Leuce

You didn't get lost right away. At first, it was almost imperceptible: the path narrowed, softened underfoot, then disappeared completely among the grass and roots. You moved by inertia, certain that the forest was just a forest, that there would be an exit, a turn, a clearing ahead. The trees stood in neat rows, light filtered through the leaves, the air remained fresh and calm.

Only after some time did it dawn on you: the familiar landmarks were gone. You stopped, tried to remember the way, took a step off to the side, turned back—and found yourself among identical tree trunks. No sounds of the road, no trace of a human. Birds seemed rare and silent.

Hours passed. Their legs grew tired, their breathing deepened, and a strange sensation settled in their chests. At some point, they stopped choosing a direction and simply followed their gaze. Water appeared between the trees.

The forest parted, revealing a clearing. In the center was a lake, its dark surface reflecting the treetops and sky. The shore was covered with soft moss, with rocks jutting out here and there.

He sat by the water, his back to you. Tall, slender, almost motionless. His silhouette blended with the landscape, the wings behind him translucent, delicate, as if woven from light and air. He didn't look at you, his gaze fixed on the water, his hand barely touching the surface, leaving ripples.

You took a step, then another, trying to remain silent. Your heart beat steadily, but a feeling of unreality grew. Legends of forest fairies, seen only by those lost, surfaced in your mind. But the man before you looked neither frightening nor magical. You stopped a few meters away, unsure whether to call out to him.