"Mirror, Mirror, of circled wall, show me a picture of Camelot fair, and I will weave with special care," Evande said.
A picture came, it was a knight. He rode a large white stallion through fields of barley. His hair was curly and black as night, but his eyes were the blue of watery depths. He looked grand, with his fine shield with the red cross and his glittering silver sword. But it was not only his handsomeness that drew Evadne to him, it was something else. His face looked kind, only marked with lines from laughter. As he turned she could see his eyes better, and it seemed that she could understand him completely. And he was perfect.
The threads hung in front of her, glittering and shining, but she paid no attention. Curse be on you, if you stay, her step-mother's words seemed to hang in the air in front of her. She frowned. That was years ago; she's stayed for a long while and no curse had come upon her. She had no reason to be thinking of it now.
Her gaze was still lingering on the knight. "I—I'm leaving," Evadne said. As she did so, a thunderous crack pierced in to the quiet. The mirror split in two, an enormous crack running through it. Evadne stared, then ran.
"The curse is upon me," she said, though the only one listening was herself.
She ran through the forest to the shore. Her boat, from all those years ago, was still there. She pushed it out, and jumped in. The current pushed her swiftly away. Evadne felt—odd. Different, somehow. She had a feeling she knew why. She understood now.
The curse, was not one her step-mother had laid, it was the curse of Shalott, that beautiful, yet terrible place. She'd never age, never die there. Yet she wouldn't really live either. She'd never love, never have friends, never do anything. She'd just drift through life, only watching it through the glass panes of a looking glass. That wasn't living.
Now she was leaving, so now she would die. Surprisingly, she felt quite calm about it. And she was in the river. She'd always loved rivers. There was a sharp stick in the boat. Truly, there were many sticks and leaves and such, it had been lying there untouched for so long. She took the stick and sat at the prow of the boat, carving her name into the wood. The Lady of Shalott.
She sighed, and watched Shalott grow smaller and smaller, til it was only a dot on the horizon. Avalon was close, but she doubted she would make it there. She lay down in the boat; she was not sure how she would meet her death yet, but sleeping had to make things easier.
Evadne closed her eyes, and listened to the softly splashing water. She could feel it, too, almost like her own heartbeat. In a few moments, she was lost to the world around her, lost in the watery depths.
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"Why, Lancelot, would ya look at that!" a knight called to his friend.
The dark haired, blue-eyed knight strode over. He spotted the lady, washed up on shore. Her eyes were closed, she almost had a smile on her face, framed by her light, silvery hair. She was lovely, really. "She must have just recently drowned. Pity."
"But look, ain't that her boat?"
True enough, a small, wooden boat was a ways down shore from her. The other knight dragged it over. They inspected it, and spotted, written on the prow The Lady of Shalott.
"Shalott, eh?" Lancelot said. "I've never heard of such a place. My, but she has a pretty face. I wonder who she is and why she died."
"Well, my guess is, she couldn't handle her boat very well. Must have capsized, then got righted by the waves, or something."
"Perhaps," Lancelot said. Though, there was something about her that made her think otherwise. She had an air of...elegance. She looked like she would be able to handle a boat herself. She would have died of something else, something more tragic and dramatic. Or maybe he was such being a romantic.
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Ah, tis tragically over! A bit thank you hug to Scoutcraft Piratess for reviewing every chapter, and being pretty much my only reviewer. :) But thanks, as well to those of you who reviewed a chapter or two!