Of course it would chase me. Why wouldn't it? I thought bitterly.

Every fiber of my being was focused on reaching the safety of the bank. My heart raced, and my mind raced faster, trying to figure out if I could somehow climb one of the trees or find a hiding spot. But all I knew was that I couldn't let that thing catch me. Which was difficult considering how much sloshing I'd done through the water and mud.

I pushed myself harder, hoping that whatever ancestral strength was supposed to be in my blood would kick in right about now. I mean, I hadn’t survived every illness I had just to become gator bait, had I? Hell no. That was always at the root of my panic, really. I didn’t wanna die, not ever. I wanted to live, dammit.

As the trees grew closer and the beast's roars grew louder, one thought dominated my mind: I better reach that fucking bank.

The shoreline was agonizingly close, yet with each stride, the gnarled trees seemed to recede just out of grasp.

Fuckin' swamp! The damn mud's sticking to my feet!

I was definitely having a difficult go of escaping, that was for sure. Every time I took a leaping step, my feet sank further into the silt and required more force to dislodge. After only a few moments, I was heaving and my leg muscles were screaming for respite. A glance over my shoulder revealed the creature gaining ground, its monstrous form slicing through the water with terrifying ease. Every splash it made sent tidal waves of dread crashing over me. This did not look like it was fixing to end great for me.

In a desperate bid, I veered towards a colossal island of grass sprouting from the water. Maybe I could climb on to it and…I don't know…vault myself over to the bank? That seemed like a long shot, but sometimes those were the only shots you had. But as I neared it, the beast let out a deafening roar, and I felt the vibrations through the soles of my feet, signaling its imminent leap. With no time to think, I abandoned my original plan and dove beneath the water's surface, shutting my eyes and kicking my legs furiously, propelling myself in any direction away from the threat.

The murkiness of the water rendered me blind, and I swam on pure instinct, my lungs burning for air. I could feel the displacement of water as the creature thrashed nearby, its roars now muted while I was submerged, but no less terrifying. Just as the pressure in my chest became unbearable, I broke the surface, gasping for breath. Emerging, I found the world spun in disarray. The beast was wheeling toward me, its eyes fixated with predatory intensity. In a split-second decision, I lunged for a nearby floating log, using it as a makeshift raft. ‘Log’ was maybe not the best term, based on the size of the trees. This had to be a piece of one of the massive branches, roughly the proportions of one of those propane tanks you saw sitting on farms and rural properties.

But even as I clambered onto it, the creature darted forward. Shimmering black and green, big as a sperm whale and meaner than a starved rattlesnake, it struck at me. Its enormous stalactite teeth crunched into wood as they snapped shut on the end of the log.

Then it shook it in its jaws.

The force of its bite wrenched both the big branch and me into the air.

“Shiiiit!”

I clung on for dear life as the world blurred sky and water. The sensation of weightlessness was short-lived, and gravity soon reclaimed its hold, sending me plummeting back towards the water.

I braced for impact, hoping against hope that I wouldn't hit a shallow sandbar. The splash as I landed was immense, water rushing into my nose and mouth. Thankfully, the depth cushioned my fall, and I was submerged in deeper waters. I kicked upwards, again breaking the surface, coughing, and spitting out the dirty liquid. Then I was at it again, making my frantic race for the bank.

I sprinted through the water, the monstrous creature's roars echoing behind me. But then, a flicker of movement to my left caught my attention. A shimmering disturbance seemed to dance on the water's surface like a patch of sunlight breaking through dense clouds. An odd sensation, nearly a compulsion, pulled me toward it.

Those look like ripples…

Myri had said to look for ripples. Maybe this could lead to something—if it wasn't just a really messed up euphemism. I chanced a quick glance over my shoulder. The creature was closing in, its massive jaws snapping hungrily. But that shimmer, the pull it had on me...

Screw it!

I couldn't resist. I veered off course, heading straight for the wavelets.

As I neared the shimmer, a gentle, melodic voice resonated within my mind. While Myri's voice had an airy tinge, where it couldn't reasonably be discerned whether it was male or female, this new voice was noticeably feminine.

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Witness, ye, kin, the footprints of the past. Observe. Absorb.

.

It was as though time began to slow suddenly. The waves made by the monster crawled to a near stop, beads of water tumbled sedately before freezing in place—not ice, just unmoving. I looked over my shoulder and started. The crocogator—I’d begun mentally referring to it—was poised only a few dozen feet behind me. Its black scales nearly glowing from its pause in refracted light. I got a good look at its eyes then, the near-on boiling gemstones of hate and malice as its mouth was frozen in a wide snarl, mid-snap.

“These ripples stop time?!” I breathed. “Son of a bitch, that’s lucky as—”

Suddenly, the murkiness of the Boglands dissolved around me. I found myself standing in a place that looked like the swamp but...different. Everything was brighter, more vivid. The air felt purer, the colors more intense. The swamp's so-far oppressive atmosphere was replaced by a feeling of tranquility and reverence.

Before me stood a woman, her long dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of shadows. She was perched just at the edge of a bank; her piercing eyes, so focused and intent, were trained on the water beneath her. Every movement she made was deliberate, every breath deep and measured. She seemed unaware of my presence, or perhaps she simply didn't care.

"May the marsh allow my passage o'er fluid terrain," she said.

I watched, entranced, as she began to channel a power I could feel but not understand. It started as a soft green light, coming to life right around her neck. Then, it flowed from her head down her arms, filling her with radiant energy. Then, with a grace and confidence I could only envy, she placed a foot on the water's surface. Instead of sinking, she remained atop, the brackish water supporting her like solid ground. A wide grin fluttered across her face. She looked…proud. Like she'd achieved something significant. I mean, of course she had—she was standing on water. Something I'd only ever heard of one other person doing—and the reliability of that information was shoddy at best. Then she stepped back onto the bank and sighed low and deep.

"Marsh, release my stride."

I could feel the weight of the moment, the significance of what I was witnessing. This wasn't just a random memory; it was a lesson. I didn't know how I knew that, but I did. And now it was being shared with me.

Time seemed to stretch as I observed her. The ripples under her feet, the gentle sway of her hair in the breeze, and the serene look on her face were all etched into my memory.

And then, as the vision began to wane, she turned to look at me. Our eyes locked, and in her gaze, I saw determination. Hope. An unspoken promise. Her voice echoed once more in my mind, "Witness, ye, kin, the footprints of the past. Observe. Absorb," before the clarity of the scene was swallowed again by the eerie twilight of the Boglands.

The vision faded, leaving me standing alone on the bridge, the weight of what I had just witnessed pressing down on my chest. The words she had spoken resonated in my mind, wrapping around my thoughts like a thick fog. "Witness, ye, kin..." The term 'kin' lingered, casting a web of contemplation. Was she one of my ancestors?

I took a moment, trying to steady my whirlwind of emotions. The woman's appearance was stark in contrast to my own. While her hair was a deep shade of midnight black, mine was a messy dark brown. Her skin, though pale and flawless, was unlike the reddish undertones that tinted my own. But beyond the physical differences, there had been something in her eyes, a certain fire that felt... familiar.

Could it be possible? Did I share a lineage with this enigmatic woman who could command the swamp's very waters? It was a tantalizing thought. Ancestry was a complex tapestry, woven with threads from many sources. Just because she didn’t resemble me directly didn't mean there wasn't some shared connection, some shared bloodline hidden deep within the annals of time. I mean, what in blazes was that she had performed with the…the walking on water?

I was keenly aware that time was still at a standstill, and figured that meant something was yet to be accomplished. Though what that was, who could say? Guess I’d have to just wait and see?

That was when a voice entered my mind, different from the first, and…soundless? Like the kind of voice in my head when I was reading something.

Three positions hath the Deep-Rooted Array. Beyond a third lies hardship to acquire. Place this Galdur in one open position?

I…didn’t know what the hell that meant. Hardship? And…what was a Galdur? It sounded like a body part. I shrugged.

“Sure,” I said.

I considered that maybe I’d misheard or something and it was actually—

But I didn’t get to finish my thought, because suddenly, I felt pain.

A searing hurt erupted at the base of my skull, right where Myri had been yanked out just a little while ago. It was as if a void had opened up, a hollow emptiness that was paradoxically filled with an all-consuming, burning sensation. I doubled over in the water, clutching the back of my head as if I could somehow pull the pain out.

It felt like something heavy was being pressed into that spot. The pain was so acute, so focused, that for a moment, everything else ceased to exist—the swamp, the questions about my ancestry, even the mysterious voice in my head. All that remained was this agonizing sensation, as if my very being was being marked, claimed.

What is this?? An aneurysm?! What in the hell IS THIS?! I demanded in my mind. Stop! Please stop! I felt like I was going to die.

Gasping for air, I fought to remain conscious, my knees buckling under the weight of the pain. It was as if I'd been branded, a hot iron searing into flesh, leaving its mark. My vision blurred, and I felt as though I was on the verge of collapsing into the murky water.

Finally, as abruptly as it had come, the pain began to subside, leaving me swaying with a residual ache and a sense of disorientation. I straightened up cautiously, still feeling the after-effects, like the echo of a scream in a big, empty room.

What just happened? Was this part of the trial? Maybe a… test of my worthiness? Or had something gone terribly wrong? My hand instinctively went to the back of my skull, half-expecting to feel a physical wound, but there was nothing—just the lingering sensation that something had occurred, something that had left its mark not on my body, but on my very soul. I wasn’t sure yet if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Then, right as I was just feeling as though I was recovering, came the knowledge. It surged through me, sudden and intense. It wasn't like learning something new but instead remembering something deeply ingrained. My mind grasped the concept effortlessly, how one remembers a forgotten melody when hearing the first few notes.

The air grew thick and electric, every hair on my body standing on end. From the murky depths of…somewhere, a horde of insects swirled upward, their buzzing forming a deafening crescendo. I nearly swatted them as they closed in, images of being consumed by a living cloud flashing through my mind. But before I could react, their chaotic flight patterns began to morph, each bug finding its precise place in an arrangement in the air directly in my line of sight. The disgusting swarm became a living message, their tiny bodies spelling out a pulsating, almost hypnotic message:

ÓÆÐRI VATNAGÖNGUR LÆRÐAR

What in blazes was this? I didn't… I paused. The words made sense to me suddenly as the insect typography shifted again.

INFERIOR WATERWALKING LEARNED