Midsummer

The Old Lake

"Guard it with your life."

The scene was hazy, but familiar to the nøkk. In front of him stood three women, all beautiful youths whose eyes and smile would normally be full of laughter. But they were serious today. They handed him the shimmering gold, an artifact practically glowing with power. Revulsion crept through his veins as he held it.

"What if I fail? You said they're going to try to kill me for it."

"Then at least you will not have to find out. You are its guardian. The last defense we have against any and everything. We know you do not want to have it. That's why you must protect it."

"I can't be the only one like that. There must be a safeguard."

"We have yet to find one."

Monday inhaled deeply, sighing at the memory. He didn't know why it'd come upon him so suddenly. He'd never dreamed about their exchange before– he hoped that meant they'd return. Agreeing to take up the sisters' position had brought him only trouble and... well, he didn't want to admit it, but he'd grown lonely. Sure, he wasn't a very social person. The only one he ever paid visits to was his brother. But a century alone had worn on him. He couldn't even leave to see Eileifr–he couldn't leave his lake at all. It'd become his prison, too.

The Rhine-maids had had each other. The three sisters played and laughed with each other for decades and still guarded it. The gold had not taken over their lives. But Monday, he shared his lake with none.

It was just him, and the silent water lilies that floated past.

"I never thought I'd want a frog," he muttered, voice gravelly and cracking from disuse. "Just one, for company. Something that could answer me back. Like a bird... I'd love a bird. Some clever little crow or raven. They don't even fly past me anymore. What I'd do for the sight of... of anything. Just someone to talk with."

He stared out, glowing eyes piercing the early morning fog. There was not so much as a breeze. Just him and his garden, as it had been for years. There was no living person anywhere.

Only the skeletons of failed quests in the past.

He didn't knew how long he'd been floating there that day, waiting for some brazen hero or other to come sweeping in. He remembered great people and great villains, humbugs and nobodies. But though he saw them clearly in his mind's eye, no one new came to join their ranks. It was, as it had been, extremely isolating.

Extremely lonely.

"Doesn't anyone want to rule the world anymore? I can't be doing my job this well," he mused. "Even when everyone was scared to go near me, there was always at least one fool who tried anyway. There's always been one. What's changed? Those three made it sound like I'd be under attack constantly. Not... like this."

As the sun rose, he floated there, waiting. He felt a cold wave rising in his chest, constricting. He was desperate now, in a way he'd never even known existed. All he'd ever wanted was his lake and solitude. But not for centuries.

Not forever.

And even more so, he was worried about his brother...

The day wore on as many before it. Complete silence, except the trickle of little waves as Monday swam around. He'd usually play his violin, when the days grew long and empty, but today he was compelled to watch. All day, he scouted the lake, dissolving, reforming, changing form. But no matter what he did, he was alone.