The river shimmered like liquid glass, catching the morning light in soft ripples. Kriya stepped toward the edge, rolling up his sleeves as a breath of wind lifted his hair. He didn't look at Astra—just knelt, cupped his hands into the water, and began to move them gently.
The surface trembled.
Then it began to rise.
Water lifted, suspended in the air like silver thread drawn from silk. With slow, deliberate movements, Kriya guided it, shaping it—letting it breathe into form.
A droplet spun.
Then another.
Then—fluttering wings.
Astra stirred, her sobs slowing as the sound of rhythmic splashes reached her ears. She raised her head, red-cheeked and bleary-eyed.
And blinked.
Above the river, delicate forms shimmered in motion—birds, translucent and glowing, burst from the surface, dancing upward in slow arcs. They didn't flap like real birds, but glided, like dreams sketched in moonlight. One after another, they soared and circled before diving back into the river.
Kriya moved his hands again—more fluid now, more certain.
And the water obeyed.
First came the butterflies dozens of them—delicate wings of water and light, fluttering with impossible grace. Their translucent forms shimmered with every beat, catching the sunlight like floating gems. They drifted above the river like scattered petals on the wind.
Astra's eyes widened. She had stopped crying without realizing.
Then a new shape emerged sleek, swift, and glistening. A deer. No, two. Then three.
They ran not through the forest, but across the river itself. Hooves made of flowing water barely skimmed the surface, sending out ripples in their wake. Their bodies were carved from mist and light, ephemeral yet full of life. One paused, tilting its head toward Astra as if in recognition, then leapt forward and vanished into a spray of droplets.
Her lips parted, but she made no sound.
Kriya continued, unaware of her awed gaze. His hands moved like a weaver's, threading beauty from water and silence.
A pair of swans glided just above the surface, their necks curving into the shape of a heart before dissolving into vapor.
Astra stepped forward without thinking, spellbound.
She had forgotten the weight in her chest, the sting in her ribs, the ache in her heart. There was only this—this quiet wonder blooming before her, a world made of water and light.
Her body relaxed, her arms dropping to her sides, fingers brushing against the air as if she could feel it, the softness, the beauty, the peace.
She whispered, afraid to break the spell, "Is this… real?"
No one answered. Only the river whispered back.
Then—
Two tiny figures rose from the river's skin—children. Barefoot, laughing, weightless. One chased the other through the air in slow motion, water splashing in trails behind them. Their outlines flickered with sunlight, hair swaying, arms stretched, feet barely touching the surface.
The girl stopped to catch a butterfly a shimmer of blue. The boy caught her hand, and they ran together, weightless and gleaming in the early light.
Astra stood slowly, breath caught in her throat. Her tear-stained face was tilted upward, eyes wide with something between awe and ache.
The world had gone quiet. Only the river moved—alive with light and memory.
She watched as the children ran in circles, laughing, weaving between butterflies and deer's made of water. Then she heard it.
Laughter.
Soft. Faint. Distant, yet close. Like a memory returning.
Astra blinked. She turned to Kriya, startled, as if to ask—Do you hear it too?
But Kriya hadn't noticed her. His gaze remained fixed on the water, lips pressed in quiet concentration as his fingers moved in slow, deliberate gestures. Yet there was something in his expression not just focus, but something deeper flickering behind his eyes as he watched the two figures. Something unspoken. Something remembered.
Then, the little girl slowed. She turned not toward the river, not toward Kriya—but toward Astra.
Astra's breath caught again.
The boy behind the girl faded melting into the surface with barely a splash. The girl alone remained, walking toward the riverbank, barefoot and bright as a dream. Astra, without knowing why, stepped forward. And then another step. The water was so close now she could feel the cool mist on her skin.
The two figures faced each other at the river's edge. Then, together, they raised their hands, palms open.
Astra hesitated.
Then reached out. And the moment their hands touched—
The figure burst like a bubble, soundless and sudden. Droplets scattered into the air, catching the sunlight like tiny stars. Glowing orbs floated up around Astra, surrounding her in a quiet, breathtaking halo like a dream fading with the dawn, like a memory slipping back into water.
She stood frozen, her hand still outstretched in the air.
Then—she smiled.
It was slow. Soft. Almost sad. But it was real. A smile that trembled slightly, as if holding back tears, yet glowed with something deeper relief, or maybe the first quiet flicker of peace.
She brought her hand to her chest, gently, as though trying to hold on to something she knew she couldn't keep, but didn't want to forget.
The bubbles floated higher, drifting away. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Astra slowly turned to Kriya. He was already watching her.
Their eyes met silent, unreadable—and yet something passed between them. Something that pulsed beneath the surface like the quiet thrum of a forgotten name.
Without a word, they began to walk toward each other.
Each step felt heavier for Astra, though the ground was light beneath her bare feet. Her heart had begun to race—faster, louder. Too fast for no reason she could name. It wasn't fear. But it wasn't calm either.
Something in her chest fluttered wildly, as if her soul recognized something before her mind could.
They stopped at arm's length.
Their hands rose slow, hesitant, yet perfectly in sync. Fingers brushed. Then clasped. Their fingers wove together, palms meeting in quiet finality—that's when Astra's eyes widened.
In a single breath, her pupils dilated, black swallowing the color, as if a veil was yanked from her mind. A flash too quick to grasp. Blurred figures. Screams. Firelight and shadows dancing across stone. A child's cry. A mark. A sword. A voice whispering her name, but not like anyone had ever said it before.
And then—the wind.
A violent gust, sudden and cold, tore between them.
Astra staggered, her body acting before her mind could follow—she shoved Kriya hard, her strength laced with panic. He stumbled backward, caught off guard, and fell into the river with a loud splash, startled look.
Astra dropped to her knees as if struck, clutching her head. Her breathing hitched. Fast. Shallow. Her fingers tangled in her hair as she bent forward, trembling, trying to hold the pieces of the vision that had already begun to slip away.
"W-what was that…" she gasped, eyes wide, unfocused. And yet, even through the sudden haze, something registered.
She had pushed him… Too hard.
Astra blinked, her breath caught in her throat. Her legs trembled beneath her, heartbeat pounding like war drums in her ears. She staggered forward, eyes sweeping across the surface of the river.
Nothing.
Only silence.
No ripples. No movement. No Kriya.
Her breath hitched. A sharp pain twisted through her chest.
Why isn't he coming up?
Terror spread through her like ink in water. Without a second thought, she leapt.
The river swallowed her whole.
Darkness.
Bubbles curled past her ears, the world silent—
but not still.
Astra's eyes snapped open beneath the water—burning, wide, frantic—searching through the blur and shadow.
Then she saw him drifting downward, limbs loose, eyes shut. Still. Too still.
She kicked downward, cutting through the current. Her arms reached. Her fingers found his. Clutched. Pulled him close. slipping from her lips as she tapped his chin, then pressed a trembling hand to his chest.
Please.
Please…
Thump.
There. A heartbeat.
Relief crashed into her so suddenly it stole what breath she had left. there was no time to pause. She tightened her grip around his torso, one arm wrapped beneath his shoulders, the other cradling his head. And kicked upward.
They broke through the surface in a burst of light and breath. Astra gasped, drawing in a ragged breath as she dragged him toward the shore, limbs burning. The shallows caught her knees as she stumbled forward, half-collapsing, pulling him with her. His legs still drifted in the water, but his upper body rested against her lap, water running in rivulets down his face and hair.
"Kriya?" she choked out, her voice hoarse and trembling. She patted his cheek once. Then again. Harder.
"Kriya… Wake up!"
No response.
"KRIYA!" Her voice cracked, raw with panic.
She shook him now, desperation bleeding through every movement. Water dripping from her arms as her breath came too fast, too loud. Her soaked hair clung to her cheeks as she hovered over him, her face pale and stricken.