Chapter Eight: The Bridge
Rainy was alone in the house once more this morning. Her mother had gone to the gardens, her father was about his tasks for the day. Rainy worked through her chores—splitting firewood, filling water troughs, tidying up the kitchen. By mid-morning, she was ready to leave for the Temple.
The path beyond their small farm split at the wooden bridge: one way led to the Gardens, the other to the Temple. Rainy hesitated there, caught in the pull of both directions. She looked one way then the other, knowing that she stood now at a fork in the trail of her own life.
This bridge; it was the place where she divided ways with her family, with the village, with everyone. She had never grown close to the others her age. They weren’t interested in the things that she was. They clamored with each other in clumsy rituals of popularity, each trying to outdo the others in the game of life. She didn’t fit in and she knew it, they all knew it. She was very alone.
Taking a deep breath, Rainy stepped onto the bridge, and then hesitated. She didn’t know where the day would take her, but the nagging sense of something missing pushed her forward. Somewhere, she believed, the truth she sought was waiting.
Half way across the bridge, Rainy leaned on the railing; staring down at the river below as though it was a third path. The water twisted and rippled, carrying twigs and leaves along its surface as though they might offer some kind of answer. What was missing? She felt in her pocket, where had she left the book?
She had a sense of something grand and dreadful, yet demanding her attention. She didn’t really want to look, but she didn’t resist. After a long moment holding her breath, she sighed, shaking her head. There was nothing unusual down there—just her imagination running wild again.
The air hung heavy, damp and still. It was strange; the past few days had been dominated by fierce winds, and now there wasn’t even the faintest breeze. Rainy leaned further over the wooden railing, her chin resting in her hands, trying to push away the tension knotted in her muscles.
She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on her breath, but the weight of her thoughts pressed back in. Why am I even here? she wondered. She was drained from everything boiling around her.
The world around her was alive with sound: the quiet rustle of a squirrel darting through leaves, the cheerful gurgle of the creek below, and, faintly, the rhythmic crack of an axe against wood in the distance. Somewhere beyond the trees, children’s laughter echoed, mingling with the industrious hum of the village. Rainy tried to let the comforting chorus soothe her, but her gaze was drawn back to the river.
At first, she wasn’t sure what caught her attention—a shimmer, a flicker of light where there shouldn’t have been any. She leaned over the railing as far as she could, her brow furrowing in suspicion, her heart suddenly thudding harder in her chest. There, in the shadowy water, colors swirled and danced in a way that defied explanation.
Her pulse quickened. What is that? she murmured, but the question hung unanswered in the thick air. The glow didn’t move with the current. It stayed there, steady, as though waiting.
Rainy didn’t hesitate. She stepped off the bridge and made her way to the riverbank, pushing through the towering stalks of grass that tugged at her clothes. She was so focused on the light that she hardly noticed the mud pulling at her feet—until she slipped and plunged face-first into the river.
The shock of cold water stole her breath, but she quickly pushed herself upright, her clothes clinging to her as the current tugged at her waist. She didn’t care. Her eyes locked on the glowing spot, which seemed to grow brighter as she moved closer.
The colors were mesmerizing, swirling like liquid fire and ice, and as Rainy reached the spot, she saw the source: a single stone, lying quietly at the bottom of the river. Its light pulsed faintly, as if alive, sending ripples of color through the dark water.
Rainy hesitated. Her fingers trembled as she reached beneath the surface, half expecting the stone to vanish or dart away like a fish. But it didn’t. It was solid, warm even, as her hand closed around it.
Something about the stone felt familiar, and... important. She couldn’t explain it, but the thought of leaving it there seemed impossible. Cradling it tightly, she waded toward the shadows under the bridge, her senses on high alert. She paused in the stillness, listening for any sound that might betray another presence—crunching leaves, footsteps, anything.
There was nothing.
Standing in the shadow of the bridge, Rainy leaned against the rough wood of the bridge’s support, clutching the stone close to her chest. The world felt different now, heavier with meaning, as if the river had given her something more than she understood. She pressed the stone into her pocket.
For a moment, Rainy allowed herself to breathe. Whatever this was, whatever it meant, she had found it. Or perhaps, it had found her.
As she stood in the shallows of the river, her heart and her mind were racing. With another cautious look all around, she slowly pulled the small stone from the large pocket of her apron.
Now, as she held it in her cupped hand, a thrill ran through her. The stone was a couple inches long, about an inch across, not as thick. It flickered with colors, shifting in a mesmerizing dance. There was something about it, something almost alive—an internal glow that warmed her trembling hand. The stone felt familiar, almost as if it had been waiting for her. This was no ordinary object. It was hers, and it knew her.
She starred at the stones glistening surface. There was an encryption carved into the smooth surface. She knew what it said before she even read it. It was as if this stone was hers, as if she had carved the words herself.
She gently caressed the surface of the stone, her fingers brushing its smooth surface. Her pulse quickened as she hesitated for a moment before squeezing it softly. "Only if's true", she whispered. The sensation was immediate—a tingling, creeping up her arms, spreading like electricity. The world around her began to unravel, spinning like threads of a tapestry being torn apart. She could feel her body moving on its own, as if wrapped in time itself, her mind struggling to keep up.
She immediately released her grip, grounding herself. She was still standing ankle-deep in the river, but now her mind was filled with questions. What was this stone? What secret did it hold? Rainy didn’t fully understand it yet, but deep down, she felt she would. The answer wasn’t in words or lessons. It was in the knowing—an unshakable truth that would come if she listened. This stone must be a guide of some kind, and it had chosen her.
Closing her eyes to steady herself, she gripped the stone again, a mix of excitement and trepidation swirling in her chest. This time, the tingling sensation spread faster, moving up her arms with increasing intensity. Though she couldn’t see the threads, she knew they were there, spinning around her. She felt her body move faster than anything she’d ever known. No horse, no Arrow could match this speed. She was racing—faster, faster, until the very air around her seemed to hum with power.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she forced her eyes open. The river, the village, the plateau—all of it had shrunk below her. In an instant, the landscape blurred into nothing. She was alone in a vast expanse, surrounded only by stars. Time and space felt irrelevant. It wasn’t power she sought, though. It was truth.
Then, just as quickly as it had started, everything stopped. She felt as though she had slammed into an invisible wall, and in an instant, she was back in her body, standing in the river. The exhilaration faded, replaced by the weight of understanding. The stone had shown her something, but there was a boundary—a wall beyond which she couldn’t go yet. The stone was leading her to something deeper, a knowing she couldn’t yet grasp but could feel was within reach.
As the realization settled in, so did the consequences. She wasn’t just seeking answers. She was now a Reader, and with that came a dangerous truth. The elders would know, and once they did, the whole village would know. A Reader could never stay in the village they were born in. They would be hunted, killed, forced to leave. Rainy’s world had changed in an instant. She could never return home.
A headache pulsed at her temples as she stood there, the wind brushing past her face. Her mind raced, but it was too much to process. She reached in her pocket for the stone again, but it was gone. Panic gripped her as she searched her hands and looked around frantically. But she wasn’t in the river anymore. She was on the bridge, dry, with no memory of how she had gotten there.
It was a vision, she realized. A vision—or was it? Rainy closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, and felt the faintest echo of the stone’s warmth in her hand. The truth wasn’t something she could grasp fully yet, but it was there, waiting for her to understand it in time.
She turned toward the path leading away from the village, a strange calm settling over her. Rainy didn’t need to be told what to do. The knowing was inside her now, guiding her. She wasn’t afraid, though she knew the journey ahead would be dangerous. The stone had revealed something vast, something infinite, and she couldn’t go back to the life she’d known.
But before she could take a step, she saw a group of men had appeared at the edge of the bridge. They stood frozen, their eyes wide with fear. Some clutched tools like makeshift weapons. Her father stepped forward, his voice calm but firm.
“Be still,” he said to the group of men with a wave of his hand. And to his daughter, “This is as it must be, child.”
Rainy met his gaze, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions within. She glanced skyward, her heart steady now.
“I know what I must do.”
The path beyond their small farm split at the wooden bridge: one way led to the Gardens, the other to the Temple. Rainy hesitated there, caught in the pull of both directions. She looked one way then the other, knowing that she stood now at a fork in the trail of her own life.
This bridge; it was the place where she divided ways with her family, with the village, with everyone. She had never grown close to the others her age. They weren’t interested in the things that she was. They clamored with each other in clumsy rituals of popularity, each trying to outdo the others in the game of life. She didn’t fit in and she knew it, they all knew it. She was very alone.
Taking a deep breath, Rainy stepped onto the bridge, and then hesitated. She didn’t know where the day would take her, but the nagging sense of something missing pushed her forward. Somewhere, she believed, the truth she sought was waiting.
Half way across the bridge, Rainy leaned on the railing; staring down at the river below as though it was a third path. The water twisted and rippled, carrying twigs and leaves along its surface as though they might offer some kind of answer. What was missing? She felt in her pocket, where had she left the book?
She had a sense of something grand and dreadful, yet demanding her attention. She didn’t really want to look, but she didn’t resist. After a long moment holding her breath, she sighed, shaking her head. There was nothing unusual down there—just her imagination running wild again.
The air hung heavy, damp and still. It was strange; the past few days had been dominated by fierce winds, and now there wasn’t even the faintest breeze. Rainy leaned further over the wooden railing, her chin resting in her hands, trying to push away the tension knotted in her muscles.
She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on her breath, but the weight of her thoughts pressed back in. Why am I even here? she wondered. She was drained from everything boiling around her.
The world around her was alive with sound: the quiet rustle of a squirrel darting through leaves, the cheerful gurgle of the creek below, and, faintly, the rhythmic crack of an axe against wood in the distance. Somewhere beyond the trees, children’s laughter echoed, mingling with the industrious hum of the village. Rainy tried to let the comforting chorus soothe her, but her gaze was drawn back to the river.
At first, she wasn’t sure what caught her attention—a shimmer, a flicker of light where there shouldn’t have been any. She leaned over the railing as far as she could, her brow furrowing in suspicion, her heart suddenly thudding harder in her chest. There, in the shadowy water, colors swirled and danced in a way that defied explanation.
Her pulse quickened. What is that? she murmured, but the question hung unanswered in the thick air. The glow didn’t move with the current. It stayed there, steady, as though waiting.
Rainy didn’t hesitate. She stepped off the bridge and made her way to the riverbank, pushing through the towering stalks of grass that tugged at her clothes. She was so focused on the light that she hardly noticed the mud pulling at her feet—until she slipped and plunged face-first into the river.
The shock of cold water stole her breath, but she quickly pushed herself upright, her clothes clinging to her as the current tugged at her waist. She didn’t care. Her eyes locked on the glowing spot, which seemed to grow brighter as she moved closer.
The colors were mesmerizing, swirling like liquid fire and ice, and as Rainy reached the spot, she saw the source: a single stone, lying quietly at the bottom of the river. Its light pulsed faintly, as if alive, sending ripples of color through the dark water.
Rainy hesitated. Her fingers trembled as she reached beneath the surface, half expecting the stone to vanish or dart away like a fish. But it didn’t. It was solid, warm even, as her hand closed around it.
Something about the stone felt familiar, and... important. She couldn’t explain it, but the thought of leaving it there seemed impossible. Cradling it tightly, she waded toward the shadows under the bridge, her senses on high alert. She paused in the stillness, listening for any sound that might betray another presence—crunching leaves, footsteps, anything.
There was nothing.
Standing in the shadow of the bridge, Rainy leaned against the rough wood of the bridge’s support, clutching the stone close to her chest. The world felt different now, heavier with meaning, as if the river had given her something more than she understood. She pressed the stone into her pocket.
For a moment, Rainy allowed herself to breathe. Whatever this was, whatever it meant, she had found it. Or perhaps, it had found her.
As she stood in the shallows of the river, her heart and her mind were racing. With another cautious look all around, she slowly pulled the small stone from the large pocket of her apron.
Now, as she held it in her cupped hand, a thrill ran through her. The stone was a couple inches long, about an inch across, not as thick. It flickered with colors, shifting in a mesmerizing dance. There was something about it, something almost alive—an internal glow that warmed her trembling hand. The stone felt familiar, almost as if it had been waiting for her. This was no ordinary object. It was hers, and it knew her.
She starred at the stones glistening surface. There was an encryption carved into the smooth surface. She knew what it said before she even read it. It was as if this stone was hers, as if she had carved the words herself.
She gently caressed the surface of the stone, her fingers brushing its smooth surface. Her pulse quickened as she hesitated for a moment before squeezing it softly. "Only if's true", she whispered. The sensation was immediate—a tingling, creeping up her arms, spreading like electricity. The world around her began to unravel, spinning like threads of a tapestry being torn apart. She could feel her body moving on its own, as if wrapped in time itself, her mind struggling to keep up.
She immediately released her grip, grounding herself. She was still standing ankle-deep in the river, but now her mind was filled with questions. What was this stone? What secret did it hold? Rainy didn’t fully understand it yet, but deep down, she felt she would. The answer wasn’t in words or lessons. It was in the knowing—an unshakable truth that would come if she listened. This stone must be a guide of some kind, and it had chosen her.
Closing her eyes to steady herself, she gripped the stone again, a mix of excitement and trepidation swirling in her chest. This time, the tingling sensation spread faster, moving up her arms with increasing intensity. Though she couldn’t see the threads, she knew they were there, spinning around her. She felt her body move faster than anything she’d ever known. No horse, no Arrow could match this speed. She was racing—faster, faster, until the very air around her seemed to hum with power.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she forced her eyes open. The river, the village, the plateau—all of it had shrunk below her. In an instant, the landscape blurred into nothing. She was alone in a vast expanse, surrounded only by stars. Time and space felt irrelevant. It wasn’t power she sought, though. It was truth.
Then, just as quickly as it had started, everything stopped. She felt as though she had slammed into an invisible wall, and in an instant, she was back in her body, standing in the river. The exhilaration faded, replaced by the weight of understanding. The stone had shown her something, but there was a boundary—a wall beyond which she couldn’t go yet. The stone was leading her to something deeper, a knowing she couldn’t yet grasp but could feel was within reach.
As the realization settled in, so did the consequences. She wasn’t just seeking answers. She was now a Reader, and with that came a dangerous truth. The elders would know, and once they did, the whole village would know. A Reader could never stay in the village they were born in. They would be hunted, killed, forced to leave. Rainy’s world had changed in an instant. She could never return home.
A headache pulsed at her temples as she stood there, the wind brushing past her face. Her mind raced, but it was too much to process. She reached in her pocket for the stone again, but it was gone. Panic gripped her as she searched her hands and looked around frantically. But she wasn’t in the river anymore. She was on the bridge, dry, with no memory of how she had gotten there.
It was a vision, she realized. A vision—or was it? Rainy closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, and felt the faintest echo of the stone’s warmth in her hand. The truth wasn’t something she could grasp fully yet, but it was there, waiting for her to understand it in time.
She turned toward the path leading away from the village, a strange calm settling over her. Rainy didn’t need to be told what to do. The knowing was inside her now, guiding her. She wasn’t afraid, though she knew the journey ahead would be dangerous. The stone had revealed something vast, something infinite, and she couldn’t go back to the life she’d known.
But before she could take a step, she saw a group of men had appeared at the edge of the bridge. They stood frozen, their eyes wide with fear. Some clutched tools like makeshift weapons. Her father stepped forward, his voice calm but firm.
“Be still,” he said to the group of men with a wave of his hand. And to his daughter, “This is as it must be, child.”
Rainy met his gaze, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions within. She glanced skyward, her heart steady now.
“I know what I must do.”