Dawn always arrived leisurely at the swamp, as if the sun were too tired to rise. The light filtered in sickly strands through the reeds, dyeing the water a murky, stagnant green. The air hung heavy, impregnated with the smell of aged wood, decaying flowers, and the sweet scent of a childhood ending.
Na'Risha walked behind her grandmother, bare feet splashing on the living walkways—logs that breathed and creaked like sleeping animals. Every step a distinct sound: a wooden whistle, a drip, a sigh. Everything seemed to have a soul in that place. Even so, for Na'Risha… the Water… felt dull.
The Matriarch moved slowly, wrapped in a cloak made of dried scales that reflected the light like broken mirrors. Her voice, when she spoke, dragged centuries with it.
[Remember, child. The river listens; it does not judge.]
Na'Risha nodded solemnly, though she didn't fully understand. Grandmother's words were like fish: they slipped away if she tried to catch them. She only knew that today was special. "The Song of the River"—a ceremony where the tribe's infants were formally presented to the river.
They crossed the last walkway until they reached the heart of the swamp: a circle of darker water, so still it reflected the sky like a sacred mirror. Around it, the elders waited in silence, eyes closed, holding smooth stones in their hands. The wind was absent, as if the world were holding its breath.
The Matriarch raised her staff—a whitish branch covered in coral—and began to sing.
It wasn't a human song. They were liquid sounds, clicks, and low-frequency vibrations that made the sternum tremble. They seemed to form visible ripples on the static water. Na'Risha tried to follow her, imitating each note clumsily. Her voice was high, childish, clean, a drop of rain in a dry ocean.
For a moment, she thought she saw something: the faint shimmer of bubbles rising from the depths, the reflection of the sky stirring with life. Her heart leapt. The river had heard her.
But it was only that: a reflection. The shimmer faded. The water went still again, dead, echoless.
The Matriarch fell silent, her face hardened by a sadness she didn't speak aloud. The elders lowered the stones. One by one, they left in silence.
Na'Risha stayed behind, watching the inert mirror of the water. It seemed to her that the swamp looked at her with sadness. As if it wanted to speak to her, but didn't have the strength.
[Grandmother… why doesn't the river sing anymore?]
The Matriarch didn't answer immediately. She approached the shore and sank her hands into the warm mud, letting the bubbles escape through her fingers. When she spoke, she did so in a whisper that wasn't directed only at the child.
[… He wants to, my little one… He desires it more than anyone… but even the most glorious echo… will eventually be lost to oblivion…]
Silence covered everything again. Only the distant murmur of insects and the rhythmic tapping of drops falling from the leaves remained.
Na'Risha closed her eyes. She imagined the water was still listening, albeit in silence. She imagined that someday she could hear its voice, once more.
...…
[Nothing again…]
Na'Risha sighed with regret as she dropped the fishing net.
Although she had no hope from the start, the disappointment was still visible on her delicate face.
Time had passed with its characteristic indifference, and that day Na'Risha completed 18 solar cycles.
But the young woman felt no joy whatsoever.
[We can't go on like this…]
She murmured, looking regretfully at her surroundings.
The air, once thick and fresh, now smelled of dust, sulfur, and dried scales. The lake water had receded alarmingly; what was once a majestic river was now mostly disconnected puddles full of pestilent mud. The floating village had run aground; the living wood that once grew from the roots now creaked with a dry groan, brittle like bone exposed to the sun.
The river hadn't sung for years. Its voice, just an echo in the memories of the elders, slowly sounding more like fantasy than reality.
They spoke of when it answered prayers, of currents that vibrated with every offering and returned luminous bubbles like spirit laughter.
But they also recounted with regret how its voice slowly faded over the centuries.
And now, there was only silence, a dense silence that stuck to the gills.
Na'Risha grew up with that silence, learning to fear it more than the river's predators.
[It's time to go back] she commented while shaking her head, the net already gathered on her back.
........
Na'Risha walked through her village with a dejection she didn't dare show on the surface.
Every new look directed at her carried a heavy hope that was quickly replaced by disappointment. Followed by an understanding nod and a respectful bow.
Every time this happened, Na'Risha felt as if her heart were pierced by a dagger, but she said nothing.
She just kept walking normally, every encounter a warm and cordial greeting.
[Ahhh…] Na'Risha finally let out a tired sigh inside her parched hut.
[I guess the fishing was bad] from inside, the raspy voice of an old woman was heard.
[Yes…] answered Na'Risha entering the hut, where she found the clan matriarch meditating in the living room.
[Grandmother, I…] Na'Risha tried to speak as she sat on the floor in front of the matriarch, but was stopped with a slight movement of her hand.
[We already talked about this.] said the old woman, her voice seeming to contain the weight of centuries.
But Na'Risha didn't give up.
[Grandmother… We are starving…] she said, her voice a mix of regret and plea.
For a long time, the room remained in silence, but finally, the old woman spoke.
[Child…] she began, in her tired voice the doubt of someone unsure about confessing a heavy truth. [It doesn't matter where we go, the result is the same… Because this world…]
CRACK-BOOOOM!
The old woman's words were cut in half by a thunderous roar that seemed to hammer the firmament.
Grandmother and granddaughter shuddered, but didn't scream; they didn't dare.
Instead, as if drawn by something, they ran out of the hut.
[What is it…] murmured Na'Risha, shaken by the scene.
And she wasn't the only one; everyone in her village watched terrified.
The water remaining in the dying river shuddered as if a battle between armies were being waged in its depths.
In the distance—in the direction where the river opened toward the forbidden wetlands—a red flash illuminated the horizon as if the sky itself were bleeding.
And then they felt it: a vibration that didn't come from the swamp, but from the world itself.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
The river stirred more violently; the few living beings still hiding in its waters surfaced, their lives drained.
The animals cowered, terrified to make a single noise, and even the trees seemed to hold their breath.
Men, women, children, and elders alike were terrified, their legs giving way under the immense pressure and the bloodthirsty desire that now dominated every inch of the village.
But amidst this despair, there was someone who didn't feel that primal fear.
Na'Risha didn't fall to her knees; instead, she looked at the reddish horizon without blinking.
She didn't know what was happening, didn't know what creatures could be facing each other to cause such a commotion.
But every impact that seemed to shake the sky and earth, far from filling her with terror, stirred her heart with a welcoming desire she had never felt.
Thump-thump.
She felt heat in her lower belly. Her gums itched violently, and she felt her fangs pushing against the flesh, wanting to come out, wanting to bite.
With every crash, she could feel the malice, could feel the terror and unbridled violence. But above all, she could feel the desire, the fun, and the longing.
It was so contradictory it felt unreal, but something inside her seemed to call her, as if screaming at her, inciting her to join the pleasure.
Unconsciously she took a step forward, without realizing, a vicious smile had formed on her lips and a crimson glow began to emerge in her black pupils.
[That is enough, little one.] The old woman's voice resonated in Na'Risha's mind as she gently placed her fingers on the girl's face, covering her eyes.
[Grand… mother…] Na'Risha's voice sounded clumsy, as if she had just woken up from a dream, while the old woman sang softly and a light blue light enveloped Na'Risha, fighting against the red emanating from her skin.
For a long time, Na'Risha had no answer, but she didn't care nor resist; instead, she concentrated her own mana to resonate with her grandmother's, calming her heart.
[Grandmother… What is happening? …] she finally asked, her heart still agitated, but resistant to the call that refused to cease.
[Your lineage, dear… The call of the alphas…] answered the old woman, with a resolute but complicated voice.
[… Al… pha?]
[There will be time to explain… but for now, remember… You must resist it. An Alpha who blindly succumbs to the call ends up drowning everything they love.]
Her grandmother's words shook Na'Risha, but she still nodded resolutely.
Because deep in her heart… She knew she was right.
And then.
""""GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA""""
A thunderous roar that seemed capable of consuming the world echoed in every corner of the swamp.
[[[[[[AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH]]]]]
The entire clan screamed in pain, drowned by the immense pressure as countless columns of crimson energy rose to the sky.
[Grand… mo… ther… ha… haha… hahahAHAHAHAHAHAHA] Na'Risha's voice became broken, her eyes already threatening to be consumed by the crimson, while indiscreet laughter escaped between gasps.
[Resist… please…] the matriarch continued controlling her mana, desperately trying to help her granddaughter.
And just when all seemed lost.
BOOM
The world was dyed gold…
........