The sun was at its zenith, turning the forest clearing into an ideal escape from the daily routine of the orphanage. The air, filled with the scent of pine needles and damp earth, was thick and sweet. For Kaedan, Ulvia, Gil, and Dur, these rare hours of freedom away from the walls of the "Old Pine" were priceless.
Today they were drawn to the Swift Creek—a narrow but noisy stream running over a rocky bed deep in the Whispering Trunk Forest. Its cheerful babbling promised coolness and adventure.
"Last one to that boulder is a rotten stump!" Ulvia yelled, kicking off her worn shoes and, without hesitation, jumping onto the nearest slippery stone. Her laughter mingled with the sound of the water as she, balancing with the grace of a young cat, leaped to the next boulder, her reddish hair flying in the wind.
Kaedan, always ready for a challenge, immediately rushed after her. His movements were more powerful, less graceful, but incredibly confident. He didn't so much jump as step onto the stones, as if testing their strength, and they obediently bore his weight. Soon he and Ulvia were engaged in a noisy competition in the middle of the stream, their reflections shattering in the sparkling spray.
Gil watched them from the bank, her intelligent, attentive gaze sliding not over her friends, but over the water itself. She took off her shoes and carefully entered a shallow area where the water barely reached her ankles. Her face showed not fear, but scientific interest. She slowly stepped over the smooth, cold pebbles, studying how the current flowed around her feet, how tiny crustaceans hurried to hide under the upturned stones she gently lifted.
"Interesting," she murmured, more to herself than the others, "if we trace the direction of the current to the end, where would it lead us? South, to the Great Forest? Or maybe it flows into that very River you can't cross?"
Dur sat in the shade of an old alder, a few steps from the water's edge. He had his knees drawn up and wrapped his arms around them, trying to look as if he were simply enjoying the peace. But his posture was too tense for relaxation. He watched Kaedan and Ulvia's cheerful antics, Gil's focused explorations, and felt a little ashamed of his immobility. When Ulvia slipped and plopped into the water with a loud splash, emerging laughing with wet hair plastered to her face, Dur involuntarily recoiled, as if the spray had reached him too. Cold water, even in such small quantities, caused him an unpleasant, paralyzing discomfort, a slight tremor in his fingertips that he tried hard to hide.
Kaedan, noticing his detachment, stopped fooling around. His kind, open face showed understanding. He jumped out onto the bank, wiping the water from himself, and walked over to Dur.
"Bored all alone here?" he asked, squatting down beside him. "The creek is great, you should try it!"
Dur cast his eyes down, trying not to look at the glistening water behind Kaedan.
"Don't want to get my clothes wet," he muttered a practiced excuse. "It's my only set."
It was true, but not the whole truth. Kaedan understood. He saw how Dur tensed up even over small things like morning washing. He didn't insist, didn't tease like others might have. Instead, his gaze fell upon a long, sturdy branch lying nearby. An idea struck him.
"Hey, let's measure how deep it is!" Kaedan exclaimed, picking up the stick. "What if there's no bottom in the middle? We gotta check!"
He handed the makeshift pole to Dur. Dur hesitated, looking at Kaedan's serious face, then at the stick, then at the water. Ulvia and Gil, now interested, had stopped their activities and were watching hopefully.
"Go on, Dur!" Ulvia encouraged him. "Be our chief depth explorer!"
Gil silently nodded, her gaze saying, "It's safe. It's just a measurement."
Their silent support worked. Dur slowly got up and, overcoming a light but persistent anxiety, took the stick. He took a few uncertain steps to the very edge of the water, feeling his pulse quicken. He took a deep breath and, trying not to look at the water flowing at his feet, plunged the end of the stick into the very center of the stream, where the current was fastest.
The stick easily hit the bottom, not even sinking halfway.
"Shallow," Dur said quietly but clearly, and in his voice was a note of relief, noticeable even to himself. "Very shallow."
He did this several more times in different places, and each time the result was the same—a solid, rocky bottom just below. This simple, physical confirmation of safety became a small but very important victory for him. The corners of his lips twitched into the semblance of a smile as he turned to his friends.
"No abyss," he said more loudly.
Kaedan clapped him on the shoulder, grinning broadly. Ulvia let out a triumphant whoop. Gil nodded in satisfaction.
But when Dur put the stick down and his gaze involuntarily drifted downstream, to where the creek turned and merged with a wider, darker flow, his eyes became serious again. There, where the water was deeper and slower, its surface seemed almost black, reflecting the crowns of the tall trees. A slight shiver ran down his spine. He had won a battle with the creek, but the war with water, with that very same great, dark water from his dreams, was still ahead. He quietly returned to the shelter of the alder, but now in his heart, next to the old fear, a tiny spark of hope glimmered, kindled by a simple stick and the loyalty of friends.