Alistair’s senses were engulfed by a magical shroud. He could neither see nor hear anything. The banquet, the guests, and even his own body faded into nothingness. There was a pressure bearing down on his forehead where Isabele had touched him. Like something was pushing against him, trying to get inside.
Open your mind.
A voice echoed inside his head like it would in a cave. It came from everywhere and nowhere, from his ears but also his own inner voice. He couldn’t tell for sure but it sounded feminine. Was this one of Isabele’s spells?
Open your mind to me.
Again it called out to him from the fog of his mind’s thoughts. Alistair couldn’t see his body, and yet he could feel a weight bearing down on him. There was no pain but instead a strange sense of urgency. The way it crashed against him like a wave was like a battering ram on a gate. Someone, or something, wanted inside.
Alistair, be not afraid.
The voice was louder now. He knew for sure that it was a woman’s voice, but it was not Isabele’s. There was no echo anymore. Each honeyed word was whispered into his ear with something akin to tenderness. Oddly, it reminded him of his mother.
Alistair felt the resistance fade from his body. It was like he finally dropped a heavy stone he didn’t know he had been carrying. The waves that once crashed against him with such weight were now cushioning him, lulling him into a deeper dream. He felt his body be wrapped in the warm embrace of something.
Open your eyes.
His vision was bathed in a golden, holy light. It pierced the fog that surrounded him and revealed that he instead stood on solid ground. Alistair looked at his hands, then the rest of his body, and was relieved to find he was in one piece. All around him the gray mist receded and revealed more of his surroundings. He had been transported to a place with untamed green grass, thick trees, and a sparkling blue lake resting in the middle of it all.
The light was still there even as the fog dissipated. It was so blinding that Alistair had to shield his eyes and look away. He was surprised, however, that it was not the sun shining down upon him but instead the lake itself producing the light. From the corner of his eye, he witnessed this pillar of brightness coalesce into the shape of something.
In a flash, the light was gone and someone stood there in its place. Alistair squinted to try and get a better look at the figure. They were more than a few paces away, there in the middle of the lake. It was a feminine form, he could tell from the way it curved in the right places. Her skin wasn’t quite the same color as his though, and he swore it was the same shade as a pear fruit. A soft green.
“Welcome, young Alistair,” she said.
Her voice had a new solidity to it. She projected it from her own lips as she stood, no hovered, above the lake there in front of him. Even with the distance between them it still felt as if she were right next to him, whispering in his ear. The words reverberated in his mind, echoed through his thoughts.
He had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. Her body wasn’t strangely misshapen or malnourished, her skin wasn’t afflicted with scars or boils from illness, and she looked as soft as a doll and yet as fit as a warrior. Dark, dripping wet hair fell almost as far as her feet. The hair served to offer her some slight modesty as it covered her ample breasts. Alistair found himself unable to look upon her nude form for too long. Not just from embarrassment but out of awe of its majesty.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she said. He could hear quiet laughter as she seemed amused with his averted gaze. “Do you know who I am?”
Alistair forced himself to swallow in an attempt to cure the dryness of his mouth. Surely this was some sort of trick or test? Maybe he had actually fallen asleep and this was all a dream. Isabele could have been having fun at his expense.
“I assure you, this is no trick. Nor is it a jest.”
His eyes widened in shock. Had she just read his thoughts? Alistair risked a glance at her, and the woman nodded.
“I can see and hear many things, even from a great distance away. And I have waited a long time to finally get to meet you.” She made a sweeping gesture with her arms. “This dreamscape is the method I have chosen in order to appear before you. My daughter serves as a temporary conduit of this power, and it has allowed me to bond our minds together. If only for a short time.”
Daughter? Then that meant the woman in front of him was none other than Her. Who else could she be? Alistair dropped to his knees and got on all fours, deeply bowing his head in a show of apology for his utter disrespect.
“I-I’m sorry milady, for not recognizing you sooner. Please forgive me. I am but a mere lowborn, a peasant. I’m not worthy,” he said as his forehead was pressed to the soft dirt.
A mere moment later he felt something soft caress the back of his head. He risked a glance and saw her, the Lady of the Lake herself, gently patting him on the back of his head. She knelt in front of him, still wearing the same loving smile from before. There was now a hint of sadness, or perhaps even pity there, twinkling in her eye.
“There’s no need for that, my dear Alistair. Raise your head and hold your chest out with pride. For you have a gift resting inside you. A gift that others have died, nay killed trying to earn.”
Every word that poured from her lips sounded as if it was part of a harmonious song, carefully constructed and enunciated for astounding effect. There was no doubt in Alistair’s mind that he was in the presence of a being with great power, a goddess. He felt compelled to do as she told him, and so he did raise his head and straighten out his back as far as it would go.
She looked down upon him from what felt like a towering height. The Lady seemed too powerful to be just a human. Where did she hail from, if she hailed from a place at all? The dark irises that stared into his soul hid within them bottomless wisdom. Before him was a being of incalculable age and intelligence that he simply could not comprehend. What could she possibly see inside that made him worthy of her grandeur?
“For you to see what I see, you must first accept your destiny,” she said, again reading his thoughts. “Are you willing to become something more, something greater than any human could ever hope to be?”
“I don’t know how,” Alistair whispered, unable to raise his voice. Her vision, her words overwhelmed him.
Unperturbed, the Lady held out her arm. “Take my hand. I will show you a hint of what could be yours, if you are brave enough to walk the path I have prepared for you.”
Alistair met her gaze and then looked down at her outstretched hand. His entire body felt suddenly heavy. Was he paralyzed by fear of the unknown? Her soft, supple hand radiated warmth and it felt impossible to deny such a heartfelt invitation. And yet, the thought of what could lie ahead did truly scare him.
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“Do not fear the unknown, for it is full of hope and wonder. Instead, fear the certainty of remaining trapped in the life you do know,” the Lady said.
For the longest time, he had come to grudgingly accept the fate of being a peasant, a servant. It was simply the fate of all lowborn, to eke out an existence within a world run by the wealthy nobility. To be presented with a choice to escape felt like an impossible gambit. And yet, a part of him always wondered, what if?
If anyone could offer him something like that, it would be a deity such as her.
Alistair felt a surge of energy, a reservoir of strength he didn’t know he had. With it he felt a sense of courage to brave the trouble of wherever this path might take him. He reached out and felt his skin brush against her open palm. An indescribable feeling of emotion, of raw energy, rushed him as they locked hands. As if something inside him began to stir from a long, dormant slumber.
“I want to go, milady,” Alistair said, his voice louder now.
The Lady of the Lake’s grin seemed to radiate in a glorious shine of approval.
“Then stand, Alistair. And walk with me.”
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On his feet, Alistair thought himself decently tall. He managed to stand taller than not only the sergeant, but his father as well. Perhaps only the chamberlain of the lord’s household could beat him, the lanky man he was. But even at full height, standing just inches from the goddess, he felt like an insect beneath her. The Lady of the Lake stood a head or two taller than him, easily. He struggled to crane his head up to meet her gaze.
She floated gently above the water’s edge. Her dainty feet lacked solid ground to stand on, yet there she was above the water’s surface all the same. His hand remained firmly in her grasp as she levitated toward the center of the lake. The Lady pulled him toward her, beckoning him forward.
“M-Milady, I can’t swim,” he said, cheeks flushed.
“You won’t need to swim, dear Alistair. Trust in me,” she said as she waited for him to follow.
Alistair looked down at his feet and then at the water in front of him. He didn’t know how to summon magic and levitate as the Lady did. Was this a test of his worthiness? He shook his head. No matter, he thought, he would trust the goddess.
Tentatively, he took one step forward. Where normally he would feel the water give way and a cold wetness seep up his boot, instead there was solid ground. There were a few ripples beneath his heel, but otherwise the liquid did not stir. Again another step, this time with both feet left on top of the water’s surface. Alistair smiled in amazement, somehow he remained dry above this magical lake.
The Lady floated beside him so that they could walk together more comfortably. Their destination seemed to be a small island in the center of the grove. On it, there was a rock that had the look of some kind of pedestal. When they reached the little island Alistair noticed something was resting upon it.
It was a grail. It had a wide basin filled to the brim with some kind of liquid that churned and twisted. The body of the receptacle was made of the most reflective silver he had ever seen, iridescent like a pearl. Jewels and gemstones of all shapes and sizes were embedded in its sides. This artifact radiated a great power. Simply being next to it made Alistair’s hairs stand on end.
“What is this, milady?” Alistair asked.
The Lady of the Lake drifted away from his side and went around the rock. There she stood behind the grail, tracing her fingers softly along the basin’s edge. In her eyes, he recognized that look of pity again and he feared that he had said something wrong.
“If only one of my daughters would have reached you sooner, Alistair. She could have taught you so much.” The Lady looked around the grove, frowning as she did. “And I’m afraid my time with you is running short.”
Alistair followed her gaze and noticed the fog had returned. It crept through to the edge of the forest and flooded the grove from every direction. Not long from now it would surely swallow up the lake and their little island. He grew anxious. Fear bubbled up in his gut as he realized this dream would soon end.
“Milady, I don’t want to leave yet.” He took a step toward her, afraid of the mist.
“Be brave, Alistair. Listen very closely. My daughter’s strength is ebbing and this connection will not last much longer. We must finish the ceremony before her body gives out.”
She beckoned him even closer and grasped his hands with hers. The Lady shined with a holy ethereal light when near the relic grail. An awesome sight to behold.
“I will have you swear the Oath of the Supplicant, so that you may take your first step on the path to becoming a paladin. If you fulfill your oath, you will one day soon drink from this holy grail and complete your transformation into a true hero. One who will protect the people of this land and root out evil wherever it may be found. Are you ready to be bound to such an oath?”
Alistair felt as if his heart would leap out of his chest any moment. Did he hear her right? Him, a Paladin of the Lady? Could a lowborn like him really be made into a hero like that? Surely if it were impossible, the Lady would never have appeared before him like this. She wouldn’t give him false hope.
This was his one chance to escape from the prison he had been born into.
“I am, milady,” Alistair said.
“Then repeat after me. ‘I swear on my life to uphold the tenets of the Code of Chivalry, that which I am to be bound to. Only death may release me from this oath that I make to the Lady of the Lake, for it is through her grace that I may be made a warrior of Good, a paladin made to find and root out Evil wherever it may threaten her domain’.”
Alistair did as she commanded, swearing on his life to become a follower of the Code of Chivalry. He never would have believed he would make such a declaration, let alone be allowed to. He knew it to be something reserved only for knights and paladins, the greatest warriors of humankind.
The Lady continued and made him swear to the ten parts of the Code. He would believe in and protect the Lady and her clergy. Those that were marked as the weak and downtrodden would have him as their stalwart defender. Alistair especially liked the sound of that. He was meant to never turn away from a fellow man in need, regardless of their station in life or the wealth they had to their name.
Alistair was to love and cherish the land from which he was born. He would never take for granted the bountiful harvest nature offered him. Any future oath or obligation he made to a lord would be carried out, so long as it did not go against the Lady’s wishes. It was a matter of personal honor to never go back on one’s word, to be honest whenever possible, and swearing to the Code of Chivalry solidified their dedication to that ideal.
Finally, he was sworn to never cower from Evil. He would make war on any who would besmirch the Lady and taint the land. He would become a champion of Good and all that is righteous, and stand opposed to injustice and Evil. Alistair’s chest swelled with a sense of pride he had not felt since he began his training as a man-at-arms at the age of fourteen. He felt as if he had joined a very exclusive guild, one of strong moral character.
As he recited the last few words, Alistair felt an intense feeling of warmth swim over him. At some point during the ceremony, he had closed his eyes. Alistair blinked. Alistair had been wrapped into a tight embrace by the Lady of the Lake, the source of the comforting warmth. Fog surrounded them. The otherworldly phenomenon would swallow the island in only a few more moments.
“Well done, Alistair,” she whispered, stroking his head. “There is just one thing left to do. It’s something you must do alone.”
He craned his head up to meet her gaze one final time. No longer did she have pity or concern hidden in her features, only pride.
“I’m ready, milady,” Alistair said.
Already the mist threatened to prematurely end their union. Even the Lady’s powerful light began to fade away into nothingness. His senses started to dull as the dream collapsed around him.
Reach into the grail, Alistair. Take hold of the key to your destiny.
Her voice had lost its strength. The Lady sounded far away again. He had perhaps another moment or two before he would be engulfed as well. Alistair looked down at where the grail and its rocky pedestal had once been. All he could see now was the liquid’s surface, with ripples and whirling water going round and round. Even deeper beneath the surface, he could see something resting at the bottom.
It certainly wasn’t a key, but the item did have a supernatural glean to it. The surface of it sparkled with brilliant light. This light pulsated as if to signal that his time was almost up.
Alistair threw both hands into the water and latched onto it for dear life. He would never have another chance like this. The Lady was counting on him! With all his strength he yanked it out while the world around him disappeared into nothingness again.
The little token could fit inside the palm of his hand. A chain had been fastened to it so he might wear it around his neck. It took the shape of a kite shield with two gauntleted fists crossed over it. Despite having never seen something like it before, Alistair instinctively knew exactly what to call it. Perhaps this knowledge was a final parting gift from the Lady.
A relic token, made for a Paladin of the Aegis.