The jungle was alive with sounds: the hum of insects, the distant call of birds, and the low rustling of leaves that suggested larger creatures prowling unseen. Calla crouched on the edge of a moss-covered rock, peering through the dense foliage ahead. Her machete hung at her side, its blade dulled by days of cutting through the undergrowth. She wiped the sweat from her brow, her gaze fixed on the shimmering, impossible sight ahead.

The river was made of glass.

It flowed as though it were water, its surface rippling and glinting in the dappled sunlight. Calla had heard the stories—a river that wasn’t water, that could show you truths you weren’t ready to see—but she hadn’t believed them. Not until now.

“This is it,” she murmured, glancing back at the figure behind her.

Her client, a man named Fenric, stepped forward. He was pale and wiry, with sharp features and an air of restless energy. His eyes lit up as he saw the river. “Beautiful,” he breathed. “And deadly, I’m sure.”

Calla’s fingers tightened around the strap of her pack. “You didn’t hire me for admiration,” she said. “You hired me to guide you upstream. And if this river is as dangerous as they say, we’ll need to stay sharp.”

Fenric smiled thinly. “Of course. Lead the way, tracker.”

----------------------------------------

They followed the river’s edge, careful to avoid touching its flowing surface. It moved silently, almost hypnotically, and Calla couldn’t shake the feeling that it was watching them somehow. The jungle grew denser as they progressed, the air heavy with moisture and the smell of earth.

“Why are you doing this?” Fenric asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Calla didn’t look at him. “You paid me. That’s enough.”

“But you don’t have the look of someone who does this just for money.”

She hesitated. “I’m looking for someone. My sister. She disappeared years ago, heading upstream. If this river really leads to something… I need to know.”

Fenric tilted his head. “And if you don’t like what you find?”

Calla’s jaw tightened. “That’s my problem.”

----------------------------------------

The first sign of danger came on the second day.

They camped near a rocky outcrop, the glass river glinting faintly in the moonlight. Calla woke to the sound of movement, her hand instantly going to her machete. Fenric was already awake, staring into the darkness.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

“Something’s out there,” he whispered.

Calla listened. At first, she heard only the usual jungle sounds. Then, faintly, she caught it: a rhythmic crunching, like footsteps on brittle glass.

They emerged from the trees—creatures unlike anything Calla had ever seen. Their bodies were translucent and crystalline, reflecting the moonlight in a dazzling array of colors. They moved awkwardly but purposefully, their heads turning toward the river as though drawn by an invisible force.

“What are they?” Fenric whispered.

“I don’t know,” Calla replied. “But let’s not find out.”

They crept away from the campsite, their movements slow and deliberate. The creatures didn’t seem to notice them, their attention fixed on the river. When Calla looked back, she saw one reach out to touch the flowing glass. Its body shimmered and then shattered, scattering into a thousand glittering fragments that were carried downstream.

----------------------------------------

As they continued upstream, the jungle itself seemed to change. The trees grew taller and more twisted, their bark reflecting the same glass-like sheen as the river. The ground became uneven, littered with shards of crystal that crunched underfoot.

On the third day, they encountered the first illusion.

They were crossing a narrow ridge when Calla suddenly stopped. Ahead of her stood a young girl, barefoot and pale, her dark hair tangled around her face. Calla’s heart seized.

“Mira?” she whispered.

The girl turned to her, her face eerily blank. “Calla,” she said, her voice a hollow echo.

Calla started forward, but Fenric grabbed her arm. “It’s not real,” he said firmly.

She shook him off. “You don’t know that!”

“Look at her!” Fenric shouted. “She’s not even casting a shadow!”

Calla froze, her gaze darting to the ground. He was right. The girl’s feet hovered just above the ground, her form flickering faintly, like sunlight on water. Slowly, the illusion faded, leaving only the shimmering river ahead.

----------------------------------------

By the time they reached the river’s source, Calla felt like she was walking through a dream. The jungle had vanished, replaced by a vast clearing where the river rose from a massive, crystalline structure that pulsed faintly with light.

Fenric’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “We’ve found it,” he said.

Calla wasn’t listening. Her attention was fixed on the figure standing at the river’s source—a woman with dark hair and a face so familiar it made her chest ache.

“Mira,” she whispered, stepping forward.

Her sister smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Fenric reached out to stop her, but Calla shook him off. “This is what I came for,” she said.

Mira led her to the source of the river, her hand warm and solid in Calla’s. The crystalline structure seemed to hum as they approached, its light intensifying.

“What is this place?” Calla asked.

“It’s a choice,” Mira replied. “The river grants what you desire most. But it takes just as much as it gives. Are you ready for that?”

Calla hesitated. She looked back at Fenric, who was staring at the river, his expression unreadable. Then she looked at Mira, the sister she had searched for so long.

“I don’t care about the cost,” she said. “I want my sister back.”

Mira’s smile widened, and the light enveloped them both.

----------------------------------------

When Calla woke, she was alone. The jungle was silent, the river gone.

She stood slowly, her head pounding. In her hand, she held a shard of crystal, its surface rippling faintly like water. She didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse, but she knew one thing for certain: the river had changed her, and the world she returned to would never be the same.