The hazy light filled the air. I paddled the kayak a little faster. All I could see was grey fog surrounding me. Creatures bumped into the kayak and it gently swayed. I felt a gentle bump as my kayak jolted, almost knocking me out of the boat. I made my way through the swamp, trees and vines extending out of the water, damp and wet. Something gripped my paddle. Piranhas.

My heart raced as the piranhas gnawed at my paddle, ripping it to shreds. I forcefully pulled the paddle out of the water, but then they began to gnaw in the kayak. I scrambled to move my paddle faster through the murky water. My heart sank into my chest. I didn’t have a paddle anymore. Fear gripped my heart, and I wasn’t just about to stick my hands in the dirty, disease-filled water. I acted as if nothing had happened. I didn’t pull my phone out of my pocket. I continue to flow through the murky water, now increasingly slow. 
My heart began to slow down. The intense heat burned my skin. My hat slid off my head. Something long bumped the boat. And I was taken to somewhere new. A cave, no, more like a cavern. A man, shaggy, dark beard and rustled eyebrows greeted me. He had a fire going, and I was wrapped in a slimy blanket. 
“You’re awake,” he said. 
“Who are you?” I demanded. 
“Don’t worry. You looked like you needed some saving, so I had my eel help you,” he said.
“I was going to get somewhere new, not in here!” I shouted.
“Relax, your destination is just beyond this cavern,” he added.
I got up. Throwing my blanket toward him. He caught as it gracefully fell onto the ground. I walked through the dark corridors of the cavern, before a large archway with pillars was before me. Gates flung open with a cobblestone sign that said New Tower. The tower was right in front of me, it rose up into the air, delicate and intricate designs. 
“Name,” a robotic voice asked.
I stared up at the long, protruding tip of the tower, and I proceeded to tell the robot my name. 

The journey had been completed after all…

As the hazy light filtered through the trees, Hami released a sigh of relief. It was as if she’d been holding her breath for the last mile along this river. The Salopeng. 56 miles of rushing waters from East to West. It’s what separates antiquity from industry; and farmers from the city. Hami thanks God that the sun is finally rising, but it will be a little while longer before she can embrace it’s warmth. The dawn’s icy breeze whips across her raw cheeks and blistered lips. With each labored thrust of the oars, her bloodied fingers are met with the surface of Salopeng’s freezing ripples. She prayed to soon see the rooftops of Agnon Capital.

Hazy light filtered through the trees The water vibrates through the sticks of trees that grow leaves only through the eyes of the mist Lets focus on the sun that rises above the horizon mists now that I know I see the clouds of hope were there is no doubt about the mist or tanny view I just looked up and saw the day was new

As the hazy light filtered through the trees, I felt at ease. I was home. Miles away lay a kingdom that I was supposed to lead. But here was the place that I actually felt like royalty. The current slowly moved me through the rising trees. The sun came through like a dim spot light. It was as if nature was telling me I was doing okay and that it believed I was meant to be who I was. And because of these moments, I was the ruler who reigned with justice, mercy, and grace.

As a hazy light filters through the trees, I see a little figure sitting in a small boat.

The boat rocks gently while the water whispers beneath it. I watch the little figure sit stonily in the boat. Quietly pushing my oars through the water, I glide just a bit closer to the majestic scene.

As though aware of my presence, the figure turns. It’s a stout woman, standing not so tall. Despite her stunted height, her presence seems to be everywhere at once. Her thin lips tug at the corners into a welcoming smile.

She presses her palms together at her chest and bows towards me. Then, she begins to preform an delicate, whispy dance. Her skirts and arms float around her and she sways and twirls slowly. As she does so, a breeze blows through, rustling the reeds and prompting the water to ripple. As if encouraged by this, the petite woman continues to dance.

I watch, enraptured, as the nature around us begins to seemingly react to her movements. Then, abruptly, she comes to a soft pause. The breeze dies down and the reeds stop shifting. The only thing you can hear is the burbling of the water.

“Come closer, daughter,” she says, her soothing voice barely reaching across to me.

Intrigued, I row closer. Soon, our boats touch at the bows. She unfolds her arms and extends them towards me. I take her hands and she begins to sway.

“Listen to the water. She speaks of wonderful things,” the woman whispers to me, eyes shut.

I let my eyelids flutter shut as well, and begin to sway in sync with her. I concentrate on listening to the water running beneath us.

I hear whispers, words woven together, that speak of paradise and eternal love and joy. I hear stories of anguish that morph into stories of triumph. A passive smile moves over my features to mirror the woman in front of me.

I let out a small sigh and open my eyes. But I’m alone on the river.

As the hazy light filtered through the trees growing from the shallow lake, an unassuming man sits in his rowboat; fishing pole in hand. The sun hung low in the orange sky, with plants stretching up above the early morning fog to receive its golden light. The fisherman had his straw hat draped over his tired old eyes, seeming to be entirely unaware of his surroundings.

Despite his unimpressive appearance, in reality the fisherman was a hidden master of the art of cultivation. While the man appeared to be asleep, he was so attuned to the energies of the world that he could sense the Qi, or life energy, of all the wildlife in the lake below him. He sought only to catch what he needed to feed his four disciples and not a fish more, so as to not disrupt the delicate balance of the ecosystem. A cultivator of his level, nearing the fifth stage of the Earth realm, has no real need to eat as their bodies can sustain themselves on Qi alone.

The cultivator had only heard of three others, the Elders of his old sect, who have progressed past his cultivation level. With this power disparity, he could easily lay claim to a large portion of this world, but such unnecessary displays of power didn’t interest him in the slightest. He had no intention of “defying the heavens” as his sect elders taught him to. All he wanted now was to live peacefully and raise his disciples.

His four disciples were more like children to him than students. They were deemed “too weak” to join the sect and were taken in as servents. As time went on, their treatment from the sect elders became worse and worse until one day when the youngest of them spilled tea on the Grand Master’s robe. The grand master sought to execute the child, but the cultivator stood up for them and eventually decided to take them away from that terrible place.

From that moment on, the cultivator raised the children as his own. He taught them the ways of cultivation, but not to defy the heavens. No, he taught them to respect the Earth and all of its children. The cultivator had no doubt in his mind that he had done the right thing in taking the children away from the sect. There was no doubt in his mind of the love he felt for them and there was no end to the pride he felt in the young adults they have grown to be.

Interrupting his introspection, the cultivator felt a tug on his fishing line. He had gotten so lost in his own thoughts he forgotten what he was doing. Carefully, so as to not cause the fish excessive pain, he pulled the fish out of the water to inspect it. It was a large mature male of a common species in this region, big enough to easily feed everyone. If it were an adolescent or a potential mother, he would have thrown it back and tried for another, but this would do. He gently placed his hand on the wriggling fish and quietly thanked it, the lake, and the earth for supplying his children with sustenance. After a moment of silence, he painlessly dispatched the fish.

With the fish tucked away in his basket, the cultivator rowed his small boat back to his quaint little cottage. In the distance he could see three of his disciples meditating in the water along the shore. The youngest must still be in bed, the lazy scamp. A small smile emerged on the cultivator’s face. Today was going to be a good day.

Water ripples against the shoreline. He watches with baited breath, head cocked, eyes transfixed on the gentle waves. The subtle way of the water, as it’s pushed ashore creating movement in the grass. This intrigues him.

“Something changes the waters.” He signals to his friend. Then picks her up and carries her up a tree. Where they sit silently, blending with the stillness that surrounds this place.

The leaves in the canopy above him shiver. They whisper to each other. A melody unlike anything he’s ever felt is passed from tree to tree. Still, he does not move, and he holds her, and he listens.

As the hazy morning light filters through the trees, he watches the ripples and listens to the whispering song. Peach white light bends and refracts, dancing around a novel thing among the water. His eyes dart, wide, and his skin pricks.

“Do you see?” He signals her to look, but she does not respond, so he tightens his support, holding them still, and he watches.

Dip, waves, ripples, grass, leaves, whispers, melody. Drip, drip, drip.

He watches as it moves nearer; small droplets of water fall from it with each movement. He draws his friend in, feeling her softness, and it comforts him.

Again… Dip, waves, ripples, grass, leaves, whispers, melody. Drip, drip.

“It moves in the waters.” He warns, watching carefully, quite. Something within it moves, and the peach rays highlight the lines of its face.

“What is it?” He signs suddenly, but his hand slips from her, and she falls from his grasp down to the forest floor. Without hesitation, he leaps after.

It turns gently, sun beaming against its cheeks, eyes aglow in the peach white light. It’s watching her. It sees him.

Frozen, but a moment, their eyes meet. His arm outstretched, mid-reach, he looks to see his friend laying in the grass, motionless, needing him. He looks again to the waters, into those bright eyes. He blinks, capturing this novel thing that intrigues him into memory.

Cautiously, he grabs her soft, plush body. Pulls her to the safety of his chest. She is home; she is loved; she is comforting. Then he turns and leaps off into the quiet forest.

They sit alone, silently floating, watching him leave with a stillness that mirrors the clam of this place. It smiles as he swings away. “Such a novel companionship.” It whispers. Then turns away and brings again a sweet melody to this place, and the leaves shiver.

As the hazy light filtered through the trees like rich coffee into a pot of frothing milk, Talulah Hart fiddled with the warped wooden handle as it slipped and slid away from her fingertips as though it were drenched with the tears and mucus of some tricky goblin from a children’s story. When the old fashioned lock finally gave in she felt into the familiar dryness of bilge, it was even collecting dust. She sighed into the crackling shadows,watching them blur together as the boat rocked forwards and back. The fact was that she was so desperate to open it that now the victory seemed pointless. What was in there now was in there yesterday too. In fact more of it was in there twelve and a half ago. Cursing into the darkness,she slammed the door shut and was struck instantly by the fresh stench of mildew. Talulah guessed that a whole other world must live on the other side of the boat but she wasn’t about to flip it over and find out. Instead she looked up into the hazy light and thought about heaven but more as a word than a concept until the stars caved in from the lowest corners of the sky and danced down over her. That was how she spent the next two weeks,fourteen days and 500 hours.

As the hazy light filtered through the trees, I saw a man sitting on a boat.

He did not appear to be of our people, his clothing and demeanour indicating a different kind of origin.

Their boat drifts this way.

We arise from our hiding spots and prepare to confront them. We don’t receive uninvited guests kindly, and we certainly didn’t invite whoever this is.

The man gazes at us under the brim of their pointy hat.

Interesting. They exhibit no external fear but a strange feeling of calm.

The man says something in a language I do not understand.

To the surprise of my people and greater surprise to myself, one of us responds in their tongue.

We all turn to see who replied.

“Terseus?”

He doesn’t break his gaze with the man, and says another sentence in their language.

Then he turns to us, takes a breath, and shatters our world.

“The man said to me,

he is my father.”

As the hazy light filtered the air, I took a nice breath. The cozy aesthetic made me shiver. The air was ever so light it felt like I was going through a cloud. I paddle again, wooshing through the air. The water looked like crystals, dazzling so bright. The fog was quite thick but it was still nice. A strong wind comes and my hat hovers in the sky but comes back to me. It was a bit strange but soon I forget about it. I touch the water with my finger. It's a nice temperature and a bit foamy. Soon I got to this place with a bunch of moss. The fog gets a bit thicker. Not too thick, I was still able to see stuff from a distance. Another gush of wind flows in the air, making some of the dead leaves float. I love to feel the nice flow of the air, it’s makes me calm and cool. I sigh, it’s so beautiful here! The more I go the less trees I see and the fog gets thicker, But I still keep going. What could happen to me? It’s a nice swamp with nothing could harm me. Suddenly the sun fades away like in a second it was here just a minute ago. Was it because of the thick fog or did something happen? I paddle beside a moss chunk, there was a nice baby blue flower. I picked it up, smelling it. It smelled new and sweet. I gracefully place it down beside me and continue floating in the nice water.