Shadow's Whisperer

Lerina found herself in a small but cozy house. The walls were lined with smooth wood, and shelves carved into the bark held jars of herbs and shiny stones. A soft glow emanated from crystal-like fungi growing in the corners, casting the room in a calming blue light.

As she sat up, her eyes widened at the sight of her hosts. They resembled frogs but were distinctly humanoid. Standing on two legs, their bodies were covered in smooth, shiny skin ranging from deep green to earthy brown. Their large, bulging eyes were rimmed with gold, and their mouths curved into wide, perpetual smiles. Their long, webbed fingers and toes glistened with moisture. They wore knee-length, plain kilt, white in color. The fabrics were made of linen, and their waist were fastened by papyrus ropes.

The largest among them, who appeared to be the father, stepped forward. His voice was soft and resonant, with a curious croak at the end of each sentence. "Do not be afraid, little one. You are safe here in our home."

Lerina, still stunned but not frightened, asked hesitantly, "Who… who are you? Why am I here?"

Another figure, smaller but equally kind in demeanor, answered. This one was a female, likely the mother. "We are the Golkis from the Murra tribe. We are Nashigs. Our son told us of your kindness. You saved him from those cruel children who trapped him. For this, we owe you a debt of gratitude."

The smallest of the Golkis, a young frog-like Nashiq with vibrant green skin, hopped forward excitedly. "It was me! You saved me from that box! Humans are bad, but you… you're different!"

The father nodded solemnly. "Humans are dangerous. Greedy. They harm the land, the water, the creatures… But you are not like them. Your heart is pure. We brought you here to protect you."

Lerina's eyes filled with confusion. "But my family… they'll be worried. I need to go back to them."

The mother gently placed a webbed hand on Lerina's shoulder. "Child, you do not understand the danger you are in. An evil Nashiq left a mark on you. Soon it will return to get you. If you stay with you parents, you will not be safe. But here, you are safe."

Tears welled in Lerina's eyes, her voice breaking as she whispered, "But my family… I love them. I can't just leave them behind."

The mother's golden-rimmed eyes softened with compassion. She gently cupped Lerina's cheek with her webbed hand, her touch cool but comforting. "You are part of our family now, little one. We will care for you, shelter you, and keep you safe. I know this pains you now, but in time, your heart will find peace here. Trust us—your safety depends on it."

Lerina hesitated, her throat tight as she fought back more tears. Slowly, she nodded, a faint gesture of acceptance. But inside, her heart ached, heavy with longing and sadness she couldn't ignore.

During her days in the forest, Lerina came to realize that it was alive with magic and mystery. Outside the Golkis house, clusters of glowing mushrooms dotted the forest floor, their soft luminescence bathing the undergrowth in shades of blue and green. They pulsed faintly, as if alive, their light creating intricate patterns that danced across the tree trunks and the mossy carpet. Glowing blue fireflies drifted lazily through the air, illuminating the night with a thousand tiny stars. The forest seem like a world suspended between dream and reality.

The food Lerina was given consisted of vibrant fruits, tender mushrooms, and crystal clear, sweet liquid freshly drawn from the trees. The fruits were unlike anything she had ever seen—glowing faintly in soft hues of orange, purple, red and green. When she bit into one, its juice burst onto her tongue, sweet and tangy with a flavor that seemed to dance in her mouth.

The mushrooms were delicate, with a savory taste that melted in her mouth, their texture soft and silky. The crystal clear liquid was the most extraordinary of all; it was sweet and refreshing, it's flavour unlike anything she had ever tasted. Every bite and sip was a revelation, making her feel as if she were tasting magic itself.

Though the forest dazzled her senses, her heart ached for home. The Golkis treated her kindly, sharing their wisdom about the forest and their simple, harmonious life. They spoke of other Nashiq tribes—some peaceful and welcoming, like the Murras, and others dangerous and predatory, like the Asakkus. But no amount of kindness could quiet the longing in her chest. She missed her mother's embrace, her father's voice, her grandmother's stew, her siblings' laughter, and the familiarity of her home.

One night, as the soft glow of bioluminescent fungi bathed her small room in a faint blue light, Lerina sat on the edge of her bed, her mind restless. Shadows danced gently on the wooden walls, and the distant hum of nocturnal creatures wove a lullaby that should have comforted her—but it only reminded her of how far she was from home.

It was then, in the stillness of the night, that she made her decision. She would leave. She would find her way back home, no matter the cost. Her heart raced with both fear and resolve.

When the Golkis, the Nashiqs who had taken her in, finally succumbed to the pull of deep sleep, their gentle snores echoing through the hollow treehouse, Lerina crept to the door. She hesitated, her hand resting on the carved wooden frame, guilt pricking at her conscience for leaving without a word. But she knew they wouldn't understand—couldn't understand—her yearning for the world beyond their enchanted forest.

Silently, she slipped out into the cool night air. The vast canopy of trees above glimmered with faint moonlight, casting a silvery sheen on the forest floor. A shiver ran down her spine, not from the cool forest air, but from a deeper, primal instinct. The forest felt watchful, alive with unseen eyes and unheard whispers. Every snap of a twig, every rustle of undergrowth, distant hoots, and faint growls sent a jolt of adrenaline through her.

The forest floor, usually a comforting carpet of moss and fallen leaves, now seemed to shift and writhe beneath her feet, each step a tentative exploration into the unknown. Her heart pounded, but she whispered to herself, "I have to get home," and she pressed forward.

The faint gleam of moonlight guided her steps as she followed the path of a shimmering river. The water glowed with a silver light, its surface reflecting the constellations above. Beneath its flow, bioluminescent fish with flowing fins glided gracefully.

When the path brought her to the riverbank, Lerina knelt to splash the cool, glowing water on her face, the chill soothing her nerves. She didn't notice the inky black depths swirling downstream.

Suddenly, something wet and cold coiled around her ankle. She gasped, her heart leaping as a slick black, vein-like tendril slithered up her leg. Another lashed out, tightening around her other ankle and yanking her toward the water.

"No!" Lerina screamed, clawing at the ground as the tendrils pulled her closer to the churning river. The water erupted violently, revealing a monstrous shadow—its red eyes glowing like embers, its jagged mouth gaping wide.

She thrashed, her nails digging into the earth, but the tendrils were relentless. They coiled around her arms, binding her as she was dragged into the icy depths. The freezing water closed over her head, muffling her screams.

In the murky darkness, the creature loomed closer, its massive form twisting and shifting unnaturally. Its jagged maw stretched impossibly wide, and red eyes burned with malevolence. Lerina's lungs burned, her struggles weakening as despair took hold.

Then, just as her vision began to fade, a searing golden light pierced the darkness. The tendrils slackened, recoiling as a figure descended through the water. Encased in radiant light, they moved with impossible speed, slicing through the shadowy tendrils with precise, fluid motions. Each strike sent golden shockwaves rippling through the water, forcing the creature to retreat.

The figure reached Lerina, their hand outstretched. As soon as their fingers touched hers, a rush of warmth surged through her body, melting away the numbing cold and filling her with a sense of safety.

The golden light around them flared, growing brighter and brighter until it enveloped them both in a blinding brilliance. The dark, churning waters dissolved into nothingness, and the looming shadow let out a final, anguished wail before vanishing entirely, leaving behind only stillness and light.

The figure grasped Lerina firmly, pulling her upward with fluid strength before laying her gently on the riverbank. She coughed and gasped for air, her body trembling from the ordeal. The figure knelt beside her, with a steady motion, they placed a glowing hand over her chest, and a soothing warmth radiated through her, easing her ragged breaths and calming her frantic heart. "You're safe now," they said, their voice steady and reassuring.

Tears streamed down Lerina's cheeks. "I-I thought I was going to die. I thought that thing was going to eat me."

"Shh," he said softly, his voice a calm breeze against the storm of her fear. He patted her back with a steady hand. "It's over. They won't come back."

Lerina looked up, her tear-streaked eyes meeting those of her savior. He was a boy, no older than herself, yet there was something undeniably otherworldly about him. His features were both delicate and striking—pale skin that glowed softly like moonlight, luminous blue eyes that held the tranquil depths of a pristine lake, and hair as white as freshly fallen snow. His white robes shimmered faintly, flowing with an unearthly grace that seemed to ripple with his every movement. Long, layered robes draped around him, adorned with intricate embroidery that glinted like threads spun from starlight. He was beautiful in a way that made her heart stutter, as though he had stepped out of a dream.