By Sterling MZ
Camden’s armor sinks into the soaked ground, but he doesn’t dare break his stance. The Lady of the Lake stands before him on the water’s surface, shrouded in moonlight, hair flowing in expansive waves. She alone holds the authority to name the next heir who will rule Killeg; should he not be named, House Visroy will fall, and the province will descend into war.
But even with Camden’s reverence, her face remains impassive. She’s studied him for what feels like hours—perhaps it has been—before she tilts her head. “You’re a fraud.”
Her insult shakes him, but he remains determined. “My Lady, I’ve defended my country, been faithful to my betrothed since we were fourteen, never drank beyond my limits, have told no lies to anyone in House Visroy—”
“I never said you were dishonorable, Camden, only that you’re a fraud.”
Indignation clouds his judgement. He rises, ready to charge into the Lake after her, even though he would surely drown. “How dare you assume—”
“Every person who drinks from the rivers is connected to me. From Queen Lana who I named as heir, to the beggar on the street I will never meet. I know them all.” Her gaze narrows. “Even you, the fraud.”
“Show your proof.”
She tucks her chin and splays her arms wide, then steps back once, twice, more, creating space for the Lake’s water to carve out two boys in fine detail. Camden cannot mistake them even if he tried.
The boys pick up pretend swords, playfighting with one another. Slowly they turn into completely different men. The first flitters from woman to woman, party to party, neglecting his studies and disrespecting his parents. The other stands by a house that grows desolate, tending small field and counting meager earnings. Through it all, the men are inseparable.
Until the first steals away in the night, jewels in hand, leaving the second man behind to console the royal family.
“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you from Jersiah?” The Lady’s voice rises. “A descendant of the house I chose to protect Killeg.”
The water bursts into droplets, and the Lady casts her light on Camden, illuminating every wrong detail: ample scars, clunky armor, dyed hair. No amount of makeup can change his features enough to look like the man who ran away.
“The aristocrats gave the queen until the end of May to find Jersiah, but even if he was found, he’d refuse to come home. He doesn’t wish to rule.” Camden struggles to breathe in the thick, humid air. “June is tomorrow, my Lady. And you’ve already rejected his brothers from being the next heir—”
“They’re not leaders. Lodis is a man of numbers, and Tatum will die under pressure.”
“They’re out of options.”
The Lady glowers at him. “You’re aware that coming here while another family reigns with my favor is punishable by death.”
Camden only nods. He can still hear the king’s voice, begging him to go tonight in Jerisah’s place. The queen, praying that the Lady of the Lake won’t be able to tell the difference between them. Camden, thinking he could ward off wars from ruining the land he loves.
“Yet you impersonate their son instead of trying to put your own family’s name on the throne.” Her eyebrows scrunch slightly. “Why?”
Camden’s neck beads with sweat, remembering his parents screaming, his father ripping the coin pouch from his mother and throwing a lantern on the ground. The solid crack it made and the sparks that flew onto his mother’s dress before landing in the spilt oil from dinner, igniting the house aflame.
His father leaving, despite Camden’s cries.
His mother’s insatiable anger, no matter what Camden did.
His sister seeing what her future looked like, putting down her hoe, and leaving too.
How the royal Visroy family fostered Camden when he wasn’t safe in his own home. The queen showed him what a good leader does for a kingdom. The king taught him to fight. The brothers treated him as part of their family.
“I’m not their blood, but I’m of their house. Their home. When they asked me to come here in Jersiah’s place, I did so, without hesitation.” Camden steps back, lays down his sword, and kneels once again. “Should you not find favor with me to carry on in their name, then I accept my fate.”
The Lady’s expression shifts. “Take off your armor and enter the Lake.”
His plates clatter to the ground, and he wades in, uncertain. Queen Lana said he would know when he’s gained the Lady’s favor. Treading underneath her towering frame, Camden doesn’t feel favored, but more like the boy he was on the night of the fire: powerless, afraid.
She places her cold hands on his head. “Leaders are born from an understanding of pain, and desire to love and be loved.”
With one strong push, the Lady sends him down into the Lake.
Flailing kicks, desperate strokes—nothing Camden does brings him closer to the surface. The water pulls him down like a vise. He searches for the Lady, but Camden is alone, taking on water with every. Single. Drowning. Breath.
His vision blackens when he reaches the lakebed, which crumbles and cracks at his touch. He falls through a gaping hole and lands on carved stone. Water crashes down around him.
Camden coughs up the Lake then sucks in precious, precious air. He forces himself to focus and realizes the queen stands before him. The king, Lodis, Tatum, and Camden’s betrothed are slightly behind. The clothes he wore into the Lake are now blue-silver—the colors of House Visroy—and he’s grasping the arms of the throne.
Beaming with pride, the queen hands him a chalice of water. Though the last thing he wants to do is drink, he brings it to his lips. It’s thick and sweet, and goes down easy.
The Lady’s voice flows through him. “Lead with love, King Camden Visroy.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
An incredible story of sacrifice and love! Camden sounds like the kind of king I’d like.
Wonderful story showing how true kings are made, not born!
Fabulous story! He sounds like a wonderful king <3
I love this!! Can I write in King Camden on my ballot this November?
I love all the water symbolism, especially the part where it connects people from every walk of life. I got chills at the end when the last thing he wants is to take a drink but does so anyway and finds that it goes down easy.
a portrait of a man worthy of being followed…
“Leaders are born from an understanding of pain, and desire to love and be loved.” Love that line and this story! Such a beautiful piece illustrating what family is, even if it isn’t by blood, and what it means to be an honorable ruler.
It’s not where you’re from but who you are inside that counts. Great story!
Great story!! I loved how you took a legend and made it your own…