a bloody dagger, when Luke’s ship finally came near the blackwood forest covered West shore of lake Autumna.
Luke commanded to bring Ulise, Anaish and the islanders to the shore in life boats as quick as possible.
He stood on the West shore with Ulise, Anaish, and Crane.
“As long as the lake stays where it is, Herki lives,” Luke said staring at the rampaging waters. The waves grew higher and higher, rain and wind hit their faces. And then it began. The lake ascended.
“No, no! Herks, no! My brother! No! Stop!” Luke yelled, desperately raising his hands toward the lake, but he could not stop its rising.
“There is nothing more dangerous than a wounded dragon,” said Crane.
The giant field of water rose like a restless cloud, slowly but steadily. It flew up high above their heads with Ulise and Luke crying uncontrollably. It shone ghastly red in the light of the setting sun. Then the lake moved East, revealing the dirty, muddy ground. It was a wasteland, it had no beauty. A mangled kingdom of sorrow. The lake fell down into the sea far in the east, and the never-ending sea swallowed it whole.
“He lives no more. I shall join him wherever he is,” Ulise said before she collapsed.
***
Herki fought the waves again and again. They clashed against his body nearly crushing it; Morten had lost his mind - he stood on the deck, shouting,
“The lake took her from me, the lake shall pay for it! I will destroy you, Autumna lake!”
“It’s not the lake’s fault, father!” Herki cried, but the storm drowned down his voice. Morten attempted to raise the vast waters, Herki held the lake down, their forces collided, but Morten’s grief was stronger. By sunset Herki had lost all his strength, effortlessly fighting the demise of his beloved lake. Morten began to raise the water up and it obeyed his will. Herki couldn’t fight anymore.
“The lake shall be reborn one day, as long as my blood lives…” Herki whispered.
He gave into the lake, Herki submerged under the surface, releasing all the air from his exhausted lungs one last time. He stayed trapped inside the flying Lake, until the water flowed into his lungs and drowned his fire forever, relieving him from the burning pain of the wretched flames. The Lord and the Lake had become one. His body fell down on the wet, muddy ground as the lake flew to the East, where Morten made it fall into the sea.
The storm raged above the newborn land. Morten jumped on the dirty ground. His pathetic, wet footsteps slapped as he stomped forward.
“Damned be the land! Damned be the land of Autumna, I curse you! Endlessly shall you mourn, the land of Forever Autumn! Damned be Thilia island, which gave me my sweetest heartache, thou name shall be cursed on this land and forgotten, the souls dwelling upon it will suffer until they hear the untold name once more. Cursed be the Snakeling island - your wisdom shall fade, your sons die out before your eyes… cursed be…” Morten’s voice broke down in loud cries, he fell to his knees upon the muddy land.
Herki laid on the dirty ground with his eyes closed. Cold raindrops hit his handsome face. He did not wake from the vile winds blowing in his wet hair. Nothing could wake him up. The lake was dead.
Epilogue
The land of Autumna indeed became the largest kingdom ever seen. The Autumnians inhabited it. They rose in numbers, but not in virtue or wisdom. The Damned land made them harsh, vile and crude. A swampland was no place for delicate, kind souls.
Lord Morted held a funeral for both Aurora and Herki. Aurora’s tomb he worshiped every day; Herki’s grave was forgotten, covered in overgrown thorns and weeds. Lord Morten indeed suffered a fate worse than death - the fire he felt could not be drowned by anything, not even the strongest Snakegrass or booze, nor the most passionate lovers. Aurora had taken away his only remedy, her revenge was cruel; Lord Morten spent his days and nights tortured by pain, always drunk and mostly ignorant of his kingdom and his daughter. Power meant nothing to him, and the land of Autumna he despised. Dark creatures overtook the swampland – giant, poisonous lizards, wolf-like monsters, hungry swamp pools and many more.
The Snakelings with Lord Merush withstood the death of the lake, though the curse struck them harshly - they lost their power to become snakes at will and their numbers decreased with every generation, until there was only a small village left amongst the wetlands.
The Thilia island became a ghastly place, with spirits of Lord Hadrian and the rest of the islanders trapped in the castle until the return of those who would know the name of the cursed island.
With Cranes help, Ulise gave birth to a healthy girl with Thilian-blue eyes and coal-black hair. She was born on the night after Herki’s death. Ulise could not overcome her grief, she died after some days on their campsite in the Blackwood forest. Luke and Anaish took the child and raised her as their own. They had a son and a daughter, both born healthy and handsome despite Anaish’s blindness.
All the survived Thilians moved into the land, until they found a beautiful valley with a clear lake slumbering amidst the blooming meadows. Luke planted the golden linden trees there and called it Thilia valley; it became the home of golden-haired, blue-eyed Thilians, the ones who came from the sun. The blooming linden trees spread their sweet-scented branches over the land once more.
Lord Lukean never overcame the grief of losing his friend and brother; he always wore black. Luke sang songs of water lilies and an isle of gold-and-green to his children, he sang of Thilians who sailed to Blackwood realm in a golden boat and brought the linden trees to the valley.
Autumna, however, remained under the Wizard’s curse for a thousand years, waiting for a new Wizard to release it. Lord Morten’s dynasty continued until the last High King of his kin, Damian the First, died young without leaving any lawful heirs. The flames of Dragonlings were drowned by Thilian blood blending with the Autumnian. The power over water of Lord Morten’s kin faded, until the rulers of Autumna began to despise and fear all things magical, but the lustful, passionate nature and love for pleasure remained within them.
Yes, even a bit more. I know the ending is dark, BUT it was necessary to install the next parts of the trilogy. If all goes well, next Wednesday I’ll start sharing book 2 “The Heiress of the Lake”, taking place about 18 years after The Death of the Lake. The third book and the Last Daughter takes place after those 1000 years. Thank you for reading, Jeanine!❤️
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