In the heart of an ancient forest, where the trees whispered secrets to the wind and the stars seemed to weep silver light, there lay a mystical lake called Lacrimora. Its waters were said to hold the tears of the heavens, a shimmering, ever-shifting mirror that could heal the deepest sorrows. But the lake itself was alive, bound to a spirit named Aqualis, a being of liquid starlight and flowing shadows. She was the guardian of the waters, the keeper of sorrows, but her own was heavy with the weight of centuries of grief.
One moonlit night, as the forest hummed with the song of crickets and the air was thick with the scent of pine, a young wanderer named Eryn stumbled upon Lacrimora. He was a dreamer, his heart as wild and untamed as the forest itself, and he had been drawn to the lake by a whisper on the wind—a plea he could not ignore. When he reached the shore, he saw Aqualis rising from the depths, her form shimmering like moonlight on water, her eyes deep and endless, filled with a sorrow that made Eryn’s breath catch.
“Who are you?” Eryn asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes locked on hers.
Aqualis smiled softly, her voice echoing like the distant roar of the sea. “Am surprised you can see me! I am the spirit of this lake. Healer of the hearts"
Eryn stepped closer, his boots sinking into the soft earth at the water’s edge. “But, you look... sad,” he said softly.
Aqualis laughed, her laughter a tinkle carried on the wind in the leaves, and it hummed through Eryn
“Oh no, don't worry about that, you clearly are looking for something, tell me your story!"
"But you seem like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders! Please let me help you!"
Aqualis’s gaze drifted away, her form shimmering with a hint of sadness. “I’ve seen so many souls come and go. They leave their tears behind, and I carry them with me. Sometimes I wish someone could see me, not just the lake, but me—my heart, my desires.”
Before she could stop herself, Aqualis seemed to be confiding in this mortal being, there was something about him, that made her forget herself
"Shall I tell you a happy story, instead?", Eryn stepped into the water, like a child and playfully asked her
No one had done that before!
Night after night, Eryn returned to the lake. He brought stories and songs, laughter and light, and with each visit, Aqualis’s heart grew lighter. The spirit began to look forward to Eryn’s arrival, his presence like a balm to the centuries of loneliness. And Eryn, in turn, found himself drawn to Aqualis, to the haunting beauty of her form, the depth of her sorrow, the way her laughter sounded like the gentle lapping of waves. Their nights were filled with whispered promises and shared dreams, their days with the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.
But their love was not without its shadows. Aqualis was bound to the lake, her essence tied to its waters, and Eryn was mortal, his life fleeting compared to the eternity of the spirit’s existence. They both knew their time together was borrowed, a fragile thing that could not last.
One night, as the moon hung low and the stars seemed to hold their breath, Eryn knelt by the shore and took Aqualis’s hand. Her touch was cool and fluid, like water slipping through his fingers. “I don’t want to leave you,” Eryn whispered, his voice breaking. “But I know I can’t stay forever.”
Aqualis’s eyes filled with tears, though none fell. “You don’t have to,” she replied, her voice soft as the ripples on the lake. “Love isn’t about how long we have, these moments with you have been the brightest of my existence.”
Tears streamed down Eryn’s face, and as they fell into the lake, they shimmered like stars. Aqualis cupped Eryn’s face in her hands, her touch gentle yet filled with longing. “Tomorrow you will go and live your life filled our love and I will wait for you when you are ready,” she whispered.
And the silence filled their hearts and they held each other—hauntingly, desperately, knowing their time was fleeting.
And Eryn bade his goodbye in the morning and went and lived his life as Aqualis wanted him to. The years passed, Eryn grew older, his hair turning silver, his steps slowing, while Aqualis remained unchanged, eternal.
When Eryn’s time came, he returned to the lake one last time. He knelt by the shore, his breath shallow, his heart heavy with the weight of goodbye. Aqualis rose from the depths, her form shimmering with tears she could not shed. “You are here,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“I never left,” Eryn replied, his voice soft but steady. “My blood in my veins was made of you...”
And as Eryn closed his eyes for the last time, Aqualis gathered him in her arms, her form enveloping Eryn like the gentle embrace of the lake. And when the morning came, Eryn was gone, but the waters of Lacrimora shimmered with a new light, one that danced like fireflies on a summer’s eve.
And if you ever come upon Lacrimora yourself and listen closely, you might hear two voices intertwined, one mortal and one eternal, singing a love story that transcends time itself