The early morning mist hovered over the river like a soft veil, curling and dissipating with each gentle breeze. The world was still wrapped in quiet, the sky painted with the pale light of dawn. Kael sat on a large rock by the river's edge, staring at the water's surface as it rippled lazily in the cool air. The smell of wet earth and fresh pine filled his senses, calming the storm that seemed to always churn just beneath his skin. It was a rare peace, one he was trying desperately to hold onto.
He'd come here for simplicity, for the kind of peace he couldn't find anywhere else. After everything that had happened—after all the chaos, the mistakes, the years of trying to understand his place in the world—he needed this. He needed the quiet.
Fishing had once been a favorite pastime of his, back when life hadn't been so complicated, before the weight of responsibility and the overwhelming uncertainty of his future had taken over. Back then, there was no need for thinking about power or consequences—just the thrill of the catch, the slow drift of time by the water.
"Catch anything yet?" Kira's voice broke the silence, soft but familiar. Kael glanced over his shoulder to see her approach, the soles of her boots crunching softly against the gravel path. Her auburn hair was tied back in a messy bun, and she was dressed for a hike, a worn leather jacket slung casually over her shoulders. She moved with the grace of someone who had spent far more time outdoors than indoors.
"Not yet," Kael replied, his voice low as he readjusted the fishing rod in his hands. "I'm just… clearing my head."
Kira raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a half-smile. "Clear your head? You've been staring at that bobber for the last half hour. I'm pretty sure you're just trying to zone out."
Kael chuckled, but it was a dry, humorless sound. "Maybe. Sometimes the world's a bit too much, you know?"
"I get it," she said, taking a seat next to him on the large rock. "But you're not going to catch anything if you don't at least try."
"I'm trying," Kael muttered, though his thoughts were a million miles away. The steady pull of the river, the soft sway of the trees, it was all meant to ground him, to remind him of simpler times. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape the nagging sense that he was running out of time. That something—he didn't know what—was slipping just out of his reach. The moment he thought he understood his place in the world, something new would come along to change everything.
"Want me to try?" Kira asked, nudging him with her elbow. "I'm pretty good at fishing, you know."
Kael shook his head. "No, I've got it. I just need some time to think."
Kira didn't press him further. She leaned back against the rock, folding her arms over her chest as she looked out at the river, her gaze distant. "Well, just don't get too lost in your head," she said quietly. "You've got a tendency to disappear when you do that."
Kael was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I'm trying to get better at that."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the occasional splash of water and the rustling of leaves in the wind. Kael adjusted his grip on the rod, casting his line once more. The bobber drifted out into the river, floating lightly as the gentle current took it. Kael's eyes followed the ripples on the water, focusing on the moment. He needed this. The simplicity. The peace.
Kira shifted beside him, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top of them. "So, what's been eating at you?" she asked after a while, her voice breaking the stillness.
Kael hesitated before responding. "It's just… everything. Life's complicated. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with all this. You know?"
Kira tilted her head, considering his words. "You mean, like, your life? Or the world?"
Kael ran a hand through his short, dark hair, looking out at the horizon. The early light of morning had begun to touch the treetops, casting long shadows over the river. "I don't know," he said. "Both, I guess. I can't seem to figure out where I fit anymore. Everything feels like it's changing so fast, and I just… I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing."
"I think that's the problem with having too much time to think," Kira said with a chuckle. "You get lost in the what ifs."
"Maybe," Kael murmured. His mind wandered again, and he found himself staring at the water. It was as if his thoughts were always rushing, always moving too quickly, and the river was the only thing that was still, steady in a way that grounded him.
Suddenly, the bobber twitched. Kael's attention snapped back to the line. His heart quickened, but he didn't move yet. He had learned enough from fishing to know that sometimes, a slight pull didn't mean a fish was on the line—it could just be the current, or debris. Still, he watched it intently.
A few seconds passed, and the bobber dipped beneath the surface.
"Kael," Kira said, her voice sharp. "It's moving."
"I know," Kael said quietly, a frown pulling at his lips. He set his feet firmly on the ground and tightened his grip on the rod, feeling the tension of the line. The bobber had sunk, but there was no sign of a fish yet. He began to reel it in slowly, inch by inch, pulling the line tight as he braced himself for what might come.
But instead of the typical tug, a strange, sharp resistance met him—a force that seemed to pull back. His muscles strained as he tugged once, then again, feeling the line fight against him. This wasn't a normal catch. The sensation was wrong, too strong, too… persistent.
Kira sat up, her body leaning forward. "What the?" Her voice was edged with confusion. "Kael, what is that?"
Kael gritted his teeth. He wasn't sure what was happening, but it felt like something larger was on the other side of the line, something far more powerful than any fish he'd ever caught. He pulled harder, reeling in, but the pressure on the line only grew. The water around them seemed to stir, as if whatever was below the surface was putting up a fight.
"Kael, stop!" Kira warned, her eyes wide. "It's not right. Something's off."
But Kael wasn't listening. His grip tightened. He had to know what it was. The tension was building—he could feel it with every pull, a steady pressure as though he were pulling against something much larger than anything he had expected.
"Kael—" Kira started, but it was too late.
With a sudden jolt, the rod snapped back in his hands, and the line snapped tight with an incredible force, sending Kael tumbling backward onto the rocks. His heart pounded as he looked at the water, still and undisturbed once more.
"What just happened?" Kira's voice was tight with concern as she moved quickly to help him up.
Kael remained seated on the rocks for a moment, staring at the water. The line was gone. The bobber was nowhere to be seen. But something had happened, something he couldn't explain. The water had stirred as if something large had broken the surface, but now… there was nothing. No fish. No movement.
Kael stood still for a long moment, his eyes glued to the river, as if expecting the water to reveal the secret of what had just happened. The stillness of the morning had been shattered, replaced by an unsettling sense of something shifting beneath the surface. Kira's voice broke through his thoughts again, but it felt distant, as though it was coming from far away.
"Kael... what do you think it was?" she asked, her voice tight with a mix of curiosity and caution.
"I don't know," he said, the words escaping his lips more as a murmur than an answer. His gaze remained fixed on the water, the rhythmic flow of the current now somehow alien to him. He felt a flicker of something—distant, but unmistakable. The faintest hint of a presence, like a whisper just beyond the edge of his hearing. He shivered involuntarily.
Kira reached over, touching his arm lightly. "You're not okay, are you?"
Kael turned to her, his face drawn with a tension he couldn't quite explain. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice distant. "Something felt... wrong. Like something was trying to get through, or—"
"Like the water tried to pull you in?" she finished for him, her eyebrows knitting together. "That's exactly what it felt like."
"Exactly," Kael said, his breath coming in shallow bursts. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog that had descended over his mind. It felt like the world around him was vibrating just slightly out of sync, as though reality itself was shifting and warping.
Kira frowned. "You're not making sense. We should head back to town. You need to rest. Maybe it's just—"
"No," Kael interrupted quickly, a surge of determination rising within him. "We need to stay. Something happened here, and I need to understand it. If I go back now, I'll never figure it out."
"Are you sure?" Kira pressed, her eyes filled with concern but also something else—curiosity, perhaps, or something closer to fear. She could see how deeply unsettled he was, and though she wanted to be the voice of reason, she also knew Kael's resolve. Once he set his mind on something, nothing could deter him. But this felt different. "Kael, I don't think this is something we can just... figure out. Not alone."
"I don't care," Kael said firmly. "I can't let it go. Not this time."
Kira hesitated, and for a moment, Kael thought she might argue further. Instead, she sighed and gave a small nod. "Alright. But if anything happens, we leave. Promise?"
"I promise," Kael replied, though the words felt hollow. In truth, he wasn't sure he would be able to leave—whatever it was that had shifted within him, he knew he couldn't ignore it. Not anymore.
They sat in silence for a few moments, Kael staring into the water as Kira took a few steps back to gather her things. His mind spun with possibilities. What had just happened? He could feel the weight of it pressing against him—an inexplicable force, something that had slipped through the cracks of the world and touched him, however fleetingly. It was as if the river itself had responded to him, drawn to him in a way that felt unnatural.
The faint sense of something pulling at him, urging him to go deeper, lingered in the air like a strange calling. His fingers twitched, as though itching to reach out again, to test the water once more. But he resisted. His gut told him that whatever had happened wasn't something to be trifled with. It was dangerous. And yet, his instincts also told him it was something he needed to understand.
"Kael." Kira's voice broke his thoughts again. She was standing at the edge of the water, looking out over the ripples, her posture tense. "Look."
He turned, his heart rate spiking for no reason he could pinpoint. Kira was pointing toward the far end of the river, where the mist had begun to thicken once more. The air seemed to shimmer there, as if the fog was thicker than it should be, swirling unnaturally, almost as if something was moving within it.
"Do you see that?" Kira asked, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't like that before."
Kael squinted, feeling a chill creep down his spine. It was hard to make out through the mist, but the faintest shape seemed to shift just beneath the surface of the river, something large, something that didn't belong. It was moving, circling, as if aware of them.
His breath caught in his throat as his eyes locked onto the shape, his pulse hammering in his ears. For a moment, he couldn't breathe, couldn't move—just stared at the mist, at the shifting form beneath it.
"Kael," Kira said again, her voice sharp with urgency. "We need to go. Now."
But Kael's feet remained rooted to the ground, his body unwilling to move, to tear his gaze away from the strange, swirling shape in the water. There was a presence there, something vast, something ancient. The pull of it was undeniable. It felt like the river itself was calling to him—no, demanding something from him.
"What is it?" Kael finally whispered, the words slipping out in a strained rasp. "What's down there?"
Kira's face was pale, her eyes wide with fear. "I don't know," she whispered back, "but I don't want to find out. Not now."
Kael didn't respond. He was too absorbed in the strange sensation, in the unnatural pull that seemed to be drawing him closer to the water. His body trembled with the force of it, and he could feel the air growing colder, thicker, as if something ancient and terrible was stirring just beneath the surface.