Raziel woke up excited this morning. The mushrooms he wanted should be ready today. They were his favorite. He sat up, grabbed his green tunic and brown pants. He got dressed and slipped on his shoes. Grabbing his basket, he raced downstairs.

He paused at the door only to pick up his bow, quiver and a hair tie. Raziel threw his hair back in a man bun and rushed outside. If he was not fast enough the forest creatures would eat his morels.  

With eager footsteps he traveled into the forest. He jumped over a fallen log. The last heavy rain knocked it down. The forest was still damp with morning dew. He found his favorite spot and frowned. All his mushrooms were gone.

In frustration and disappointment, he sat on a tree stump. 

A soft giggle drew his attention to the right. A fairy wisp stared right at him. She motioned her small arms for him to come. She couldn’t have been taller than about five inches. Her wings beat like a hummingbird.

“There is another patch over here. I will take you to them.” Her voice held a strange, but familiar power drawing him to follow.

He picked up his basket and stood up. Slow steps led him toward the fairy. When he got close enough to almost touch her, she flew away. Slow and deliberate, leading him deep into the forest.

A part of the forest he knew he wasn’t allowed in. But the fairies allure almost mesmerized him. He felt compelled to follow.

The fairy stopped at a fresh set of morels and the young boy squealed with excitement. His attention now solely on his obsession that he did not notice the forest go quiet.    

He dropped the mushroom he was picking when he heard a twig snap. He now noticed that the usual cacophony of the glade, filled with cicadas’ buzzing and birds’ songs, was replaced by an eerie stillness.

Raziel paused, his senses on high alert. He scanned the clearing. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. His head snapped to the right at the sound of another breaking twig. Crows took flight, their caws echoing, breaking the silence.

His breath caught in his throat. Goosebumps rose on his skin as every muscle in his body tensed. The footsteps came closer. His heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears.

Letting out the breath he was holding, he swiftly took the bow from his back and an arrow from his quiver. He nocked it and aimed in the direction of the sound. A cougar leapt out of the underbrush; its eyes locked onto him.

“Shit!” Raziel let the arrow fly. It flew straight but missed its target, embedding itself in a tree just past the beast. He dropped his bow and the basket of mushrooms. The young boy took off at a dead run, his feet pounding the forest floor.

He knew this forest like the back of his hand. Its paths, the hidden clearings, the ancient trees, all were imprinted in his memory. Yet panic, a blinding and irrational force, surged through him. It clouded his thoughts and instincts.

He bolted through the dense undergrowth, branches whipped at his face. Roots and stones threatened to trip him with every step.

In his frantic state, he didn’t realize he was veering off his usual routes. The familiar landmarks became a blur as he sprinted through the forest, driven by a primal urge to escape.

The sounds of the forest seemed to amplify his heartbeat that echoed in his ears like a drum. He pushed harder, unaware that his path was leading him towards the one place he had always avoided. The lake, the forbidden lake.

The trees thinned, giving way to a clearing bathed in an eerie light. He skidded to a halt at the edge of the cliff.  He looked down, it was a steep rock face. He eyed the lake. It stretched out, its surface unnaturally still.

The darkening sky above cast shadows upon its surface. This place was a realm of old magic and ancient curses, a place where the forest’s usual rules didn’t apply.

His eyes widened as he realized his mistake, the stories and warnings flooded into his mind. The tales his father told him of spirits that roamed the water’s edge. Of those who ventured too close never returned.

The young boy had been taught from a young age to avoid this place at all costs, yet here he was. The lake offered the only escape from the cougar. He could feel the hum of ancient magic. Raziel’s fear only rose.

He had to turn back, to find his way out of this cursed place. The young boy took a hesitant step toward where he had come from, but the cougar now stood before him. It snarled. The panic, which had driven him here, now held him captive. Paralyzed with fear.

He took a step back, but his foot was on the edge of the cliff. Raziel’s chest was heaving with exhaustion. His breath was short, ragged, gasping for air. He looked over the cliff and back at the beast.

The beast leaped at him. Its claws shined in the light that filtered through the clouds. He had no choice.

“Fuck!” He swore as he turned and jumped. The ancient magic ripped through his soul as his body dropped the fifty-foot descent into the water below. The predator failed to halt its momentum and plummeted into the lake with him.

The icy water knocked the breath out of him, and Raziel lost consciousness. The cold, enchanted water whispered his name.

“Raziel… Raziel…” He sank deeper and deeper into the crystal-clear lake. His mind unresponsive, he only sunk further into the depths of the water.

“RAZIEL!” His eyes snapped open, and he gasped, drawing water into his lungs. To his surprise, he wasn’t drowning.

“Raziel, you must come, your people need you.”

He looked around for the source of the voice but saw nothing—just some small rainbow trout floating by.

As he began to swim, Raziel felt an inexplicable pull guiding him deeper into the abyss. He ventured further down, taking slow, deliberate breaths.

As he descended, the water around him shimmered with an ethereal glow. Strange, bioluminescent plants swayed gently in the currents, their light casting eerie, dancing shadows.

A school of Luminara fish swam past him, their scales glowing like stars, illuminating the depths. Raziel couldn’t help but pause and marvel at them. He had only ever seen these magnificent creatures in his books.

He had studied them with his father, and they were among his favorite fish. As he watched in awe, something brushed against his face.

It was the wing of a Seraphi, a majestic sea serpent with iridescent scales and wings that shimmered like a peacock’s feathers. The creature glided gracefully through the water, its deep, wise eyes meeting Raziel’s for a brief moment before it disappeared into the depths.

His curiosity grew when he encountered a Nereid, a water nymph with flowing hair made of seaweed and eyes that sparkled like sapphires. She smiled at him, “Come with me.”

Raziel paused, his heart pounding. “How do I know you won’t kill me?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Her laughter echoed through the water like a gentle melody. She simply gestured for him to follow. Despite his hesitation, her presence felt almost familiar, comforting.

The cave felt like a gateway to another world, its entrance partially hidden by glowing seaweed.

“She pointed through the cave. Follow this to go home,” she said softly, waving goodbye before swimming back the way they had come.

Raziel watched her leave. He turned to take in the immense cavern around him. A strange pull of gravity forced him to walk, not swim. The cave floor was covered in fine silt that swirled gently with each step he took. Strange, ethereal light seemed to emanate from the walls, revealing the intricate beauty of the underwater realm.

As he moved deeper inside. It formed a vaulted space adorned with bioluminescent algae that cast an eerie yet enchanting glow. The ceiling filled with holes, smaller caves that diverged from the main, offering certain death.

Schools of tiny, iridescent fish darted around him, their movement adding to the surreal beauty of the place.

As he ventured further, the path narrowed into a tunnel illuminated by clusters of glowing, floating underwater fungi, their soft light guiding him forward. The water seemed to condense and coalesce with a sense of ancient magic and secrets waiting to be uncovered.

He came to a cliff face. He stopped and looked down. The drop seemed to extend deeper than he could see. He lifted his eyes, gazing level with where he stood, he gasped.

A submerged city glimmered in the dark water. He leapt off the cliff and began to swim towards the beautiful structures. The architecture was unlike anything he had ever seen, with buildings made of coral and adorned with pearls and precious stones.

The city was alive with activity. What he guessed were elves, walked through the streets as if they were on land, tending to gardens of glowing sea anemones. They all stopped what they were doing on his arrival.

Two Elven guards came up to him. They stopped him. The spears crossed like an X. “What do you want intruder?”

Raziel answered them honestly. “I do not know, I just felt guided here as if I belong here.”

“What is your name?”

“Raziel.”

The two guards looked at each other with a curious expression. “Let us take him to the King.” The first guard announced to the second.

The other guard just nodded. The first turned back to Raziel, “Come with us.”

Oddly Raziel felt safe. He nodded his head and followed them. They walked down the diamond road to the palace. He looked around in wonder.

Raziel marveled at the water sprites, little aquatic dragons, with iridescent scales with colorful wings. They darted playfully around, leaving trails of sparkling bubbles in their wake.

In the heart of the city stood a grand palace, its spires piercing the surface like ancient sentinels. As Raziel approached, the palace gates swung open. He gasped as a vast and opulent hall was revealed.

Tapestries, woven with exquisite detail, adorned the walls, each thread telling a story long forgotten. A war, the shattering of Nexus. He recognized the tale from his book, The Forgotten Gods, the scenes of chaos and heroism brought vividly to life.

Silent and stoic, the guards led him through the magnificent halls. The air was thick with a sense of history and mystique, the echoes of footsteps the only sound in the vast space.

The King sat upon a throne at the far end of the hall. It was an elaborate chair carved from the finest corals and adorned with pearls. 

His regal figure was imposing, crowned with gold and holding a staff that shimmered with mystical light. The King’s eyes, deep and knowing, fixed on Raziel with a blend of curiosity and recognition. The King rose from his throne, his presence commanding and majestic.

“Who do we have here?” he asked, his voice resonating through the hall like a melodious tide.

The first guard stepped forward, bowing slightly. “Sire, we have a man that claims to be Raziel.”

The King’s eyes narrowed, a spark of intrigue lighting up within them. He studied Raziel intently, the weight of his gaze probing yet respectful.

The hall seemed to hold its breath; the silence almost palpable as Raziel stood before the King. The king smirked.

“You may leave, he is who he says he is.” He turned to the young boy. “Welcome, Raziel,” the King said, his voice resonating through the water. “We have been expecting you.”

Raziel’s heart raced. “Why have you been expecting me?” Raziel asked, his voice echoing softly through the water.

The light from the glowing staff in the King’s hand illuminated the room, casting a warm, golden glow.

The Elven King walked toward Raziel. His movements are graceful and deliberate. “You are my grandson; it was only a matter of time before you ended up in the forbidden lake.”

Raziel’s mind raced with questions, but before he could speak, the King gestured for him to follow.

“Come, let me show you something. It has been in our family for generations. Every young royal boy, at the age of twelve, is given the opportunity to wield it. You have not had your chance yet.”

They walked through the grand hall, passing by more tapestries and statues of legendary figures. The King led him to a smaller, more intimate chamber filled with ancient scrolls and artifacts.

“This,” the King said, pointing to a large, ornate chest, “contains the Bow of the Gods. It is a powerful artifact, capable of harnessing the energy of Nexus itself. Many seek it, have fought wars over it but only the one it chooses can wield it. Since its creation, it has yet to bond with anyone.”

Raziel’s eyes widened as the King opened the chest, revealing a magnificent bow made from a branch of the Great Ash Tree of Nexus.

 “Take it,” the King urged. “See if it is your destiny.”

With trembling hands, Raziel reached out and grasped the bow. As soon as his fingers touched it, a surge of power coursed through him.

He felt a deep connection to the cosmos. The life of the planet seemed to speak to him. Almost as if he could feel everything as it lived and died.

The bow flashed with light and then disappeared. Raziel looked frightened.

The King chuckled. “It is alright. It has chosen you. Aurelian is not gone. He will not hang from your back until you have used his power to take one’s life. Only then will he be able to travel visibly in the material realm.”

“Now,” the King continued, “you are my grandson. Your mother…” His expression darkened. “She died at the hands of your father years ago. Our treaty is long forgotten as he plagues our lands with his dark spells. I do not believe you have found any favor with him?”

“Who? My father? Issac?” Raziel asked in confusion.

The King chuckled. “You do not have any memory of your Fae Father?”

“What is a fae?”

“Oh, by the gods, thank you Renaldo. He promised us a savior, and I think he has accomplished just that. You, Raziel, you are the 12th in line for the crown in the fae wild. ‘Fae’, is what you are. Normally inherently evil. But, I am sure your mother’s side gives you the kindness you display.

“Your people need your assistance. Your father has poisoned our seas. I need you to seek out a man Named WindRaven. He is royalty in the human kingdom.

To find him you will have to cross the seas to a distant land. It will be treacherous, but you must find him as he wears something taken from us. A pendant that was stolen from us long ago. Only then can you restore the connection we once had to Nexus and bring peace to our sea’s and your people once more.”

Ice filled the boy’s veins, “I am no prince. I don’t know how to fight; I know nothing of bringing peace. How am I supposed to do any of this?”

The King chuckled. “Do not fear Aurelian will guide you. I also have this for you.” He handed him a map, its surface covered in ancient runes and symbols.

“I am sorry, but I am not your prince. I know nothing about this. I am not a brave warrior. Hell, I can’t even accurately shoot an arrow. I… I need to get home. Father is going to be angry at me. I have been gone too long.” Raziel turned to leave, his voice laced with desperation.

“Raziel? At least, keep your mind open? You never know how things will turn out. Fate has a way of settling into place when it is needed,” the King said, his tone gentle yet firm.

Raziel nodded, his face set with determination. “I make no promises. I have no desire to be a prince, sir.”

As he left the palace, a deep-seated fear settled into his bones. Change was in the air; he could feel it. It terrified him. The weight of the unknown pressed down on his shoulders, making every step feel heavier.

He swam through the bustling city, the aquatic elves and water sprites watching him with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Their shimmering forms flitted through the water like shadows. Their eyes followed his every move. Raziel tried not to pay them any attention, his mind focused solely on getting home.

The city was a maze of coral structures and bioluminescent pathways, the light casting eerie patterns on the walls. Raziel’s heart pounded as he navigated the unfamiliar terrain. Every turn brought new sights and sounds, the vibrant life of the underwater city contrasting sharply with his inner turmoil.

Despite the beauty that surrounded him, all Raziel wanted was the comfort of his own bed, away from the weight of expectation and the unknown future that loomed before him.