The Sword In The Lake

Hello! 
For this week, my inspiration was King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table! I picked one, named Bedivere, and decided to write a modern version of his return of Excalibur. Sorry if it's a bit longer than my usual posts!
​Enjoy!
All the best,
-Little Lion

I only went out for coffee.
A quick trip down the street, in the chilling February rain, to get a black, small coffee when my coffee maker broke.
I would need the caffeine for more than the essay I had to write.
I unlocked my front door, shoving my shoulder against it to push through to my living room after pocketing the keys.
What I didn’t expect was the full length knight’s sword propped against the couch, and a thick, heavy, leather bound book plunked on top of my closed laptop.
Weird. I know I locked the door.
I took a sip of my coffee as I stared at the shining hunk of metal, and took another scalding sip to try to wake myself up.
I have to be dreaming. This isn’t real.
I cautiously skirt around the sword, and sit on the couch, noticing a golden cup embossed on the cover, above Knights Of The Round Table.
Without anything better to do, I reach for the book, setting my coffee next to the computer.
The second I touch it, my left hand stops working.
What-
I shake it, poke it, and then try to ignore it, but I can’t move any of the fingers on my left hand. I can bend my arm at the elbow, but not at the wrist, I figure out.
Maybe this is all just a side effect of that new allergy medication I’m taking. Dusty book, allergy meds, and no feeling or movement in my left hand. Hopefully, I don’t lose feeling in my right.
With that thought, I heft the book back onto the table, and shout as the feeling comes back into my hand. I wiggle all the fingers, and bend my wrist.
Temporary side effect was right. I don’t think they put that on the bottle.
I reach for my laptop, and research the medication name: Valatyen, and after ten minutes of clicking and scrolling, I can’t find any side effects other than may cause headaches, nausea, and itchy eyes.
I shut my laptop, and stare at the sword leaning against the couch.
Despite the obvious age of the sword, the blade is shining, and I notice engravings etched into the blade.
Huh. Must be something important.
Another internet search later, about both the book and the sword, I come up with this.
Someone put King Arthur’s sword - the sword of legend - in my apartment.
The Knights Of The Round Table were Arthur’s trusted knights, and there were more than the original 12 if I’m to believe what I’m finding.
Why I can’t feel my hand is still a mystery, but I’ve gotten closer.
I don’t dare touch the sword bare handed. I grab a dish towel, and grunt at the weight of the sword; man, medieval swords were heavy. And I thought I was in shape.
I put it in my closet, and use the dish towel to move the book to my kitchen counter, flexing my left hand all the while.
Once the book is set on the counter, I take the dish towel away, and touch the cover with a fingertip.
Left hand dead.
I remove my finger.
Left hand alive.
I try touching it with the dish towel again.
Left hand still, surprisingly, alive.
Loophole!
After narrowly finishing my essay before the deadline, I sit on the couch with a piece of pizza, and wonder why whoever they are picked me to return Arthur’s sword. I’m just a college guy, with barely any real-world experience, and I’ve always been tall and gangly since middle school.
Maybe I’ll find answers in that strange, left-hand-deactivating book.
I cautiously flip through the old, aged ink stained pages, then do more research online.
When I look at my watch, I find it’s three in the morning, and I have class the next day. Well, today.
Ugh.
After managing a few hours of sleep and grabbing a banana, I’m out the door headed for campus. My thoughts wander all day to the sword in my closet, and the book on my counter. To who put them there, and what I’m supposed to do with them.
After my classes, I call my best friend, Adrian, who’s studying to get a major in the classics. Maybe King Arthur is included in whatever he’s studied.
“Hey. What’s up?”
A lot of shuffling, some murmurs, and I hear a door close before he answers me.
“Nothing much. Just slaving away at Carver”s terrible homework assignment.”
I wince, and he sighs into the phone.
“Can I help you with anything? That’s why you called, right?”
I nod, then realize he can’t see me.
“What do you know about the Knights of the Round Table?”
“As in, King Arthur, Camelot, and Excalibur, Knights?”
“Yeah. Anything regarding the sword and the Knights.”
Through the phone, I can sense his glare, and add a hasty, “Please. I’ll buy you five Pepsi’s.”
A second passes before he answers, “Make it six. The sword is magic, the whole ‘Sword in the Stone’ and Merlin thing?”
Probably a good thing I didn’t touch the sword barehanded, then.
“Keep going.” I glance down at my hand, and flex my fingers. “What about the Knights?”
“Oh, you know. Lancelot, Sir Gawain, Sir Galahad, Belvidere-”
“Who’s he?”
“Which one?”
“The..Bendivere one.”
He chuckles, and fills me in.
I thank him, and hang up.
The knight supposedly lost his hand, was Arthur’s cupbearer, and has to return Excalibur to the Lady of the Lake, whoever that is.
Guess I’m supposed to return the sword - but where?
There’s not even an ocean near me. I’m landlocked.
Wait.
Jonathan Lake, ten minutes from my apartment, just outside the city.
I’m going to need some gas, then.
It’s more like a thirty minute drive, after all the starting and stopping and jaywalking; I shut off the engine, and stare at the lake as the sun glints off the surface of the water.
I pull on a pair of gloves, and lift Excalibur from the trunk before I stand at the edge of the water, the weight of the sword pulling it’s tip to the ground.
Do I throw it? Toss it? Just float it into the water? And what about the book? Do I toss that in, too? Do I get to keep it?
My questions are answered as a face, a hand, an arm appear below the surface, and my jaw drops.
The Lady Of The Lake herself, come to claim Arthur’s sword.
Before I know what I’m doing, I lean back, raise my arm, and toss the sword into the lake.
The Lady smiles, and dives after it.
With a shudder, I turn away - did that just happen?
After peeling off and shoving the gloves into my jacket pocket, I start my car, and look over to the passenger seat, where I set the Knights Of The Round Table.
It’s gone, disappeared into thin air.