Soon, I reached the stream.
It struck me as strange that I couldn’t hear the water, but I brushed the thought aside. As I stepped closer, I stopped short, nearly stumbling. The surface of the stream shimmered like glass, sparkling like a thousand crystals flowing in endless ribbons.
I froze, mouth parted, the sticky stems of wildflowers slipping from my fingers. My lips, still dusted with petal sugar, tingled with sudden thirst.
I dropped to my knees and plunged my hands into the stream, scooping water to my mouth. I drank quickly, slurping in greedy mouthfuls, feeling the cold rush down my throat.
In that moment, it hit me that everything I’d been searching for was right here. A strange, sudden need for more washed over me. Before I could stop myself, I stepped into the stream.
My legs, short but steady, found the rocks beneath the surface and held firm against the current. The water climbed to my waist, cool as it brushed along my sides. I smiled and glanced down at my reflection, but the smile didn’t last.
The silver light around me seemed to grow brighter, casting a pale glow across the stream. My reflection shimmered on the surface, and I noticed dark streaks trailing down my cheeks.
I leaned in slowly, squinting.
The reflection slowly took shape, and something in my chest tightened as a chill crept down my spine.
I didn’t recognize the face looking back.
It had my features, my mouth, my eyes, my nose, but it wasn’t me. It didn’t look human, it looked like a monster. I stared at it, frozen in place. The reflection mirrored my expression as I tried to scream, but no sound came out. My lips parted in silence, and the face in the water did the same.
Then the water stilled, the current fading to a stop. Now the image before me was unmistakable.
A woman stared back.
Her eyes were cloaked in darkness, her mouth curled into a harsh frown. Dark streaks ran down her face, and as she blinked, onyx tears slid along her cheeks. She looked like something out of a nightmare. I wanted to pull away, but something held me there, drawn to her.
As the shock wore off, I studied her more closely. Beneath the sharpness of her features, there was something else. She seemed to carry a deep pain, almost sadness. I raised a hand to my face, and the reflection mirrored me. When my finger brushed my cheek, I watched her wipe away one of her own black tears.
I felt a strange sympathy for the woman, though I couldn’t explain why. Part of me wanted to reach out, to tell her everything would be all right. I opened my mouth to speak, hoping to ask who she was, but the silver light around me began to dim. The water rippled, and the air crackled with energy. I searched the surface, but her image was already fading.
I reached out. She reached too, but in the next instant, she was gone.
The water stirred, slow at first, then spinning with force. I tried to move toward the shore, but thick undergrowth had wrapped around my ankles. I struggled to break free, pulling hard, but the vines clung tighter with every movement.
A shallow whirlpool formed at my feet, swirling faster. Wind lashed through my hair, dark strands flying across my face. I cupped my hands over my temples to shield myself, but the wind only howled louder. My body pitched against the current, the water climbing steadily past my waist, then to my collarbones.
It felt as though the stream had come alive, and it didn’t want to let me go.
In the chaos, a sudden memory surfaced: The waters had spoken to Mother before. Were they trying to reach me now?
I knew I should’ve feared the rising tide, but I didn’t. Instead, I feltsomething stir within me, a strange connection to the current. I stopped resisting, and almost instantly, the struggle eased.
The stream crept up to my throat as I let the silence take hold of my mind. The silver light returned, threading through the current. The quiet no longer frightened me, it felt familiar, like an old friend. I welcomed it, letting it settle into my bones.
I closed my eyes and furrowed my brow, trying to focus. Time slipped away. And then, through the stillness, I heard it.
A voice.
It began as a faint murmur, then clearer. It was calling my name.
It reached me on a whispering wind. From my right ear, the voice breathed gently, like a soft caress:Odessa. Then the wind shifted, brushing my left cheek as it murmured again:Odessa.
I felt its warmth press lightly against my brow:Odessa.
The waters rose around my neck and pulled me under. Just before I slipped beneath the surface, the wind whispered once more:
Odessa, child of pain, woman of wrath.
