Chapter 112: The Kalamma River II
The boat continued on its path, moving straight downstream. The oars proved useless to the pair, so Ceremus sat back and took in the sights before them.
The river lived up to its name; it was tranquil and still, with waters as black as ink, yet clear enough to see one's reflection. Atilla kept a watchful eye on the river as they went along, carefully observing their surroundings.
It was clear the boy was still on edge, so Ceremus let him be, finding it a waste of breath to tell him to calm down. Everything had been quiet thus far, until the young knight caught a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye.
A flicker of gold.
Atilla's breath hitched.
It was only for a moment, but he saw it. A shimmer, small and distant, like a reflection just beyond reach. The color of his sister's hair in the summer sun. A rare and distinct hue, different from the one's the people in the region he grew up had.
He remembered how his sister had always been teased for her hair color when she was younger, but Atilla had always found it mesmerizing. Over the years, it had only grown lighter and brighter, suiting her warmer features perfectly as she matured.
He couldn't help shaking his head, wondering if what he had just seen was real. Was the river merely toying with him after all? Conjuring his grief from its depths?
He didn't know. But he couldn't look away.
His nails dug into the wooden edge of the boat as he peered into the water, searching.
As the boat continued to drift forward, an eerie silence fell over the river. The air already had an unnatural stillness to it, but Ceremus began to notice something was amiss. It was as if something was watching them, but he couldn't pinpoint what, nor where the feeling was coming from.