The shimmer grew more intense, swirling beneath the surface like a storm contained within a bottle. And then, from the depths, a voice emerged—a soft murmur, as if time itself were speaking.
"Soriya..." The voice was familiar, yet strange. "Soriya, you have awakened the river. You have called to what has been asleep for far too long."
Soriya pulled her hand back, her pulse racing. She had heard of such things—the ancient myths told by the Elders. The River Tylea was not just a river, it was the lifeblood of time itself. It had the power to shape the past, to weave the present, and to glimpse the future. But that was all myth, wasn't it?
The water rippled again, this time in the shape of a face—no, a reflection of herself, but older, wiser, with eyes that carried the weight of ages.
"Who are you?" she whispered, mesmerized.
"I am the Guardian," the voice responded. "I have slumbered while time stagnated. But now, time stirs once more. It flows in response to your call, to your curiosity. You have awakened it, Soriya."
Soriya's mind raced. Could she control it? Could she shape time as the Elders had spoken of?
"How?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"You must learn to listen," the Guardian replied. "The river speaks in currents, in ripples. Every moment, every choice, every heartbeat, is a drop in this vast flow. You must listen closely, and only then can you learn to guide its path."