Note to self; watch where you're going when trying to navigate bush land. The amount of times I stumbled on tiny rocks, tripped over fallen branches, and nearly got whacked in the face by burnt trees is ridiculous. But, if Nimue wanted me to go this way, wanted me to find whoever was trying to navigate these burnt remains of Australian bush, then that's what I would do. I still wished I had asked her if she was the Lady of the Lake from the legends of King Arthur, but never mind that.

As I got deeper into the bush, the temperature seemed to increase. It was almost as hot as a Christmas barbecue. In fact, I was beginning to feel like I had been chucked on the barbie.

I was surprised that there wasn't any red light, but that unnerved me more than comforted me. Because it meant whatever force was controlling the red light had switched focus. Maybe to the poor person I left behind in the blinding hospital...

Lost in thought, I didn't even notice I was inside a house until I ran into the remains of a wall. I wiped the black soot from my forehead and green gemstone. Yeah, that thing was still there. Not that I was complaining, because it wasn't like it made things worse for me. It didn't make things better, but it didn't do anything terrible.

I looked around, feeling a twang of remorse in my chest. This was the home of a family. But it had been reduced to charred scraps, with ash and embers blowing around in the wind. It was horrible. But the place didn't radiate death. It didn't give off the same vibe as the hospital and lake had. No one – no human at least – had died here. I didn't know how I knew that, but I did.

I got to my feet and left through a hole, which I guessed was where the front door once stood. The houses in the bush were beautiful, but it looked like this place had been an unfortunate victim of a raging bush fire.

I sighed. It was autumn at the moment, but summer in Australia meant three things. Bush fires after complaining about how cold winter and spring are, floods after complaining about the stupid bush fires, and cyclones after complaining about floods trying to clean the burnt mess. It was a messed-up cycle, but we were lucky to be in the middle of a tectonic plate, rather than on one of its edges. We were also lucky that snow basically didn't exist in Australia. Otherwise, we'd never escape natural disasters.

In the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something. I whipped my head around and saw a figure, wandering into the abolished bush. But what scared me was what I saw above their head. In the distance, another bright orb of torturous light glowed in the sky. I imagine whoever had been in the hospital was also on their way to the most painful migraine in the world, but I didn't have time to stop them. I just needed to stop this one.

My feet sprang into action, and I chased after them. But the bush seemed to be against me. I kept tripping over rusted objects, burnt branches kept landing in my path, and embers insisted on flying towards my face. I remembered what Jade said about the place. If I died there, I was gone. No resurrection. It was the end of my story. So, I wasn't keen on jumping over flames and inhaling embers.

I seemed to fall behind whoever it was that was navigating the bush without struggle, which was strange since I was running, and they were walking. That wasn't good. I needed to get to them before I woke up. Spend enough time in this strange Dreamscape, and you learn that time works very differently. Sometimes it felt like a few seconds, but six hours had passed. Sometimes it felt like a week, but only a few minutes had passed. I didn't want to find out I'd gotten a full night's sleep after only a few minutes. Or worse. That I'd barely gotten a wink of sleep.

I didn't dare look down at my legs, but I could feel the burns and scratches from everything that got in my path. I was inhaling smoke, which was in no way good for my lungs. Especially since I could die in the Dreamscape. That didn't make much sense to me if I was being completely honest. Like, you're immortal except for when you're asleep. I didn't know how it worked.

We eventually found ourselves in a junkyard, filled with rusted objects, decaying tools, burnt corpses, and the embers and ash swirled in the air. It looked like something out of a steampunk horror movie. If those were even a real thing. But it seemed the land had finally realised where the figure was going. The destroyed objects tried to get in their way, the same way the dead bushes and bindii prickles had for me.

In the sky, swirling away from everything, was the ball of pure white light, surrounded by bright colours. I ran through the junkyard, and it seemed like it wanted me to stop whoever this was. The junk cleared a path for me to follow them, and I was getting closer, but they'd already started rising into the sky.

The storm, the junk, the earth, the glitter, all of it, avoided the light like it was a killing machine. And I agreed with it. But the person in front of me didn't seem to pay their surroundings much mind. With each step, they were higher in the sky, and more out of reach.

As I got closer, I began to wonder. It felt like this wasn't how things were supposed to go, and Jade had said that herself. It felt like the light had been tampered with in some way. When I died, I saw basically the same thing, but it felt safer, and more natural. This felt forced and manipulated. And I was going to guess it had something to do with the mystery man everyone was so afraid of. Clearly, he'd done something horrible, and was only returning now to complete it. And no, I am not just saying that because that's how it works on TV.

I tried to think of anything I knew about history. This was definitely a job more suited to Ciara. But, if Nimue was real, surely other myths were real to. Maybe Mordred? Or did this have nothing to do with King Arthur and Nimue was just one of many? Was it Lucifer? That wizard that kept following the Napaljarri sisters? Some Greek enemy? Some Roman enemy? I didn't know enough about history or mythology, or any religion other than Christianity. Yay Christian schools, right?

No matter, I'd have to figure that out later. Maybe I'd try to convince Ciara to tutor me or something. It seemed like that sort of thing would make her happy. But right now, I needed to worry about the problem at hand. The figure ahead of me had dissolved into the bright ball of light.

I ran as fast as I could to pull them out, but the invisible path into the sky didn't seem to exist anymore. Bummer. So Instead, I ran directly under it as it started reacting to the intruder. It collapsed quickly, and with so much force I was thrown ten metres away from it. I crashed into a rusted garden arch, and parts of it crumbled but others stabbed my arms and thighs. I wailed out in pain at the feeling, but after everything I'd gone through, I was beginning to get used to pain.

I stumbled to my feet and saw the figure plummeting from the sky, the colourful light swirling around their body as they fell. I sprinted across the field of broken goods and dived to catch then as they reached the ground. They screamed and writhed in my arms, blood coming from all seven holes in their head.

"Hey," I whispered, "hey it's okay. I'm here."

They just screamed out louder and rolled out of my arms. I managed to actually get a look at them, and I'll admit, it wasn't quite what I'd imagined. They had a very feminine build, which I wish I could say didn't make me feel self-conscious, curly deep red hair in a high ponytail, freckles in an odd shade of orange all over their body, and their pink pyjamas were caked in blood and dirt.

But what struck me about their appearance was that they didn't look like I did. Not yet at least. I could see the dark lines burning into their forehead, and an orange gemstone forced its way out through their forehead. It looked excruciatingly painful, and I was going to guess that's where the horrid migraine had come from.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me," I pulled them into my arms and cradled them as they screamed. "It's going to be alright. Just focus on my voice."

They seemed to be calming down a little, but still cried out in agony. And before I could get another word out, they dissolved in my arms. I twisted around and screamed out for them, but they had just vanished.

"No, no, no, please!" I felt tears run down my cheeks. I had been alone here so long, I thought I'd finally have someone to help me understand. But they'd been taken away from me. "Please! Where are they!? God! Deities! Universe! Whatever force there is! Why!?"

I crumpled myself into a ball and cried into my dirt covered arms. Maybe this place was Hell. I'd been sent to a world of torture every night. Maybe I deserved it.

"I'm sorry!" I wailed. "I'm sorry for every fight! I'm sorry for everyone I hurt! I'm sorry for never giving people a chance! I'm sorry for dragging Zak into this mess! I'm sorry for killing those people! I'm sorry for everything!"

"That won't do thou any good," came the soft voice of Nimue. "Flare is merely awake, most likely vomiting from the headache."

I got to my feet and turned to her, wiping the dirt and tears from my face. "Are you speaking from experience?"

Nimue smiled and stepped out of her lake, carrying the multicoloured sword at the side.

"Somewhat," she said. "I assume thou has figured out this is not how things are usually done?"

I nodded.

"It's terribly misfortunate," Nimue wiped soot from my face. "I presume thou will think of mythologies and do research. But thou won't find what thee is looking for."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because the man thee wishes to find was wiped from history," Nimue looked down sadly. "He was that dreadful. It's why the story of my death is so alluding."

I looked behind her to the self-luminous red lake, a question forming in my head.

"Are you the Lady of the Lake?" I asked. "Is that Lake Avalon?"

Nimue smiled. "It was once called that. It's the only constant in all realms of existence. It changes to fit with legends. It was once the River Styx, currently, it's been given a new name. Llyn Llydaw, I believe."

Based on her accent, I was going to guess that meant Lake Avalon was in Wales. I knew a bit about geography, but not as much as other subjects. The name was familiar, and I think it's surrounded by mountains, but I honestly have no idea where Llyn Llydaw would be.

"What about the one in the hospital?" I asked. "Are they alright?"

"He is as alright as thee was," Nimue smiled softly. "But thou will not meet him here for a long while."

"Him?" I asked. "Who is he?"

Nimue shrugged. "Thou just needs to be concerned about the girl. And beware, I am not the only spirit awakening. Thou has been here too long. Not everyone is as friendly as I."

Nimue walked back towards Llyn Llydaw, and her dress draped over the surface behind her. I didn't know about the whole being friendly thing. If I remembered correctly, in a lot of legends she tricked Merlin. But I swear there was something about a Knight beheading her in many legends. Sir Balin, perhaps? But there were other stories as well. Mordred, Arthur, Lancelot. Every story seemed to have a different idea about who killed her, but they were always a Knight.

Great, I thought. I'm being chased by an ancient Arthurian Knight. Normally, I would've thought it was cool that the story of King Arthur was true, but in this case, it was terrifying. The reason for it being so terrifying was that supposedly the Knights of the Round Table wanted me dead. Well, they better get in line, because I can only deal with so many people hunting me down at a time.

And, as if on cue, the lake dematerialised, and a group of knights appeared behind where it had been. Their armour looked heavy and was covered in scratches with certain parts missing. One wasn't wearing a breast plate, one was missing the shoulder pads, some had deformed helmets, but all of them were terrifying. Their skin glistened and I could see the bones underneath it. I didn't know much about spirits, but I was going to guess these were the unfriendly kind.

"Halt!" The one in the front pointed a broken sword at me. "Speak thy name!"

"Flora Fickle," I felt the urge to bow, seeing as they had the most decadent armour of the bunch. King Arthur himself. "My lord."

"Speak thy parentage," he commanded.

"Abel and Terra Fickle," I said, my knee planted firmly into the dirt.

"Enchantress!" He called out. "Knights, for Camelot!"

And with that said, they charged.