041. Adrift

Mujnön’s voice cut through the chaos, commanding Liriénka to lead the frightened niylaths deeper into the island's heart. His word was law, especially as both a high commander of the Arüniylath forces and head of the formidable Elthié family. Reluctance tightened in her chest, but Liriénka obeyed without hesitation, guiding the panicked niylaths—males, females, and children from every caste—toward the Onurïmya field, the sacred grounds where the Innarin ceremonies were held. The air was thick with tension as they moved, each step echoing the growing dread that clung to them like a shadow.
From the stone field encircled by towering temples, the distant cries of the niylath forces and the guttural roars of monstrous creatures clashed, their sounds echoing in terrifying harmony. Fear spread faster than the wind’s whisper, gripping the hearts of those who could hear but not see the horrors unfolding. In the midst of the panic, Erynthi, alongside another Méagni sorcerer, began chanting an incantation foreign to Liriénka’s ears. It was forbidden magic—a spell not spoken in generations, one that reached beyond their realm.
The air before them rippled, shimmering like disturbed water, coiling into a dark vortex that formed a gateway to another dimension. Shadows flickered within its depths, and the very sight of it sent a chill down Liriénka’s spine. Without hesitation, Erynthi turned to her daughter, her voice urgent but steady. "Enter the portal and make sure the path is clear," she commanded. Liriénka’s heart raced as she stepped forward, the unknown beckoning from within the swirling darkness.
With a spear gripped tightly in one hand and a dagger sheathed at her hip, Liriénka stepped through the swirling vortex, her every muscle tensed in anticipation. The moment her feet touched the strange, damp grass of the foreign world, a sudden gust of wind howled behind her. She spun around, eyes wide as the portal flickered and collapsed in on itself.
Her heart sank.
The shimmering gateway sealed shut, leaving only the faint hum of fading magic in its wake. Liriénka lunged toward it, but it was too late. The connection had severed, stranding her in a world she had never seen before. Alone, with no way back, she stood frozen for a breathless moment, scanning the unfamiliar terrain that stretched endlessly around her—silent, alien, and unnervingly still.
Liriénka arrived at Situ Cukul as the final vestiges of night yielded to the first hesitant whispers of dawn. The soothing dark sky had melted to a cold, oppressive gray, casting a pall over the scattered tents below. The flickering embers of a nearly extinguished campfire sent eerie, dancing shadows across the ground, and what she initially mistook for strange nests now appeared as crude, menacing structures. Each tent seemed to write and pulse in the dim light, an unsettling reflection of her own anxiety.
Suppressing a shiver, Liriénka scaled the nearest tree with practiced silence, her movements a blend of urgency and caution. Perched high among the thick branches, she scanned her surroundings, her breath mingling with the damp mist that swirled around her. The silence was almost unbearable, broken only by the distant, sporadic crackle of the dying fire and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures. She forced herself to remain still, her eyes trained on the point of her arrival, willing the gateway to reopen and her family to emerge from Léit-Nalamn.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly. A chill began creeping into her bones, not just from the cold mountain air but from something deeper, something primal. She could feel the air inside her body turning foreign, rejecting the absence of water. It was suffocating. Her breaths became shorter, more urgent, each one a reminder that she wasn’t built to survive long on land. She needed water. Soon.
Her gaze darted across the clearing. The lake's surface glistened in the faint light, a tantalizing promise of relief. Yet, between her and that salvation lay a labyrinth of tents, their dark silhouettes bristling with unseen dangers. Each rustle of the fabric was like a whisper of hidden threats, and every shadow seemed to shift and breathe with an uncanny life of its own.
Liriénka dropped from her perch, landing softly on the grass. She moved with the stealth of a predator, her steps barely a whisper against the earth. As she navigated through the maze of tents, her heart pounded in her ears, the oppressive silence broken only by her ragged breath and the occasional distant groan from the camp.
The tents were closer now, their shapes looming over her like dark specters. Liriénka’s senses were on high alert, every rustle of the tent fabric sending her into a tense, defensive stance. She kept her movements slow and deliberate, each step a calculated risk.
Finally, the edge of the lake came into view. The water’s surface was a welcome sight, shimmering with a soft, inviting glow. Without hesitation, she plunged her hands into the cool liquid. The sensation was immediate and exquisite—the water’s touch seemed to awaken every fiber of her being, washing away the dryness that had begun to consume her.
Liriénka drew a deep breath, the relief a brief but powerful respite. Yet, even as her strength returned, she knew better than to let her guard down. The danger was still present, and the risks of returning to her hiding spot remained. Unwilling to be away from water, she submerged into the lake, her eyes fixed on the horizon, every fiber of her being attuned to the possibility of the gateway’s return. The stillness around her was a palpable tension, the moment stretching taut like a drawn bowstring, ready to snap at any sign of the unknown.
Liriénka submerged herself in the depths of Situ Cukul, where the sun's relentless blaze began its slow ascent, casting a harsh, unforgiving light over the alien landscape. Unlike the dim, diffuse light of Léit-Nalamn, this sun was a blistering orb, scorching and unyielding. For nearly a day, she remained hidden beneath the water lilies that floated on the lake’s surface, a meager refuge from the oppressive heat.
Her head emerged cautiously, the only part of her visible as she scanned the horizon. The once familiar hope of seeing the dimensional gateway reappear faded with each passing hour. Each time she dared to surface, her gaze was met with nothing but the empty expanse of the lake, the gateway nowhere to be seen. The endless waiting gnawed at her, the tension of her vigil heightened by the intense sun, and the grim realization that her family might never come for her.