Prologue A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, their voices mingling in a soft, shifting murmur. Those who know how to listen will always understand the language of the forest. To the passing traveler, it whispers an eternal lore—a tale of love and friendship, and a poignant reminder of how vital it is to cherish every fleeting moment, for the time allotted for happiness is never infinite. One should never be afraid to embrace joy, or to bring it into the lives of others. The Tale "So, where on earth is he lounging about?" the girl asked for the umpteenth time, her tail striking the water's surface in an anxious splash as she looked at her companion. "What makes you so certain he'll show up at all?" the other replied, blinking her wide, doe-like eyes in mild amusement. She was a cervaur: a centaur with the elegant, slender body of a noble deer. "Pfft." The mermaid slammed her tail against the water once more. "As if you wouldn't be absolutely thrilled to see him!" Her friend immediately blushed a deep crimson, hastily lifting her teacup to hide her face from the water-maiden's knowing smirk, inhaling the rich, fragrant steam as she took a slow sip of the dark brew. What a pair of stubborn fawns! the mermaid thought, not for the first time. They were clearly head over heels for one another, yet they kept dancing around it, acting as if they had all the time in the world. But happiness doesn't take kindly to being ignored or brushed aside. It thrives on attention and tenderness; it wants to be treasured, and they just didn't seem to get it! "And what about you? When are you planning to head back down to the sunken city?" the cervaur asked, neatly turning the tables. "Oh, I'm a free spirit, I don't daydream about white weddings like you do," the mermaid chuckled. She picked up her spoon, deftly broke off a small piece of cake, and locked eyes with her friend again. "But you certainly do, Nysa." A grin stretched from ear to ear across her face. "‘Oh, Liasa, isn't he just the sweetest thing?’ ‘I wonder what kind of father he'd make.’ ‘Liasa! You'll never guess what! Digor asked me for a stroll in the woods!’" "Stop it!" Nysa cried out, turning red right to the roots of her hair. "Oh, alright," the mermaid drawled playfully. "Fair enough." In the far distance, the human city hummed with a restless, chaotic din, but the mermaid did her best to look away. Humans loved their noise, but their frantic lives meant nothing to the children of the forest. Basking in the warmth of the beautiful, balmy day, she silently hoped she would soon be hearing wedding bells for her dearest friend. And so, trading jests and lighthearted banter, the two sat together until dusk, thoroughly enjoying their picnic. When the time came for their next gathering, Nysa arrived practically walking on air, her face radiant with pure joy—Digor had proposed. She chattered away without a single pause, while the mermaid listened with a warm smile, genuinely thrilled for her happiness. The wedding took place a mere fortnight later. Out of thoughtfulness for the water-maiden, they held the ceremony right by the river's edge so she wouldn't miss a single moment. It was a bustling, joyful affair; the guests were overjoyed for the newlyweds, boisterously wishing them a houseful of children, which made Nysa blush and look down in bashful confusion. Digor simply laughed, pulling his bride into a protective embrace and promising they would do their absolute best. In due time, summer gave way to a stunning, vibrantly painted autumn. Yet, the human city continued to emit strange, discordant noises and a heavy, unsettling clamor. Unable to bear the suspense any longer, the mermaid decided to swim closer to investigate. To her absolute horror, the woodland that once bordered the stone walls had completely vanished, replaced by barren flatlands sown with tall, coarse grain. The sacred groves of the dryads had been utterly decimated. As she ventured further upstream, a sudden wave of nausea washed over her; the water tasted foul, choked with filth and stripped of all life. Hearing voices nearby, she quickly ducked behind a large boulder and listened intently. "The Governor says we're pushing deeper into the forest next." "But what about the forest folk?" the other man asked, clearly taken aback. "We have a treaty with them. We swore an oath not to trespass on their lands." "Who knows?" the first shrugged indifferently. "We're just cogs in the machine. Orders are orders." "Hmm," the second muttered, but a heartbeat later, his eyes widened in surprise. "I suppose you're right. Go on back to the city, I'll catch up." "You sure?" his companion asked, glancing back. "Yeah. I'll be right behind you." Once the first man had departed, the remaining human kept his gaze fixed precisely toward the mermaid's hiding spot, before beginning a cautious approach. "Hello there," he spoke softly, leaning over the water. "Can you understand me?" The mermaid gave a cautious nod. "What are you doing so close to the walls? If they catch you, they'll lock you up or worse." "Why did you destroy the sacred groves?" the mermaid asked, tilting her head to the side. "Sacred?" he repeated, genuinely bewildered. "Yes. They were home to the dryads. Those woods were alive; they nourished the very earth, granting it the vitality to yield wild berries, mushrooms, and nuts year after year." "I had no idea," the human murmured, lowering himself to the ground to sit directly across from her. "Your city is terribly loud." "Yeah, it can be a bit much," he smiled, and she couldn't help but notice how remarkably handsome he was. Mustering her courage, she dragged herself slightly onto the grassy bank, bringing her face close to his to study his features. It was the first time she had ever looked upon a human from such an intimate distance. "You look quite a bit like me," the mermaid finally declared. "Well, not entirely." He blushed, looking exactly like Nysa in her fits of embarrassment. "Not entirely?" She blinked in confusion. "How so?" "I don't have a tail, for starters," he chuckled. "And I'm a man." The words had barely left his lips before the mermaid leaned in even closer, taking a soft breath to catch his scent. "You have a very peculiar, interesting fragrance," she whispered, remaining hovering just inches away, while he froze, scarcely daring to breathe. As it turned out, this man was a wizard's apprentice, having only recently arrived in the city. Before long, the mermaid found herself swimming out to the city limits more and more frequently, meeting him by that very same boulder. Meanwhile, Nysa and her husband remained close companions, continuing to share idyllic picnics along the riverbank. Hardly had winter broken before the very first signs of the spring thaw brought her human friend rushing back to the shore. "Liasa," he hissed in a panicked whisper, "you and your kin need to flee. You must leave this place at once." "Whatever for?" the mermaid asked, startled, as his fingers gently brushed against her cheek. "My people are planning an all-out invasion," he explained, his voice thick with anguish and despair. "I cannot bear the thought of anything happening to you." The moment the words left his mouth, he leaned down and kissed her. Nysa had always insisted it was a wonderful sensation, but the mermaid had remained skeptical—until now, as a wave of sweet, dizzying warmth rushed through her. "I've fallen in love with you, Liasa," he murmured, pulling her into a tight embrace. "And I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe." "This is my home, Rodrick," she replied, pressing her face against his chest. "And my friend cannot simply pack up her family and leave. For her people, such a journey is nigh impossible. We are bound to our lands by ancient magic." "Then what can we possibly do?" he asked, gently smoothing her hair. "They will treat your people exactly as they treated the dryads—they will simply wipe you out." "But why? There is a sacred pact between our realms," the mermaid pleaded, looking up into his eyes. "Why do they want to seize our lands now?" "Human avarice knows no bounds," he said bitterly, his face darkening. "Anyone who speaks out against the expansion is branded a traitor to the race and executed on the spot. They envy your people; they believe you are hoarding untold riches and living in absolute luxury." "Riches?" she echoed in disbelief, recalling the human women she had seen near the city walls and later asked Rodrick about. "We don't even wear clothes like your women do. Everything we possess is a gift freely given by the forest and the earth." "I know, my love," he whispered, tracing a tender line along her cheek. "My master and I tried to talk sense into the Governor, but the man has completely lost his wits." "What if we summon the Witness?" she suggested suddenly. "The Witness? Who is that?" "The most powerful entity of our realm. It was the Witness who sealed the original treaty with your first ruler." "Do you know where to find this being?" "I don't, but Digor does." When Nysa and her husband answered the urgent summons, Liasa introduced them to Rodrick, who recounted his grim warning. Digor's expression hardened; being an elder of his tribe, he knew the true nature of humans all too well. He had constantly chided the mermaid for keeping company with a human mage, warning that no good would ever come of it. Yet now, Rodrick was their only hope. Nysa stayed behind with the mermaid, as she was heavily pregnant and expecting her long-awaited little one at any moment. Rodrick stole one last, lingering kiss from his beloved, and she threw her arms around his neck, utterly loath to let him go. But he gave his word that he would return, and the two men disappeared into the thicket, leaving the women alone. With each passing day, the forest dwellers watched the city with growing dread; billowing columns of acrid smoke began to choke the sky, and the river water grew foul, stinging the skin with an unnatural, painful venom. Two months later, the distant echo of frantic shouting and the harsh clatter of clashing steel drifted from the direction of the city. Birds and beasts fled through the brush in sheer terror, and the horizon flared with a vivid, bloody crimson as the scent of burning timber filled the air. Nysa was due to give birth any day, making a swift escape out of the question. The mermaid did everything in her power to keep her spirits up, offering reassurances and promising that Rodrick and Digor would prevail and return to them safely. "You've truly lost your heart to this human, haven't you?" the cervaur asked with a weak smile, causing the mermaid to blush furiously. "Yes. Yes, I have." "It will be quite something to see what kind of family you two make," Nysa chuckled softly, but her laughter was abruptly cut short by a sharp cry of agony as she collapsed onto her front knees. "Nysa! Dearest, hold on, it's going to be alright!" the mermaid panicked, hovering frantically around her. "I'm right here, I'll help you. Just breathe. You've waited so long for this little one." Liasa stared at her suffering friend, her mind racing for a solution. She couldn't venture far from the water, and stranded on the riverbank, her deep magic was entirely out of reach. Dragging a laboring cervaur into the deep, rushing river was far too dangerous; she had no earthly idea how the cold currents might affect a newborn land creature. Suddenly, old legends flashed through her mind—tales of a time when the water folk could transform their tails into legs, walking upon the dry earth just like humans. When Nysa could no longer stand and rolled onto her side with a groan, Liasa cast all fear aside. She threw herself onto the bank, scrambling completely onto the dry earth until not even her tail-fin touched the protective water. "Liasa," her friend gasped through a brutal wave of contractions, "get back into the river... you'll suffocate." "Don't talk nonsense! I'm tougher than I look; I won't die that easily!" As her friend cried out, the mermaid kept up a steady stream of encouragement, urging her to push and bring the new life into the world. Hours bled into one another before the infant was finally delivered safely into her waiting arms. By then, thick smoke had blanketed the clearing, and the shouts of approaching soldiers sounded terrifyingly close. The mermaid realized her vision was beginning to blur; in her frantic efforts to aid her friend, she had completely lost track of how long she had been away from the water. Nysa lay utterly spent. Liasa dragged herself closer, cradling the newborn, while Nysa wept with exhaustion. The mermaid gently placed the infant into his mother's embrace and held them both close, whispering fierce comforts, telling her to keep faith in Rodrick and Digor. Just as consciousness was slipping away from her, Liasa caught sight of a massive silhouette charting the sky above. It streaked across the heavens with such breathtaking speed that she couldn't make out its form, followed by an earth-shattering roar that made the ground beneath them tremble. Then, an incredible weightlessness washed over her, as if she were soaring through the clouds like a bird, or like that mysterious shadow. A second later, the healing, life-giving touch of water hit her skin, jolting her back to reality. Blinking away the droplets, she realized she was being cradled tightly in someone's arms. She looked up into the anxious, fiercely tender face of her wizard. Liasa weakly stroked his cheek, and he immediately pulled her into a passionate, hungry kiss, which she returned with every ounce of her remaining strength. Once the frantic commotion surrounding Nysa, the baby, and the water-maid had finally settled, and the forest fires were brought under control, Rodrick and Digor shared their harrowing tale. It had been a desperate struggle, but they had managed to unearth the ancient altar, crack the cypher, and unravel the binding incantation. The moment the spell was cast, the Witness appeared—or rather, one of its descendants. It was a dragon. It had long been believed that their kind had vanished from the realm forever, but they answered the ancient call nonetheless. Now, the great beast and its kin were waging war against the human forces, meting out terrible retribution for betraying the old vows. Epilogue Three years later The mermaid was once again lounging contentedly in the shallows near the riverbank, with Nysa resting on the lush grass nearby, an array of platters and sweet treats arranged between them. Their gazes were fixed a short distance away, and bright smiles never left their lips as they watched their families frolicking in the meadow, playing a lively game of tag. Following the birth of their son, Digor and Nysa had been blessed with a daughter; the children were now three and two years old. At this very moment, they were tearing across the grass after their father, squealing with laughter as they tried to catch him. Closer to the tree line stood another group, completely absorbed in inspecting a cluster of wild blooms and the butterflies hovering over them. Two toddlers with hair as black as midnight and delicate webbed skin between their tiny fingers were examining the flowers, watched over by their father—the human mage. With the return of the Witness, magic had begun to surge back into the world, restoring what had long been thought lost. The water folk could now venture onto dry land, their tails transforming into legs at will. Because of this, the happiness shared by the mermaid and Rodrick knew no bounds. Their own little ones were also two years old, and they were absolute terrors of mischief. Yet, looking at them, the mermaid knew with absolute certainty that these three individuals were her entire world, her greatest joy and treasure. Truly, one should never put life on hold for a later date; every single moment must be cherished. For happiness loves nothing more than to be nurtured and tended to, and in return, it rewards us tenfold. The wind rustled through the emerald canopies once more, dancing merrily among the ancient trunks, humming the melody of the woodland, and whispering its timeless reminder to live in the absolute present. And so, it would weave their story into the eternal lore of friendship, love, and the profound miracles they can forge when they reside within steadfast hearts.