Forevermore - Sir Ethan & The Lady of the Sleeping Pool

The gentle rustling of leaves was all that could be heard. A horse and its rider ambled along softly through the forested path. All around were trees endowed with the weary-eyed faces of men. A lavender sky blanketed the tops of these trees and slowly tucked the forest into a deep slumber.

As the woods grew quiet, the rider observed how the usual nightly choir of frogs and crickets could not be heard. It was a strange forest, indeed. Even the air was like an intoxicating perfume. There was no noise. No stirring of critters nor snapping of twigs. The legends of this place were true, he thought to himself. As the sun set and the moon rose, the Whisper Wood fell into a dream-like sleep.

The rider’s name was Sir Ethan the Errant, named so for his wandering in search of gallant quests. His appearance told the stories of many rough adventures. His blue mantle was torn, his armor needed a polish, and his battered shield could use a fresh coat of paint. Even his golden hair was a nest of twigs and his beard filled with sap. The only thing not in disarray was the silver spear at his back.

Sir Ethan’s steed was named Dauntless. He was as black as night save for a few white patches here and there. Dauntless had seen many perilous adventures and was Ethan’s most trusted companion. He carried himself proudly and marched onwards through the pools of moonlight pouring in from the canopy above.

A strange mission had taken Sir Ethan and Dauntless to the Whisper Wood. He had been tasked by the steward of Moon Tear Manor to fetch a rather unusual heirloom of the estate. Without this heirloom, the manor would fall into the hands of hungry land speculators eager to gobble up the bountiful fields and strong-stoned castle. This mission was a long shot, but Sir Ethan was accustomed to lost causes and fool’s errands.

As the sky grew darker and the moon brighter, the stars overhead were beginning to wake up. Ethan marveled at them as Dauntless carried them further and further into the deep woods. The stars were often used by the knight-errant for navigating the treacherous terrain of the realm. Here, however, he simply basked in their pale light. The stars were an important part of his family’s history.

Ethan glanced down upon the wooded path and became alert. He and Dauntless were passing through a corridor of silent sentinels. They stood as tall as trees; covered in vines and ivy. Beneath the foliage were carven warriors of wood. They gripped clubs and maces in their gauntlets of gnarled bark. The heads of the sentinels were chiseled into grotesque faces. Their eyelids were shut tight…for now.

Dauntless was disturbed and groaned loudly. Ethan tightened the reins and cooed. They must not disturb these guardians of the Whisper Wood. Heaven help them if they did. The two continued onwards. The woods were becoming woolier. They weaved in and out of trees and ducked under low-hanging branches. With every pace forward, Sir Ethan spotted another sentinel standing guard at its post.

Before long, Ethan and Dauntless found that they could go no further. The wooded road had ended beneath their feet. The stars above were blotted by hands of bark and leaf. Even the way back was drowned in blackness. Ethan growled under his breath. What now?

Suddenly, Dauntless’ ears perked up. Something faint was carried to his ears from afar. Ethan took notice and paused. Sure enough, there was a sound. It was deep and rhythmic. Then it dawned on him. It was snoring.

Dauntless craned his neck back and glanced at Ethan. The knight gave his horse a gentle pat. Dauntless flicked his mane and sauntered on. He found a narrow opening in between a cluster of trees. With every hoof-fall, the snoring grew louder and louder.

After a few moment’s time, the two came upon a towering wall of thorny vines. It was a briar patch unlike any Sir Ethan had ever seen. It stretched on like a castle wall to either side until it vanished from sight. The barbs were as long and as sharp as daggers. The vines twisted and coiled around each other, forming a patch so dense that no one could peer through it to the other side.

However, the deep rhythmic sighs and snores could still be heard, wafting over the thorny wall. Whatever was the cause of those sounds lay beyond the other side. The knight-errant knew that his goal was just within reach.

At once, Sir Ethan dismounted his horse and marched up to the barrier of thorns. He drew forth his sword and began hacking at the vines. It was no use. As soon as he chopped pieces away, more grew to take their place. He quickened his blows, slicing faster and faster. It was all for naught. Within seconds, the barrier looked as it did when he and Dauntless arrived.

Now breathless, Sir Ethan paused. He thought of what to do. Then he remembered. He returned to his saddle and drew forth a small scroll of parchment. He had been given an old chronicle of Moon Tear Manor from the steward of that estate. Ethan unfurled the scroll and read the faded words.

It spoke of the location of the Whisper Wood, how the forest falls asleep when the sun sets etcetera, etcetera. Ethan had glanced over these words before. But then he saw that the writing continued onto the backside. He flipped over the parchment and read the words inscribed there. They read:

“A barrier of thorns most sharp,

Will take to life and move apart,

Only when command is spoken,

From one who bears a heavenly token”

Ethan pondered over this riddle for a good while. He reclined against Dauntless and murmured the words to himself. “Only when command is spoken….bears a heavenly token. Heavenly token? What could that mean?”

Dauntless began nudging Ethan’s back with his snout. Ethan brushed him away. "Not now, Dauntless. I’m trying to think.” The horse continued to push himself against Ethan’s back. The young knight took hold of the reins and pulled the horse away. “What’s gotten into you? I’m trying to think here.” Dauntless whinnied softly. “What is it?” asked Ethan. The horse lifted his snout towards the spear at Ethan’s back.

The knight-errant’s eyes widened with revelation. Of course, he thought to himself. How could he have missed it? He retrieved the spear from his back and brandished it in his gloved hands. He then stroked Dauntless’ mane. “My apologies, old friend,” he said with a wry smile, “I had forgotten about the natural intuition of noble beasts.” Dauntless snorted proudly.

The spear that Ethan carried was no ordinary spear. It had a name. North Star. It is because of this spear that Ethan’s family chose North as their surname. Generations back, during the Age of Darkness, his ancestor prayed for a means of combating evil. His answer came in the reply of a falling star from the north. It landed in a shallow pool upon which his ancestor erected a mighty castle. The star glowed like white fire and was forged into a spearhead. It was fastened to a shaft of grey ironwood, making it unbreakable by the hands of men. If anything could qualify as a “heavenly token” it would be North Star.

Sir Ethan gallantly approached the thorny wall with North Star in hand. He then raised it up above his head so that it shone in a pillar of pure starlight. The spear sparkled as Ethan’s voice boomed, “I – Sir Ethan of house North – command thee to make way!”

At first, there was no reaction. Ethan continued to hold the spear aloft over his head. Dauntless stamped his hooves in the awkward silence. However, Ethan remained as still as a statue.

Suddenly, the ground began to rumble. Roots came to life and slithered about, followed shortly by strands of barbed ivy. The wall was beginning to split asunder before Ethan’s very eyes.

Within seconds an entrance had formed in the wall. Ethan motioned for Dauntless to stay put as he would venture on. The knight stepped forward through the threshold and into the hidden garden.

This place was also still and silent, save for the snoring of course. He followed it through the ferns and parted a curtain of vines aside. Laying before him was a pool of calm water. Its surface was so still that it was like a mirror; filled with starlight from above. The pool was not too large. Ethan could peer across to the bank on the far side. Resting there was a towering willow tree, its roots dipping into the quiet waters.

Ethan was in awe of this tree, for surely it was none other than the fabled Sleeping Willow. Yes, it must be, he thought to himself. What other willow is of this size: with branches so high they reached above the canopy of the forest around it? Or what other trees had leaves that glowed with a pale soft light? And one could not confuse the wooden face of a bearded man upon its trunk for any other common tree!

Indeed, the eyes of the Sleeping Willow were shut tightly, and its lips were pursed as it breathed out deep bellowing snores. Its breath jostled the hanging branches of glowing leaves which danced just above the pool. Ethan then noticed that there were many strange things beneath the water’s surface.

Shimmering gems were dotted here and there at the bottom of the sandy pool, along with golden coins and heirlooms. There were goblets and chargers and strings of pearls as well as ornamental swords and shields. This place must have had great significance to a long-lost culture, thought Ethan to himself. Why else make such offerings?

Then Ethan saw something else resting at the bottom of the pool. It was not a trinket of gold or bronze. It was draped in white linens trimmed with silver fabric. It wore a silver sash upon its waist and had two hands cupped together and adorned with white gemstones. A necklace of silver shells was seen, and a circlet of silver crested long strands of white hair. The eyes of this figure were closed shut as if in a deep sleep. It was a young woman.

Ethan’s heart stopped still in his chest. Even though all the legends proved true thus far, he could hardly believe this one. It was the Lady Celeste, who was laid to rest at the bottom of the Sleeping Pool during the Age of Darkness when the world was a much more violent place. There she would remain, preserved by the magical waters at the roots of the Sleeping Willow until one may come to awaken her from her slumber.

The young knight-errant stripped off his shield strap and spear and gently set his foot into the pool. Its ripples echoed out across the water, reaching the roots of the Sleeping Willow. The tree’s snoring became agitated for a fleeting moment before returning to normal. Ethan paused for a bit before setting his other foot into the pool, this time easing it in more cautiously.

Before long, Ethan was wading through the pool up to his waist. He stumbled a few times over some golden cups, disturbing the waters and nearly arousing the Sleeping Willow from its rest. He winced and pressed on, parting the hanging willow branches from his path.

Within moments, Ethan was standing over the sleeping lady. No bubbles rose from her nostrils, yet her face was still warm and blushed. Resting on a bed of white sand and wreathed by reflections of starlight, Ethan was entranced by her beauty. After taking a deep breath, Ethan slipped his head below the surface and scooped his arms under the maiden. He lifted her up slowly above the waters.

Now in his arms, the Lady Celeste seemed to glisten like diamonds as beads of water trickled down her skin. The young knight’s heart was beating fast in his chest: one part due to the lady’s beauty and another part due to the Sleeping Willow, who was now peeking one eye slightly open. A faint hint of green could be seen beneath the heavy eyelid before it was hidden from sight again. Ethan sighed in relief as he shuffled back towards the bank. He feared what may happen if the tree were to awaken.

Back on the far side of the pool, Ethan gently laid Celeste down on the soft grass. She would not rise from her slumber. Surely the starlight and moonlight above would cause her eyes to open, Ethan thought. Yet she remained asleep.

He then looked back upon the Sleeping Willow and saw its thirsty roots dipping into the Sleeping Pool. Perhaps whoever drinks the magical water falls to sleep. If that be true, then maybe some of that water still lingered in the Lady’s throat.

Ethan awkwardly knelt beside her and held the back of her head in his hand. With his other hand he parted her lips. Then, after mustering his courage, he pressed his lips to hers and blew puffs of air into her lungs. There was a sudden sputtering of water followed by coughing. The Lady Celeste had been revived.

The young knight threw himself aside as Celeste continued to cough. He flicked his eyes towards the Willow, who remained asleep. The lady sat upright and dried her lips with her white sleeve. She then sat still for a few moments as she tried to catch her breath. All the while, Sir Ethan remained still so as not to frighten her. With all the noise, it was a miracle the Sleeping Willow did not wake up.

Celeste opened her eyes and peered up at the moon on high. It was a waxing moon that bathed the small clearing in a white glow. Ethan then saw how the Lady’s eyes were silver and bright, just like how the legends described them. Her hair also shone like silky starlight in the cool evening. Truly, there was no other woman like her in all the realms of Evermore.

She quickly laid eyes upon Sir Ethan and froze. He smiled back at her. She then let out a deafening cry for help and started to scramble away.

“WHO ARE YOU!?” she screamed, “WHERE AM I? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME???” Ethan tried to shush her, but it was no use. By now, Celeste had risen to her feet and she backed away against the trunk of a tree. “Stay away from me! Stay back, I say!” The two of them circled around the tree: he trying to calm her down and her trying to evade him.

“Answer me stranger, where am I and what have you done to me? Where is my father and–“ she stopped and wiped her lips once more. “Did someone kiss me?” Her eyes burned with hatred as she snarled at Sir Ethan. “DID YOU KISS ME?!”

“No!” he shouted, “I mean yes. I mean…sort of! But you must be quiet, my lady!” he said as he lunged at her.

“What are you doing?” she yelled as Ethan scooped her up by the waist, “Let me down! Do you hear me? I SAID LET ME DOWN YOU PEASANT!” He cupped his gloved hand over her mouth, but she still struggled.

“My lady, you must remain silent or else – OW!” Celeste stomped on Ethan’s foot and elbowed him in the gut. She tried to dart away but Ethan yanked at her ankles and pulled her back in. She clawed at Ethan’s eyes.

“Unhand me you oaf! You brigand! You fiend!”

“You don’t understand,” said Ethan grasping ahold of Celeste’s wrists, “I’m trying to rescue you! I’m a knight-errant. I was sent to-“ Suddenly, Celeste let out a blood-curdling scream that shook the tops of the trees. It carried on across the Sleeping Pool to its farthest bank.

The snoring of the Sleeping Willow ceased. Its eyelids peeled open like a creaking door. They blinked a few times before opening wide and beholding the young knight and lady on the other side of the pool. Its green gaze then turned to a fiery amber.

Sir Ethan and Lady Celeste paused their struggle and watched as the Sleeping Willow’s branches began to sway frantically. Their soft blue light turned to a violent red that seemed to fill the entire forest with a hellish glow. The waters of the Sleeping Pool shook with waves as the tree’s roots whipped back and forth.

Then, the Willow opened its mouth. It was filled with webs and fungus. From the deepest chambers of the tree ushered forth a bellow unlike any ever heard. It was louder than any warning bell and came with a gust of hot wind that sent all the leaves of the Whisper Wood whirling in a turbulent maelstrom.

This yell echoed across the entire forest. It awoke the sleeping trees and aroused the silent sentinels from their stations. They came to life and began to move their aching joints once again. Their eyes opened wide and shone with the same wrath as their lord, the Sleeping Willow. Brandishing weapons of wood, they marched towards the thorny grotto where the pool resided. It was as if the entire forest had turned against Sir Ethan and Lady Celeste.

Ethan crawled to where his shield and spear lay. All around him the trees were swaying in the wind. Leaves were raining down from above. As he turned toward the entrance to the thorny grotto, he saw the white silhouette of Lady Celeste darting away into the red forest. Breath left his body in fright.

“No, my lady!” he shouted, but it was no use. His voice was drowned out by the rushing winds. Still, he cried after her as he picked himself up and dashed through the threshold.

Dauntless was rearing up in terror. His blue trappings were torn and tethered by a nearby tree branch. Ethan saw that the tree bore a wicked face grinning in delight. Its branch was like a grasping claw ensnaring the brave steed by the reins. Sir Ethan drew his sword and severed the branch from the trunk. The tree shrieked in agony and vomited up a mushy pulp of rotten leaves.

Ethan quickly mounted his horse and rode off in pursuit of Lady Celeste. With all the woods enraged, she would not make it far on her own. Indeed, Ethan was unsure if he and Dauntless would make it far on their own. Every passing tree branch tried to reach out and grab at them. Ethan’s sword hacked and slashed a path through the violent forest. All the while, the hellish glow filled the corridors of trees and the wailing of the Sleeping Willow boomed above the treetops.

“Lady Celeste!” cried Ethan as he rode, “Lady Celeste, where are you?!” It was difficult to see anything clearly. The leaves of the trees had turned to red as did the trunks and the soil beneath their feet. But Ethan caught a glimpse of something silver hanging from a nearby branch. It was Celeste’s sash. He snagged it as he passed by in a hurry.

“She can’t be far!” he said aloud to Dauntless. The horse flicked his ears and quickened his pace. Before long, they saw the brilliant white garments of Lady Celeste amidst the fiery red of the forest. She was caught in a web of moss, vines, and gnarled branches. She struggled to free herself, but it was in vain. Her silvery hair was tangled in the grasp of a sinister tree, laughing maniacally as two silent sentinels stalked closer towards her.

“Let me go! Let me go, I say!” The tree only cackled more loudly at her pleas. The sentinels were drawing near, their footsteps crashing like falling timbers. Their shadows grew large upon Celeste as they slowly raised their weapons to strike. The poor maiden clenched her eyes tight, preparing for the end.

But then, Sir Ethan and his mighty horse burst forth from the overgrowth and charged at the sentinels. With spear in hand, the young knight plunged it deep into the exposed belly of the sentinel, bringing it down like a chopped tree. Thick streams of amber and sap bubbled out of its wound as it lay on the ground in defeat.

Ethan then reared Dauntless around to face the second sentinel. By now, Lady Celeste had opened her eyes and beheld that she had not met her demise. She watched in awe as the knight-errant squared off with the towering sentinel. The foe’s head was crowned with horn-like branches and it held a massive club in its hand.

The sentinel swung the club around. It moved through the air like a battering ram, nearly knocking the young knight from his saddle. Dauntless neighed in fright and backed away. Ethan struggled to regain control of his horse and prepared himself for the next bout. The sentinel swung its club again and again and again, each time barely missing the knight and his horse. Then, it brought its club downwards. It missed its mark and became lodged in the ground. This was the opportunity that Sir Ethan was waiting for.

He brought his spur to Dauntless’ side and charged forward. His silver spear, like a lightning bolt, pierced the creature’s right eye, sending it to the ground in a tumultuous thud. The Lady Celeste had been saved…but danger was still afoot. Sir Ethan looked and saw that twenty more sentinels were slowly pacing through the forest toward them.

Celeste was still entrapped in the arms of the malicious tree. Ethan told her to duck as he raised his sword. She closed her eyes and stooped down as Ethan chopped away the fiendish branches holding her in place. After sheathing his sword, the young knight extended his hand to her.

“Come now! Quickly!” he ordered. Celeste hesitated. Ethan growled. “We don’t have time for this, my lady! Come with me!” She glanced and saw the marching line of sentinels getting closer. Their eyes were aglow with red and orange. She then took hold of Ethan’s hand and he quickly pulled her up onto his saddle.

“Ride, Dauntless! Ride!” he hollered, and the horse jolted forward with thundering hooves. They flew through the forested corridor, surrounded on all sides by sentinels. Lady Celeste squeezed her arms around Ethan’s waist as the young man jabbed his spear at the approaching foes.

Dauntless veered from side to side, evading the sentinels. It took all of Celeste’s strength to not go flying from her seat at the back of the saddle. The wind continued to roar, and billows of leaves encircled the horse and its riders.

Dead ahead was a particularly tall sentinel. Its legs were twice as tall as a man. Its arms were as large as trees in and of themselves. Celeste gasped as she saw the fiend prepare to scoop them up into its clutches, horse and all. Even Ethan was frightened, but he leaned forward and shouted into Dauntless’ ear.

“Be brave, Dauntless! Press on! Press on!” Dauntless’ nostrils flared and his lungs blew out hot gusts of air. He charged onwards at the sentinel. There was no turning back now. If they could make it past this obstacle, then they would be in the clear.

The sentinel knelt to pluck the heroes from the ground. But as the hands moved inwards for the trap, Dauntless thundered through. He stormed past the arch of the creature’s legs and raced onwards. He had done it! The valiant horse had carried his master and the fair maiden to safety.

They exited the red glow of the forest and entered the moonlit clearing. The shrill roars of the Sleeping Willow could still be heard upon the wind as Ethan, Celeste, and Dauntless rode on into the coolness of the night.

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