The boat sliced through the water, silent except for the soft creak of wood and the occasional splash as the oars cut through the fog. The river was dark, oppressive, and the weight of what had been broken hung heavy between us.


    Therran sat across from me, his hands trembling, his eyes fixed on the black water. Good. Fear kept you sharp. Me? I didn’t feel fear anymore—just the weight of the mess I couldn’t outrun.


    "Aric saved you," I said, my voice low. "But you’re here now. Why?"


    Therran didn’t look up. His grip tightened on the boat’s edge, knuckles pale.


    "Because I ran. He told me to wait... but I didn’t. The mist came, and I just ran."


    I leaned back, the words slicing through the silence.


    "You survived. That’s what matters."


    His gaze stayed locked on the water, a flicker of doubt crossing his face.


    "But what if I wasn’t supposed to?"


    I didn’t answer. The river didn’t care about fairness—only balance. And when that balance broke, the cost was steep.


    "You said the mist found you," I pressed, leaning forward. "What happened after?"


    He swallowed hard, voice dropping to a whisper.


    "The monsters. They—they wanted something. My story, maybe. They kept coming for it."


    I gripped the oar, fingers raw against the wood. I knew exactly what he meant. The river always remembered what was broken—what hadn’t been finished.


    "They want it because it’s not finished," I muttered. "An incomplete story draws them. The ones that feed on what’s broken."


    Therran’s confusion was obvious. He wasn’t ready for this kind of truth. Not yet.


    "Why didn’t they take it?" he asked.


    "Because someone stopped them." My voice turned rough. "Someone’s been keeping them at bay. But it’s tearing him apart."


    Therran blinked, his eyes searching mine.


    "Is that why you’re here? To save him?"


    The question hit harder than I expected. I couldn’t lie. Not now.


    "I don’t know if I can save him," I admitted. "But I owe him the chance to save himself."


    Therran studied me, a strange knowing in his eyes.


    "You’re like him, aren’t you? Breaking the rules too?"


    The river seemed to stop, holding its breath, waiting for me to admit it. The thing I’d been running from. He saw it—the truth I couldn’t deny.


    The mist thickened, curling like smoke. The temperature dropped. The creatures were near.


    "They’re coming," Therran whispered, his voice shaking. "I can feel it."


    I nodded, the boat tilting beneath us as the current began to change. The creatures were closing in.


    They emerged from the mist like tendrils of shadow, their eyes gleaming with malice. The sound they made was a chorus of whispers, wrapped in agony, all of them calling my name.


    “Kaelith,” they hissed. “Kaelith.”


    I didn’t flinch. Not this time. The river had called me before, tried to break me, but I wouldn’t let it. Not now.


    "You don’t belong here," I said, my voice steady.


    The largest of them slithered forward, its form shifting like smoke. Its empty eyes locked onto mine. Its voice crawled into my mind, cold as death itself.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "Neither do you," it hissed. "But here you are."


    I met its gaze, unblinking.


    "Maybe not. But I’m not leaving until I get what I came for."


    The creature let out a chilling laugh, the sound like glass scraping on stone.


    "The storyteller? Do you think he’ll thank you for this? Do you think he even wants to be saved?"


    I didn’t answer. The river didn’t care about thanks or what Aric wanted. It cared about broken rules. Aric’s unfinished story had drawn them here, and me? I’d cheated death, tethering chaos to myself.


    The creature turned its empty eyes toward Therran.


    "And what of him? Will you sacrifice the boy for your precious friend?"


    Therran recoiled, terror flickering across his face. I stepped in front of him, the river’s weight pressing down on my chest. I couldn’t protect him if he froze like this.


    "Stay down!" I barked, my voice hard. I didn’t have time for hesitation. Not now.


    The creature tilted its head, studying me.


    "Why now, Kaelith?" it sneered. "After all these years, you’re finally fighting back? You’ve always run before. But you can’t outrun this. Not anymore."


    It was right. I’d spent so long running from the past, from mistakes I couldn’t undo. But Aric... he wasn’t the only one they were after. They were here for me too.


    "Because this time," I said, my voice scraping out of me, "I’m not running."


    The creature lunged, twisting in the mist. I swung the oar with everything I had. The wood cracked against its shadowed body, but it barely reacted. It was like hitting smoke. The blow didn’t stop it—it rippled around the strike and flowed back into its shape.


    The rowboat shuddered violently under the impact, the oar slipping through my hands as the creature’s form seemed to writhe with mocking ease. The boat swayed dangerously, tilting to one side, and I had to grab the edge to steady myself. The calm river was gone—now it was a maelstrom, tossing us in its grasp.


    The creature hissed, its voice thick with mockery.


    "You think you can stop us with an oar, Kaelith?"


    I swung again, aiming for its face. It vanished into the mist, reappearing behind me. The boat lurched as I twisted, caught off balance. Before I could react, the creature’s claws slashed at my back, sharp as glass. The boat rocked violently beneath me, and I barely managed to keep my feet.


    The damn thing was fast. But I had something it didn’t—experience.


    I swung the oar with a wide arc. This time, the creature staggered back, its misty form flickering, unsteady.


    The boat swayed again, too violently this time, and I had to brace myself, eyes darting to Therran, who was clinging to the side, looking like he was about to topple into the water himself.


    "Hold on!" I snapped at him.


    Another creature—a smaller one—darted toward Therran, its mouth wide, gaping. My heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, I threw myself in front of him, slamming into the creature. The force knocked me off balance, sending me tumbling into the water.


    Cold. Dark. The current pulled at me, a suffocating weight.


    The boat tilted, water sloshing over the sides as I hit the river’s depths. My hands clawed for purchase, but the current dragged me deeper. I couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. Everything went still—the dark weight of the water pressing in, suffocating.


    And then, through the murk, I saw him. Aric.


    His pale face barely broke the surface, eyes wide with something I couldn’t place—fear, regret, maybe something darker. His hand trembled as he reached for me, clinging to the last thread of hope.


    I grabbed his wrist, pulling him close. The pressure of the river squeezed my chest. The creatures screamed above us, their forms flickering in the water’s surface. But I didn’t think. Didn’t stop.


    I hauled him closer, tightening my grip. The river dragged at us, relentless. I couldn’t let go. Not now.


    Therran’s voice—clear, desperate—cut through the chaos.


    "Kaelith! I can help!"


    I didn’t have time to answer. My legs kicked, pushing toward the surface. Water rushed past me. The boat groaned under the weight, tipping dangerously. I reached up, grabbing the edge, pulling Aric up with every ounce of strength I had left.


    Therran swung the oar, the wood slamming into the nearest creature. It reeled back, disappearing into the mist. The boat rocked hard but stayed afloat.


    "Get ready," I growled, my voice hoarse, as I pulled myself and Aric fully into the boat. The creatures were closing in, their hunger growing by the second. But I wasn’t about to let them win—not now, not when I had everything to lose.


    The boat swayed again, this time tipping at an angle that nearly threw me off-balance. I spun, keeping my feet as best as I could, and swung the oar with everything I had, slamming it into the air where I thought the creature would land. My guess was right—it shrieked as the oar’s blunt end collided with it, but the mist swallowed it up again, vanishing only to appear inches away from us once more.


    This fight wasn’t just about strength—it was about survival.


    Therran was breathing hard now, his fear had turned into something else—something savage, more desperate. With each swing of the oar, with every lurch of the boat, I could feel it. The creature was circling, testing for an opening.


    I wasn’t going to give it one.