The Kingdom of the Lake

The Kingdom of the Lake

By Mike Bakhmoutski, 11
Melbourne, VIC

Howard ripped his bedsheets off of himself and looked out the window. It was nice and bright, and the birds flew and tweeted in the blue sky up above. It was a good day to go fishing. He looked to his side, and his wife Veronica, who he was still sitting next to, was completely asleep. He got up and dressed and had a slice of buttered-up toast which he wolfed down. He snatched his fishing rod and bucket of bait from the cabinet which it stayed in and ran out the door and into the hot sunshine.

He got the car into gear and drove out to the park down at Wembley’s Point. It was a thirty minute drive, but he had gone on that road so many times that it felt like a fraction of that time. He parked the car, snatched his rod and his bait and walked to his favourite spot on the shore. On the way, he passed the ranger, a man named Arthur, who knew of Howard’s common ritual.

“Hey, Howie,” he said. “Going fishing, as usual?”

“You bet,” replied Howard, grinning ear to ear. “It’s a wonderful day for it.”

“It sure is, man. Have a good one.”

“You two, Arthur.”

The men went their separate ways.

*

Howard planted his gear right beside the rotten stump that he always sat on, the one that was so hollow that it felt like a cushion. After a quick look around, he acknowledged the fact that no one was around, leaving the lake to himself. The sun glimmered on the water’s surface, and beneath, Howard could practically sense and feel the fish swimming around, waiting for him to catch them. After attaching the bait to the hook, he dropped the line into the water and watched as it slowly bobbed down into the depths of the blue lake. Howard lay onto his back lazily, staring up at the sky, closing his eyes.

He pictured himself floating, drifting, up into the air. Far above the lake, and even further away from home. Slowly, he began to gently land upon a cloud. Looking around, he spotted a cloud archway leading into a sky kingdom. Standing at the gate were two kind, smiling cloud guards who let Howard in. A cloud woman came skipping to him, offering her hand.

“Come with me,” she said. “There’s so much here for you to see!”

*

The fisherman was awoken from his daydream by a sudden tug at the fishing rod. He shot right up to see a little fin pop out of the water and then back in again. He realised that the fish was stuck. He began reeling it in, twisting the knob as fast as he could, but the fish, sensing its imminent doom, pulled away.

“Just give up, you little devil!” Howard growled at the scaly creature. “There’s no point trying!”

The fish must’ve had a lot to live for, because it did not let go. Suddenly, the fish managed to give itself one last surge of strength. With one last, hard tug from the fierce fish, Howard lost his balance, and tumbled into the water with a shout. The fish, now tired after the struggle, fainted with exhaustion, leaving Howard in the water alone, deep in the water. His legs refused to move, and he couldn’t manage to reach the surface. Howard was going to drown, and he would never see his family again. He slowly went down. His eyes flickered shut and his breathing came to a slow descent.

*

Pangs of sadness washed over his sinking body like a wave of grief, covering him in foamy guilt, as he realised that he was about to leave his family -  and the world that he loved - because of a stupid fish. He quickly kicked into gear, kicking and paddling with his stiff limbs, because his life depended on it. Water rushed fiercely into his lungs and he felt as if he would never make it. But with one final push, he managed to bring himself to the surface. He coughed and sniffed and sneezed out all the water still inside him, and slowly lay upon his back, letting fatigue and weariness consume him.

Howard found himself looking up at the surface above. He got up and looked down and saw that he was laying upon a bed of sand and kelp: at the bottom of the lake! Fish swam by, each one bustling busily as if off for an important job. Eventually, after looking at the stunning underwater world about him, Howard built up the courage to ask a passerby some questions. 

He floated over to a sensible-looking fish wearing a weathered, ripped top hat, which Howard didn’t realise was already very odd.

“Hello there,” said Howard awkwardly. “What’s your name?”

Instead of answering, the fish swam right past. Howard blocked the fish’s path, his arms outstretched.

“I asked you a question.”

The fish stared at him with glassy eyes, saying nothing.

“Oh,” muttered Howard, lowering his arms. “Right. Fish can’t talk.”

“Gillmore,” rasped the fish in a surprisingly deep voice. “My name… is Gillmore.”

“Y- you just spoke!” Howard spluttered. His hands trembled. “Since when could you speak?”

“Always. We all can… but you people… never listen.”

“Ah. Well, can you tell me about this lake? I’ve never been here before.”

The talking creature just looked into Howard’s eyes.

“No,” Gillmore said. “Not… supposed… to say.”

Gillmore turned and began to swim in the other direction. Howard reached out and grabbed him by the tail, pulling him close.

“Why?”

The stylish fish tried swimming out of his grasp, but was unsuccessful. He still gave no further details on the matter.

“Please, Gillmore. I’m stuck here. The other fish look at me weirdly.”

Gillmore watched the paranoid fisherman check each of his sides before continuing.

“You’re my only hope.”

After an elongated pause, the fish finally talked again.

“You… better not tell anyone… that this…  information was given.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

Gillmore, with his strange, googly eyes, stared intensely at Howard.

“Or… I will find out… in ways that will scare… even the likes… of you.”

Howard nodded, pleading.

“There are outposts… at every corner… of this lake,” he began. “And any suspicious activity… will be reported to them. The king’s castle… is located at the centre… of the lake. He may be able to help.”

“Thank you so much, friend,” grinned a satisfied Howard. “You have made my day.”

GIllmore quickly escaped the clutches of the human.

“No… not friend,” he grunted. “Enemy. I will… get him later.”

*

Howard was swimming for a long time. Only now was he realising how large the lake was. Eventually, in the distance, he spotted one of the outposts. 

Oh no, he thought, I think I should turn back.

So he did, but then he heard Gillmore’s voice near the outpost. Because of the fish’s slow way of talking, it took him a little while to piece together what was said.

A human is nearby… Scary fisherman… Evil, blood-thirsty…

Howard turned towards the outpost, only to see a tough-looking fish with scars all over its face talking to Gillmore. Suddenly, the human’s fancy fish friend pointed right at Howard, and the guard’s face turned dour, and from seemingly nowhere, the guard pulled out a horn and blew upon it, and a loud roar rumbled the ground. A horde of fish, led by the guard and Gillmore charged right at Howard, spears pointing directly at him. Howard nearly jumped out of his skin, and began swimming as fast as he could. The fish were gaining on him, and it was only a matter of time until they caught him.

After a while, the number of fish in the chase slowly dwindled, until only the guards and Gillmore were left still following him. The human still couldn’t believe that Gillmore betrayed him.

“Never trust… every fish in the lake!” hissed Gillmore to himself with an added maniacal chuckle.

“You can say that again,” grumbled Howard, panting. “I’ll certainly never do that.”

Then the castle came into view. It was made of mossy, algae-covered bricks and massive hunks of hard stone. Some were cracked, but that did not affect their overall purpose - to stand the test of time. And that they did. They were old, older than anything Howard had seen.

But how long this structure stood for was not important at that moment. Howard needed to get inside, and fast, before these fish captured him, or worse. He managed to get up the stairs and into the castle, just when the fish were at his tail. Then, he slammed the door right in their faces. They banged and knocked, shouting furiously, but Howard cared for nothing but getting home.

*

Howard locked the towering wooden door with what appeared to be a gold-plated lock, his heart beating painfully in his chest. After he did so, he turned round to see a fish sitting proudly upon a massive throne, a robe draped carefully over his body, and a crown sitting squarely on his fishy head.

“O King!” gasped the fisherman. “You look glorious.”

The king nodded gratefully.

“And you are?”

“Howard,” he said with a bow, “but you can call me Howie: that’s what my people back home dubbed me anyways.”

“Howie, hm? What are you here for?”

Howard studied his shoes. He wasn’t prepared for such a prompt question. He really should’ve thought ahead.

“Ah, well, you see,” mumbled Howard, embarrassed, “I need to get home and I-”

“Speak up! I cannot hear you when you speak with such a timid voice.”

“I need to get home, and I thought you may be able to help me.”

“Hm. I see, Howie of the humans.”

“You do? Wonderful, thank-”

“But I will not grant you your wish.”

Howard paused, his jaw dropping to the floor. He just stared at the king, dumbfounded.

“Why?” squeaked Howard. “I haven’t done… anything wrong…”

Howard realised that he was beginning to sound like Gillmore, but ignored that fact.

“Because,” growled the king, rising from his throne, appearing menacing and threatening. “I don’t help fishermen. Especially not one like you.”

The fish king stood up to his full height and slowly stepped down from his throne to face Howard.

“I’m not a fool. I know how you people think. You only want to eat us, kill us and harm us. And I ask you to leave, because I certainly will not help you.”

He threw off his robe, and Howard watched as it fell to the ground, and disintegrated into nothingness. Then off went his crown, and it too disappeared in a haze of black.

“King!” exclaimed Howard. “Your crown and robe, they-”

“Hush, human!” hissed the fish king, baring his teeth, which Howard did not realise were sharp and jagged. “I do not answer to your kind any more!”

Then suddenly, from behind, the door flung open and in ran the guards, led by none other than Gillmore.

“King…” snickered Gillmore. “I see that… you’ve met the human.”

“Quiet, you ingrate,” snapped the king rudely. “Your presence isn’t appreciated here. Only guards are allowed to help me, not random civilians.”

As he said this, the castle and the lake surrounding it slowly melted into black, falling apart into millions of strange particles that formed into a mass of void. To Howard, this moment felt like a stab in the heart, the world he found fascinating, crumbling into absolute silence. But to the fish creeping in on him, nothing was happening.

“Can’t you see it?!” yelled Howard, his eyes wild with fury. “This castle, this world, it’s gone! The place you called home: gone! Don’t you care?”

The fish did not answer, instead they encircled him, leaning over his head, ready to strike him. But then, just like the castle, they quickly splintered into dust, shattering their faces and bodies like nothing, leaving Howard alone, trapped in the void all around. 

*

He looked from side to side, frightened and hoping to see someone crawl out of the black, but no one came. He curled up into a ball, as words floated in his head.

Howard? Are you there? We need you back here.

The voice drifted into silence…

…and then a light shined brightly into Howard’s eyes, and after a moment of adjusting, he found himself at the surface of the lake, the sun setting in the distance, and Arthur’s face right in front, sitting in a little boat.

“There you are!” he said to Howard. “I thought you were dead out here, laying on your back in the middle of the lake.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Yeah! Plus, you’re soaking wet. I dunno what happened, but you’ve been out here for a while.”

Howard looked at his arm, studying the bright red, sunburnt skin.

“Can this stay between us?” asked Howard. “I don’t want my family finding out.”

Arthur nodded.

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

Arthur pulled the fisherman into his boat and swam back to shore, where Howard picked up his fishing gear and went home.

“See you Howie!”

“Bye, Arthur!"

And with that, they went their separate ways, and Howard vowed never to fish again.

“Actually, I’ll go on one more fishing trip tomorrow, and then I’ll stop for good.”

Or will he?

About the young writer

Mike is a regular participant in our Storytellers’ Club and Story Camps for young writers. This story was inspired by Alice in Wonderland, which we focussed on at one of our recent school holiday Story Camp workshops.

You’ll be able to read another of Mike’s stories in our 2025 Writ-Bits Anthology, alongside many other young authors in from the WOAF community!