He stood once more at the edge of the misty lake. The air was cold.
Before him, floating gently across the water, was a boat. It was the same boat that he placed Arthur's lifeless body on when they first arrived here.
It swayed in place, like it was waiting for him.
Inviting him. Calling him home.
His eyes didn't move from it.
Out in the center of the lake, she appeared—
The Lady of the Lake.
Silent and radiant as always.
She was floating, her gown untouched by the water underneath her.
"Welcome back," she said.
Her voice wasn't loud.
It moved through him—warm and soft, like water pouring over old wounds.
He lowered himself to one knee.
"It's nice to see you again, milady."
His fingers brushed the boat's edge.
It was smooth. Familiar. Cold.
"…It's a nice boat," he whispered.
Then he looked up.
Eyes clear.
Voice steady.
"But I can't go with you. Not yet."
She didn't ask why.
She only smiled.
"I know."
He stood up, slowly.
He didn't look back.
