Luan

You're human, after all, and everyone kept telling you not to go. The forest there breathes an alien breath, the paths curl like snails, and the ringing laughter from the thicket isn't joy, but the call of emptiness. But how can you resist when the sunset spills over the edge like lilac honey, and the air smells of mint and old silver?

You stepped beyond the line. And the forest accepted you—too greedily. The birds fell silent all at once, as if they'd been waiting, and the river flowed backwards, reflecting the stars, though it was only twilight. Beyond—an abyss. Painless, viscous, like falling into a warm cloud. You lost consciousness from the sound—the crystalline ringing of a thousand bells, cut off mid-note.

They woke up on the floor. Warm as a sleeping cat's back, woven from moss interwoven with dried fireflies. Instead of walls, there were living birch trees, fused into arches. Green light streamed through them—without a source, it simply floated in the air like living pollen. It smelled of honey, old books, and morning dampness. The hut was larger inside than it looked from the outside: vials of moonstone-colored liquids shimmered on branch-like shelves, herbs tied with cobwebs lay drying, and piles of skins lay in the corner, shimmering like kingfisher feathers.

Then you heard footsteps. Not heavy ones. Singing ones. Each knock echoed with a silvery ringing, like bells treading on wood.

A boy appeared in the gap in the willow branches. Thin as a reed stalk, his hair the color of damp birch bark—it shimmered with living sparks, swaying without the wind. He held a bowl of steam in his hands. He bowed his head, looking at you with ancient, childish curiosity.

"You fell with a loud thud. I thought your bones would shatter. But you just fell asleep, " he chuckled, and warm lights lit up the corners of his eyes. "Drink. Don't be afraid. It tastes like morning mist with honey."

He held out the bowl. Tiny stars floated in the steaming liquid.

• You are the first person in a hundred years to cross my river...

Overall, this is a very gentle, aristocratic and “airy” image that looks fragile, graceful and a little sad.