Lumi couldn’t sleep that night. The vision of the woman in the water haunted her—the way her iridescent eyes shone like the moon, the way the lotus flowers pulsed with an otherworldly glow.
She lay in bed, her frog companion curled up beside her, its small body warm against her arm.
“What am I?” she whispered again.
The frog stirred, blinking its golden-speckled eyes. Then, for the first time, it spoke.
Not in croaks. Not in whispers of the wind. But in a voice that was both ancient and familiar, echoing inside her mind.
“You are the last daughter of the Water Folk.”
Lumi’s breath caught. “The Water Folk?”
Memories stirred, fragments of old stories told by the elders late at night. They spoke of a forgotten people who lived in hidden rivers and enchanted lakes, beings neither fully human nor fully spirit. They could command water, shape it like glass, walk upon it like earth. They were said to have disappeared long ago, swallowed by time and legend.
“But that’s just a myth,” Lumi murmured.
The frog’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. “Is it?”
Lumi sat up. “My mother—was she one of them?”
The frog nodded, and with that small motion, the room seemed to shift. The air thickened, and suddenly, the walls of her tiny home faded away.
She was no longer in her bed.
She was standing at the edge of a vast lake, its waters shimmering like liquid stardust. The air smelled of blooming lotus and summer rain. And in the center of the lake stood the woman from her vision, watching her with a gentle, knowing smile.
Lumi took a trembling step forward. “You’re real.”
“My child,” the woman spoke, her voice soft as rippling water. “You’ve finally heard the call.”
Lumi’s heart pounded. She had so many questions, but only one truly mattered.
“Why did you leave me?”
Sadness flickered in the woman’s silver-green eyes. “We did not abandon you, Lumi. We hid you.”
“From what?”
Before her mother could answer, the vision wavered. A shadow passed over the lake, and the air turned cold.
A deep, guttural sound—like a growl rising from the depths of the earth—echoed through the space.
Lumi gasped as dark shapes emerged from the water, swirling figures with hollow eyes. The frog beside her let out a sharp croak, and in an instant, the vision shattered.
Lumi jolted awake in her bed, her breath ragged. The frog sat beside her, tense, its golden eyes narrowed.
The door to her cottage creaked.
Someone—something—was outside.
Lumi’s pulse thundered in her ears. She could feel the air grow heavy, damp, unnatural. Shadows pooled beneath the door, curling like fingers of mist.
She understood now.
The Water Folk hadn’t just disappeared. They had been hunted. And now, those who had chased them into legend had come for her.
The frog leaped onto her shoulder, and Lumi felt a surge of energy rush through her veins. For the first time, she didn’t feel afraid.
She was the last of the Water Folk.
And she wasn’t going to run.
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