Of Falsehoods

She is all too familiar with what the legends make of her, with the heinous slander that monstrous men spewed to cover up their own rot. A shrewd and jealous temptress who loves nothing but power or, on the contrary, a guileless and powerless victim of the lustful old fool Merlin’s advances are her main depictions. Sometimes there is even the occasional casting of her as a motherly figure to Lancelot, the White Knight. Glaucia could bear being associated with the aforementioned lies, but she could find no shred of forgiveness for those painting her as his jailor or, by all the Gods, murderer. She would have never killed Merlin.

           While the exact year it had happened had long since fled her memory, Glaucia is certain she was barely out of adolescence when she was trapped in that accursed lake with bindings forged by Vulcan himself, at Juno’s spiteful insistence. Her father, Xanthos, had greatly angered the Queen of the Gods during the Trojan War by attacking and nearly drowning the Greek hero Achilles. To her mind, the warrior deserved far worse for his insolence of clogging their home river with the corpses of fallen Trojans, but the wife of Jove clearly did not see it that way. Thus, after the Craftsman had literally boiled her father out of combat, Juno demanded Glaucia’s imprisonment in order to deter him from striking out at the Achaeans again. It was supposed to be temporarily, to only last until the war ended, but the Gods had then promptly forgotten about her and so, the punishment was not lifted. After all, why should they have recalled? What worth could an unknown, weak nymph like her have for those who ruled the Universe? She knows better than to expect pity, but she doubts the ancient, poisonous bitterness will ever leave her.

           In the early years of her entrapment Glaucia was convinced that her father would, eventually, come to rescue her. She used to spend the better part of her days making up acceptable potential reasons for his atrocious tardiness: the battles were stretching on endlessly, or perhaps, he was not told where she had been taken and was blindly searching everywhere for her. A few decades down the road, she even foolishly began worrying that some grave injury had befallen Xanthos and left him unable to travel to retrieve her. It took an embarrassingly long time for Glaucia to come to terms with the fact that no one was coming, that her father, like most Gods, cared very little for the fate of his daughter and likely never gave her a second thought. She alternated between pitifully weeping and vengefully cursing her miserable existence, for months on end down in the cold, dark bowels of Lake Avalon. The madness, brought on by utter desolation, was starting to claw deeper at the gates of her sanity with each passing moment and, with no reprieve in sight, she opted to succumb to a death-like slumber to while away the burden of eternity. Glaucia would end up considering the lonely, uninterrupted age of sleep one of the happiest experiences of her life up until that point and consequently, she was very reluctant to properly awaken when the birth of some tremendous being rudely disturbed her rest. She was determined to fall back asleep the second it stopped throwing around waves of world-shattering energy but alas, it seemed in no hurry to quiet down. Glaucia would be lying if she claimed that she didn’t wish, at the height of her frustrated rage, for someone to just end the blasted tantrum through whatever means necessary. However, once she calmed herself down a notch, a rare feeling of curiosity bloomed inside her. Was it possible that a new god was born, or perhaps, a half-mortal offspring of one? For the first time in eons, she swam upwards from the depths until she broke the surface and intently surveyed the banks that surrounded the lake. Glaucia had to admit, as far as prisons go, hers was exquisite; sturdy, green oaks, as well as tall and narrow-looking poplars crowded in a dense circle around the boundaries of the water. Pure white and cheerful yellow little flowers could be seen nestled at the bottom of their trunks, while a soft and vibrant carpet of fresh grass and moss covered the remaining area. Shrugging off her awe at the surprising beauty of this place, she saw nothing that could grant her a clue about the nature or whereabouts of the mysterious entity and, resigned to her perpetual boredom, she submerged back into the lake.

           Despite the fact that the being had persisted in greatly inconveniencing the entire supernaturally-inclined population in the vicinity for the next 4 whole years, Glaucia was yet to encounter the elusive creature in person. At this point, she was fairly certain it would never happen. And thus she was wholly unprepared for the day when, after emerging from the waves, she glimpsed a small shape harassing the frogs that dwelled near the swallow parts of the lake. Now, nymphs are not usually fond of seeking out strangers, regardless of their size, but Glaucia could not help seeing this as a potential opportunity for freedom. She decided that the best course of action would be to discreetly observe the inhuman toddler and if it proved harmless enough, attempt to interact with it. Unfortunately, all the cautious planning would be for naught, because the child-like entity took one look in her general direction and immediately spotted the top of her head peeking out from the water. To her surprise, it didn’t try to attack her, or run away screaming, opting to just stand there, staring. Glaucia briefly contemplated hiding away whilst patiently waiting for another chance to undertake this affair with fewer risks, alas, she could not afford to appear scared. What if the creature could do her harm? Vowing that she will be brave no matter what, she rose to her full height and came as close as she dared to the shore, then, with as even a voice as she could muster, she called towards it “Who are you? What are you doing here?”. Glaucia paused for a moment and, when no answer came, continued “Are you lost?”. Once again, it stayed deathly quiet. A trickle of fear coiled around her spine, causing her thoughts to clash together in an incomprehensible jumble. Fighting to stay calm, she asked “Do you need help? Is someone else here with you?”. She fervently started to pray to whoever may listen, to allow that her life would not get any worse than it already was. The entity just blinked its muddy green eyes owlishly at her for a few seconds and then, in a barely-there voice, said “Is your name Nima...nimi...”. It stopped abruptly and frowned in deep concentration, before carrying on, with a endearingly stubborn expression plastered on its little face “Nim-ou-ehh?”. Glaucia most certainly was not; however, this might prove to be a valuable bargaining chip, so she decided to try to gather as much information as possible “Depends, why are you asking?”. Putting on a believable all knowing act was definitely challenging, considering that she was a very poor actress, but she apparently managed it well enough to convince the child. It smiled brightly at her and shouted excitedly “The three ladies were right, the black birds did lead me to you!”. Glaucia felt herself break out in cold sweat at the words, she could hazard a guess at who the women were and it did not bode well for her. The bird comment was also deeply disturbing, as she could think of no benevolent god who appeared in that form. Attempting to cover up the undiluted dread that coursed through her veins, she questioned him sweetly “And why is it, that you were looking for me?”. The creature’s enthusiasm withered instantly and shyly avoiding her gaze, it flushed bright red in embarrassment “Sorry. My name is Merlin and I have magic. They said that you can help me”. Glaucia had no idea how she was supposed to accomplish that, but, since the Fates had already renamed her Nimue and sent the boy her way, she had little choice but to try. “I see. Well then, Merlin, why don’t you come here and tell me what you know about the animals that live in waters?”. Had the toddler been old enough to possess a shred of common sense, he would have instantly suspected her of wanting to lure him to a watery grave. Alas, he was far too young for caution and trustingly walked straight into the lake and held up his arms so Glaucia would pick him up. She acquiesced, and after Merlin confessed to not knowing much, she pointed to a green specimen with dark brown spots and explained “That is commonly called a marsh frog, but I like to refer to it as Juno”. She just couldn’t resist making a small jab at the Goddess who ruined her life. “They mostly eat insects, like flies or mosquitoes and can be found in almost any pond or lake”. The tiny sorcerer was listening intently, nodding along as if he was being told some priceless secret. Thus, the first of many afternoons to come flew by, with her using her powers to call forth various aquatic creatures, so that Merlin could see them and then proceeding to teach him all about them.  

           The child began to come to her for lessons every day, without fail. As he got older, Glaucia started to talk of more difficult subjects; from medicinal herbs that grow by rivers, to the differences in chemical composition that could occur in various sources of water. She was giving him a lecture on the latter, when she noticed the 11 year old boy wasn’t paying her the slightest bit of attention “Line? Is something bothering you?”. He gave her a dazed, uncomprehending look and then weakly shook his head no. Merlin was the only company she had had in eons, and loath as she was to admit it, she loved him dearly. Glaucia simply could not bear the thought that he might be unwell, so she persisted “What is it, my darling enchantment? You know I’ll help you in any way I can.”. The boy tried to hide his face behind his russet tresses for a moment, before he lifted his anxious eyes to hers and asked in a hesitant whisper “Nimue, do you...?”. Merlin faltered for a second, then, he continued in a slightly stronger tone “Do you know who my parents are? Or were? The ladies refuse to say.” Nimue’s heart broke a little at the anguish she heard in his voice. She pondered the question, but, while she strongly suspected that he was related to Venus, either directly or due to some ancestry owed to Aeneas, Glaucia wasn’t sure. And thus she told him the truth “I am afraid I do not. I can’t stray far from Lake Avalon and I wasn’t present at your birth. I wish I had a better answer to give you”. The child’s shoulders sagged in disappointment, seeming for all the world ready to burst into tears “They just didn’t want me, did they?”. She helplessly held out a hand towards him in an offer of comfort and Merlin nearly knocked them both over with the strength of his embrace. Sobs that spoke of severe heartbreak brutally shook his frame; Glaucia immediately began stroking his hair with loving strokes in the vain hope of easing his pain. The poor boy cried like this for a good half an hour before slowly starting to settle down and with a final tight hug, he stepped back wiping at his puffy eyes. She was looking on with great concern, privately wondering how she could possibly cheer him up, when Merlin abruptly lifted his head and vowed solemnly, with unyielding resoluteness “I swear, by all the Gods, I will find a way to get you free from the lake. I don’t care what it takes”. Nimue studied her student intently for a few heartbeats before nodding in acceptance and responding “If anyone can, Line, I have no doubt it will be you”. Then she smiled warmly and, in order to distract him from his sadness, suggested “Why don’t we take a break from learning today and have a little swimming contest? I’ll even throw in a generous head start”. Merlin still seemed sorrowful, but he surprised her by promptly plunging into the lake and starting to cut through the water as fast as he could. She found herself laughing out loud at his antics. A couple a minutes later, Glaucia got in too and mirrored his course. She shamelessly let him win.

           Ten more years passed by in a blur, the awkward stage of adolescence was through and now, her precious boy was a fully grown man. She could not be more proud of the person he became, but she selfishly wished at times that childhood kept its hold on him just a little longer. Nimue knew, in the way all parents do, that very soon her son would go make a life for himself and would have no more need of her. She had been expecting it for quite a while and yet the dreaded day still somehow managed to come before she was ready. The three ladies told him of the golden king that would, through his interference and guidance, be born, so Merlin came by to say his goodbyes prior to leaving to go tend to the necessary preparations. Many tears had been shed, on both sides, but they ultimately parted on good terms and he promised to come back to visit her whenever he could. Over the next 2 decades she had seen him sparingly, no more than a handful of times. Sadly, he made few social calls, usually only coming by to ask her advice on how to proceed with his ward or if he was in need of help with one clever scheme or another.

           The despicable day Arthur fell at Camlann would bring about the most excruciating torture she ever had the misfortune to endure. Her Merlin suddenly appeared on the bank cradling in his arms, with heart wrenching gentleness, the body of his dearest pupil. Everything in his countenance spoke of mad, uncontrollable grief, and of guilt so consuming it drowned out any love for life left in him. He begged her, between heavy sobs, to lay the corpse to rest beneath the cold protection of Lake Avalon and she did so, without a second thought. Oh, she should have known, seen the dead glint in his eyes and refused to leave him alone, but she didn’t. Glaucia failed him utterly and she will never get the chance to tell him how much she regrets it. By the time she came back from entombing the king, her baby boy was limply floating face down on the surface of the water. Upon seeing this, she rushed over in horror, pleading with the Moirai all the while to take anything, everything else but to let her have him. Nimue dragged him to the shore and began to desperately pound his chest in an attempt to get the water out. When that didn’t work, she tried with all her might to force it out with magic. It didn’t budge. Of course it didn’t, her home river was a world away and she held no real power over any other body of water. Obtaining no results, she carefully took his face in her hands and began adoringly caressing his cheeks “It’s time to wake up, my darling enchantment. I swear I am not mad, but you need to open your eyes now, okay?”. She kept looking over his frozen features, thinking that he will start breathing again any moment now. “Line, come back. If not for your sake, than do it for mine. Please!”. Her voice failed her on the last word and she let out a heaving sob. Taking in a shuddering breath, Glaucia pulled him into her arms and set his head against her breast, beseeching him anew “You can have anything you want. Anything at all. Just live”. Receiving no answer from Merlin, she let out an ear-splitting howl that likely carried her grief across the many miles to her father. She hugged him tightly against her and pressed a wet kiss to his cold forehead before whispering despairingly “You are the greatest sorcerer to ever live. You can’t die, not like this. Please, if anyone is listening, don’t allow it. Not like this!”. Nimue let herself collapse on the ground with her child clasped to her and wept long and hard enough for the blood to dry out in her veins. She has no idea how long they laid there, perhaps merely an hour, or a day, but it might just as well have been an eternity before a vaguely familiar voice reached her “It’s time to come home, daughter”. Galucia made no move to turn around and face the speaker. “I am sorry it took me so long to find you. They told me that you ran off with some warrior and refused to return”. “And you simply didn’t bother to check” she remarked tiredly. The God came closer and sat down next to her “I thought you hated me, for not saving you from Deimachus and the whole business with the war after that”. Nimue looked mournfully at him over her shoulder “I named the baby after you, before I came back”. Xanthos seemed positively crestfallen at the words “If I could, I’d take it all back and do right by you, but I can’t. I can only promise to keep you safe from here on” he held out his hand to her. She hesitated briefly, and then grasped it.