Sleepwalker

© Emma Kathryn

Travel south for two days until you reach a vast lake. When the sun sets on the second day you must find the most overgrown patch of earth on the lake's bank. There you must sleep. During that slumber, she will come.

***

Syen did as the elders had told him and followed the road south until he reached the lake of legend. It was not as grand as the stories had foretold. He was slightly disappointed. The waters were dark and murky, while the weeds had run wild. Syen had imagined clear waters, lily pads, glorious trees on the banks and bird song filling the air. Reality was filth and frogs.

Come sunset, Syen was tempted to go home, but he had other lives to think about now. So he found what he perceived to be the most overgrown patch – although the whole damn place was infested with weeds – and rested, uncomfortably, amongst the thorns.

***

Sleep did not come easily for Syen, but when it did, it was the strangest he'd ever experienced. Voices whispered to him, male and female, in languages he'd never come across in his young life. Some hissed at him, while others seduced, and a few even wept for the young man. Syen tried to tell the disembodied voices that they appealed to him in vain, but still they spoke. Until finally, one voice spoke to Syen in his mother tongue. A child of indistinguishable gender. It whispered She comes.

***

Eyes opened up to a constellation of fireflies. It took Syen several minutes before he remembered where he was and sat up. Tiny insects clambered over his feet. Grasshoppers and toads exchanged pleasantries beneath the high moon. The marshland had come alive.

What stole his attention was a bright light radiating from a spot over the centre of the lake. It seemed to pulsate and, in his head, Syen heard a woman's voice sighing, “Come to me, child.”

As if sleepwalking, Syen stood up and approached the water's edge. The light continued to pulse, like it was the heart of the lake itself. And without a thought, Syen stepped onto the surface of the water. He didn't sink or even get his feet wet. Instead, his boots only left faint ripples on the lake's watery skin.

Onward he went until eventually the light began to take the shape of a woman. Syen's eyes did not stray from her form as he got closer and closer. Finally, she became clearer. Each strand of her hair was a moonbeam. Her face; as pure as porcelain. Eyes were perfect white orbs, devoid of colour. And her body was a marble sculpture.

Syen stared for gods-know how long when he finally stopped before her. She smiled and let him stare.

“You have travelled far to reach my waters, child,” she told him, her voice sending a trembled all through his body. Syen tried to nod. “You must be tired.” Again, he nodded. “Then we shall make this quick. What is it that you desire?”

It took Syen a moment to remember why he was here; his head was too full of wonder and awe. A tiny winged creature fluttered against his cheek, snapping him out of his daze as he waved it away. And finally, he spoke. “The people of my village are very sick. A curse has swept through every home and, on its back, brought the disease. Our doctors and healers are powerless. And those who are not sick must watch their loved ones die. So the elders sent me here. To you. And we beg your mercy to end this.” The lady of light stopped smiling.

“I cannot make this better, child,” she said. “This lake is my prison and here I must stay.” Syen's heart sank. What would he tell his people? “But you can go for me.” The young man's head lifted. “I shall bestow on you a gift of my essence. What you do with it is your decision. I cannot solve the problems of men, but I can give you the tools to do so.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Syen said with a bow. As he lowered his head, he caught a glimpse of some kind of fish swimming below them. It was beautiful.

“There is one thing you must do,” she said.

“Anything.”

“Take a deep breath.”

Her hand was placed on Syen's forehead and she tilted his face to the darkened sky. Ethereal warmth rushed over him and, for a second, he felt at peace. In that moment, he was at one with the world. Enlightened. As if he could face anything. He felt a hundred emotions flooding over his body. Ecstasy. Serenity. Bliss.

Then the water gave way beneath him and the lake swallowed him whole. Plunging deeper into the cold, black waters, Syen felt the pressure intensify. Bubbles of air and life shot from his nose and mouth as he reached upwards and tried to scream for the lady of the lake, who was still a bright light above his head.

***

Syen awoke on the bank, gasping and choking. He was almost certain he'd been dead a moment earlier. The weight of the morning pressed down on his head and his wet clothes clung to his with a stingingly cold grip. Part of him wished he was dead again. Even sitting up hurt.

But as he raised his hands to his face, he noticed something. His skin had taken on a translucent sheen. In fact, he was beginning to glow. Syen stared, his eyes widening. Heart thumped in his chest. It seemed as if the glow was getting brighter. Suddenly, his clothes began to dry as his pains began to fade.

Syen cried out in disbelief. A cry which became a laugh of excitement. Scrambling to his feet, he screamed a “Thank you!” at the lake. It took him several moments to calm down, especially after all the jumping and whooping, but he had to. Home was two days away and he had to start his journey now.

It was time to cure his village.