I stood on the shore of the lake, unable to move. The mist swirled around me, soft and thick like smoke. I breathed slowly, feeling how with each breath the fear seemed to dissolve inside me, leaving behind a strange, cold calm. It was so quiet here I could hear the beating of my own heart.
And then she appeared.
Out of the water, gliding forth as if woven from mist and the lake's own depths. At first, I saw only a silhouette—a slender female form shrouded in silvery haze, with faint outlines of arms, shoulders, long hair streaming through the water. With each step, the lake parted for her, barely touching her feet—weightless and silent.
It was the Nereid.
I knew who she was, though I had never seen anything like her before. She was both beautiful and unnerving—too perfect to be human, too real to be an illusion.
She stopped at the shore and looked at me. Her eyes were deep, green with hints of blue—like water in old, bottomless wells. A cold wave passed through my body from her gaze, but I didn't look away.
– You've come, – her voice was soft, quiet, yet clear, as if she spoke directly into my mind.
– You were waiting for me?
She smiled—faintly, sadly, and calmly.
– Of course. Someone always comes. But not everyone is able to see.
– Why me? – I asked, my voice trembling slightly. – Why were you waiting for me?
The Nereid stepped closer. I barely held myself from stepping back. She gave off a strange sense of power, like a spirit of ancient waters—not exactly hostile, but not harmless either.
– Because you hear, Ellie, – she said softly. – You see more than others. You hear the whisper of water, of trees, of stone. You've always heard it, even if you didn't realize. That's why I waited—for the moment when you would choose to come.
Suddenly, I recalled everything from the past days: how the water moved strangely, the footprints that appeared from nowhere, the symbols that formed right in front of me. It all came together, and the realization made my head spin.
– And the children? – I whispered. – They tried to stop me. Why?
She lowered her gaze, and for the first time, I saw something like sorrow flicker in her eyes.
– Because they were here before, Ellie. They once came, driven by curiosity, by a child's desire to know what lies beyond. That curiosity consumed them so deeply they couldn't go back. Now they are trapped between worlds. Their fear is not for themselves. Their fear is for those who may repeat their path. This place has always been a turning point in the lives of travelers with a certain kind of mind.
I felt a lump rise in my throat.
– Are you going to trap me here too?
She looked at me, and her gaze held no threat now—only calm wisdom and understanding, as if she saw right through me like a drop of clear water.
– No, Ellie. I don't hold you here. Your unstoppable curiosity brought you. You're here because you were meant to know—not because the path led you. You did not come here by accident. Ellie, you must learn to see what others can't. So that, one day, you might help those children find peace.
I froze. Her words echoed within me, touching something deep I hadn't yet understood.
– What exactly do I need to see?
She gently touched the surface of the water with her fingertips, and the lake shimmered, glowing like a mirror reflecting stars not present in the sky. I stepped forward, peered down—and saw my own reflection. But it wasn't the face I knew. It was me, yet not me: older, calmer, with eyes full of clarity and wisdom.
– Yourself, – the Nereid whispered. – The one you can become, if you keep going. If you allow yourself to hear what the world is telling you.
I slowly raised my eyes, understanding that I was no longer just a researcher. I was a witness, a keeper of stories, a voice for those who could no longer speak.
– I want to help them, – I said with certainty, feeling clarity for the first time. – The children. I don't know how.
The Nereid smiled, this time warmly, approvingly.
– You'll find the way. Listen. Listen to this world. It will tell you everything you need.
I stood at the water's edge. The Nereid loomed above me, and everything felt logical, calm, right. She spoke, and I listened. Her voice wrapped around me like thick mist, and my thoughts became soft, fluid like the lake itself. I wanted to ask one more question, about the children, I think.
I wanted to... but I couldn't. My lips no longer obeyed.
I tried to lift my hands nothing. They wouldn't move.
At first, I thought they'd gone numb, but then I realized: I couldn't feel them at all.
Slowly, as if freezing, the cold rose through my legs. From the inside, not the outside. I looked down my hands had gone paler than they should be. Almost transparent.
The Nereid kept talking. Gently. Lulling.
And then something clicked in my mind.
– You…
I didn't finish. But her eyes understood. And she stopped pretending.
– You hear. You feel. Which means... you taste better.
Her smile didn't vanish—but it changed. Like the smile of a creature that had eaten many humans before.
I jerked back or tried to. My body barely obeyed. My legs felt stuck in sand. I jerked my shoulders, trying to escape whatever held me, but there was nothing to see. Only air, only moisture.
– They tried to warn me, – I whispered.
The Nereid tilted her head.
– Yes. And you didn't listen. You humans—whisper a few praises in your ear, and you already hold your noses high, never the other way around.
I grabbed my dagger. My hand trembled. Fingers like wax. Clutching the hilt, I lunged sideways—pure instinct. She waved her arm, and a wave surged in like a tentacle to knock me down. I rolled, drew a second dagger, and plunged into the water knee-deep.
– A mistake. A big one, – she hissed.
Now she moved fast. A lunge, like a predator in water. Smooth, without splashes. I dodged, twisting, my dagger sliced along her shoulde, but didn't wound. The water on her skin parted and closed again.
– That won't work, – she whispered near my ear.
I struck downward, stabbing the water beneath me. A splash, a flash of energy. She recoiled. I pulled a pouch of salt from my belt and hurled it. She hissed, covering her face.
– You dry, voiceless wretch! – she shrieked.
I leapt onto the shallows, using my legs like springs, pushing off tree roots. Dagger in the air, a sharp strike to her chest. She flew back but didn't fall. The water around her frothed, and tendrils burst forth, spiraling like vines. I dove back in, spinning and slicing into the inner part of the mass.
She howled. Not human. A violet wail that made my head spin.
– You wanted to see, Ellie? Then look!
Her true form rose from the water—tall, made of mist and bone, woven from roots. A mixture of horror and beauty. Hair like seaweed. Transparent skin with veins that flowed in reverse. Ahead, no longer a woman. The image of one.Tall, eerily slender, sculpted from glassy slime, seaweed for hair, empty pits for eyes. She didn't walk, she glided, silent. The water pulled back for her.
If someone had seen it, they might've called it a dance.
But this was a fight to the death.
I struck. Dodged. Cut where water was weakest, under the ribs, at the neck.
She struck with waves. Crushed with sound.
We circled like two warriors in an arena.
Another wave hurled me against the lake's edge, stronger than the rest.
…The roar faded.
Only the pulse of the water remained. I stood knee-deep in freezing slime, right arm numb. Breathing was hard. The air heavy, wet. I tried to rise. Tried to move.
The sharp traps? They worked only for a moment. The spirit's bones stuck together and closed like soap. The packet of salt she kept for swamp muck? She had already emptied it all, the water had swallowed it up as if it had never happened. The fire potions had gone out before they were thrown. The cold was everywhere. Inside, outside.
At one point, I stumbled. She lunged. I waited. My body trembled. Daggers in hand my last resort. I jumped forward—sharp strike to the shoulder. A quick twist at her hip. Dodge. Slash to the side. Hit. I saw it slice through the watery flesh. Then it sealed. No scar.
The Nereid tilted her head. Not angry. Almost… regretful. Then struck not a real hit, a wave-blow. I crashed into tree branches. Tried to grab one failed.
Ringing in my ears. Eyes darting. Breath ragged. I didn't let myself rest.
If I stopped, I wouldn't get up again.
Step by step, I waded into the lake. My hand was split open. Skin torn. Blood spilled into the warm water.
A sharp sound. A hiss. Not loud, but harsh. The Nereid recoiled, not like before. The water beneath her trembled.
What...?
I stared at my blood. Crimson drops rippled outward. She avoided them.
Her surface quivered, as if boiling from within.
– It hurts you?
She can't stand blood.
Not because she fears it. Because it's a contamination. A distortion. To her, the water is her skin. And foreign blood like a wound.
I didn't know how much longer I could hold out. I was weak. Wounded.
But I knew—this was it. This was the chance. Dagger to the throat. Second to the gut. Not hers. Mine.
Blood flowed. Warm. Bright. Alive. It ran down my chin, my throat, my stomach, into the lake. The water hissed. The Nereid shuddered. Her body rippled like a hook had torn through it. She pulled back. Her face flickered.
Pain. Blindness. Disgust. She lunged hit the steel waiting for her. We collapsed together. The water boiled. The air screamed. I felt no pain.
Only heat. Only rupture, like the fabric of the world had split for a second.
– Yeah, you don't like it? I don't like it either.
Blood poured faster.
But she saw now: The Nereid wasn't coming closer. She wavered. The water around her bubbled like her shell was melting. The Nereid howled. The lake recoiled from me, as if even the swamp no longer accepted me. The spirit began to dissolve, like frost crust cracking apart, like a cloud of vapor. My vision blurred. I couldn't focus. I turned, but I knew I wouldn't make it. Quickly, I fumbled in my bag, drank a potion.
When I awoke, I was on the shore. Soaked. Freezing. Alive. Next to me lay her medallion. No one else was there. No children. Not her.
I just lay there, breathing. I heard only my own heartbeat. And then...
Thank you.
I smiled. And passed out.