Excalibur

The Haunting Past

THE UNDERWATER CASTLE stood tall at the bottom of Lake Glass.

The small abode mimicked the style of old Welsh castles. Made of stone, the castle was two storeys high with a keep on the motte, a curtain wall, and seven tall towers. The stained glass windows depicting fae from all walks of life were crafted by Tempest. She adored the way they looked under a watery film.

So did her little friends.

Surrounding the castle were rows of vibrant flowers known to attract the fae. They were enchanted to live underwater. There were foxgloves, saffrons, bluebells, forget-me-nots, hollyhocks, lilacs, lilies, marigolds, pansies, and peonies. They bloomed year round, thriving under not only Tempest's care and love, but the pixies and faeries as well.

Small balls of white light illuminated the stone paths embedded into the bottom of the lake. Tempest landed with grace, dragging the two men behind her. Luscious clumps of clover, ferns, and thyme tickled her bare feet. The clear water shook as buzzing bees and twittering hummingbirds zipped to and fro. Colorful butterflies dipped in pastels trailed behind at a slower pace. The fish, as per usual, were unamused with the little waves disturbing their languid swim.

It wasn't always like this with past protectors choosing to keep their domain strictly as it was. But when it was Tempest's turn to take up the mantle, she realized something important hundreds of years ago. She loved the forest too much. If she was to live here for the rest of her life, then she had to bring pieces of her home with her.

That included flowers, herbs, animals, and, aha, the little ones.

Tempest ignored Silver's hold on her wrist and the squeezing. She felt his lungs were ready to burst yet she didn't increase her pace. Nor did she allow him the ability to breathe underwater.

The other man, the Pendragon, remained in an enchanted state. Much like the sleeping beauty curse his blasted ancestor created.

Small faeries peeked through the wild areas of the garden full of shrubs and bushes. They lingered behind ancient statues and hummingbirds in bird baths. Faeries were curious but not so much that they would run out to investigate. They liked to watch, to hide behind their skirts and observe before running away to gossip.

The pixies, on the other hand, were a whole different breed.

Too mischievous for their own good, they zoomed out of their little caves, knocking rocks loose. Glittering pink bird houses trembled when they tumbled out in a rush. Dollhouse sized furniture slowly sank yet not one pixie moved to collect them. Toadstools and mushrooms served as seats. One by one every pixie in the vicinity plopped down to watch the trio pass.

They were youthful in appearance and dressed in green dresses, shirts, or pants. All loose fitting just like the pointed nightcaps they rarely removed. They didn't wear shoes, seeing no point when pixies had wings that flared outwards like petals.