The boat floated in the middle of the river.
The fog had grown so thick that sky and water were no longer separate things. Everything blended into a pale, endless white. The moon was only a faint blur now, trembling behind the mist.
The boatman rowed slowly, a strange uneasiness creeping into his chest.
Tonight felt different. Heavy. Unnatural.
After a while, he spoke without turning around.
"How much farther do you want to go?"
No answer.
He cleared his throat and called again,
"Son? Daughter?"
Silence.
A cold ripple ran down his spine.
He turned fully this time—
And his hands froze on the oar.
The boat was empty.
Just moments ago, the young couple had been sitting side by side. Quiet. Peaceful.
Now—
No one.
The boat rocked gently on the water.
The fog pressed in from all sides.
The boatman's breath quickened. His hands began to tremble as he looked around frantically.
Had they fallen into the river?
He leaned over the edge—
No splash.
No ripples.
No cry for help.
The water was still. Unbroken.
Only the soft rhythm of the oar knocking lightly against the boat.
A sudden cold wind brushed past him, sharp enough to sting his skin.
Under his breath, barely audible, he whispered,
"Were they… even human?"
For a fleeting second, he thought he heard it—
A faint echo of laughter drifting across the fog.
Or perhaps…
It was only his imagination.