After leaving the River of Reflections, Elarien walked slowly. The trees swayed as if whispering to one another, and the silver wolf padded quietly beside her. The light in the forest had changed. It felt softer now, as though the forest was breathing with her.
Ahead, the river narrowed into a winding stream.
The path followed the water's edge, and Elarien stayed close to it, listening to the gentle trickle of its song.
She paused when she saw something ahead.
A wide stone sat beside the stream, and resting upon it was a silver bowl filled with water. The bowl shimmered with the same light as the river. Around it were small carvings—spirals, stars, and tiny wolves chasing each other in circles.
Elarien stepped closer.
The silver wolf stayed behind, watching but not moving.
This is for you alone now, he said.
She touched the edge of the bowl. It was smooth and cool. She looked down into the water inside it.
At first, she saw nothing but her reflection.
Then the water stirred.
It swirled slowly, as if something deep inside had begun to move.
And then, a voice rose from the bowl.
It was not loud, but it was clear. It sounded like her own voice—only older, steadier, filled with quiet strength.
"Why did you wait so long?" the voice asked.
Elarien blinked.
"Because I was afraid," she answered softly.
"What were you afraid of?" the voice asked again.
She looked at her hands, at the faint glow in her fingers.
"I thought no one would hear me. I thought my words were too small to matter."
The water shimmered again.
"But they heard you," said the voice.
"Yes," she whispered. "And I listened too."
The bowl's water began to rise, floating into the air like tiny silver droplets.
Each drop held a memory—her first word, her first song, her first time choosing kindness over fear. They floated around her like stars.
One by one, the drops touched her skin.
And then they melted into light.
Elarien felt something change inside her.
A warmth in her throat. A calm in her chest.
The voice returned, softer now.
"Your voice is not just for speaking. It is for healing. It is for guiding."
Elarien closed her eyes.
"I understand."
The silver bowl slowly emptied, and the light faded.
But she did not feel sad.
She felt full.
When she turned, the silver wolf bowed his head to her.
You heard the voice beneath the water. And it heard you.
Elarien looked at the path ahead. It curved back toward the forest, where the Watchers waited.
She took one last look at the stream, then began to walk.
The forest did not seem so big now.
Because she knew that her voice, though once quiet, was part of something much greater.
And it would never be lost again.