Siran stepped carefully onto a long plait of roots that floated on the surface of the water. The bark was wet and slippery, so he walked barefoot, holding his sandals between his fingers. The roots snaked out across the middle of the lake, dividing the water surface into halves. On Siran’s left the water was a dark green, turning red when ripples from the movement of the root disturbed the calm. On his right, the colour was a murky tyrian.
All around the edges of the lake, tall black reeds curled upwards, twisting around each other, reaching over Siran’s head and hiding the horizon from view. Above this dark band shone a pink sky, blemished by occasional rose-coloured clouds. Siran paused every few steps to gaze upwards, before returning his attention to the placement of his feet upon the slippery root.
When he had taken thirty-or-so steps along the root a fluttering, fizzing sound echoed from the reeds to Siran’s right. He turned to see where the noise had come from. A point of bright white light zig-zagged between the reeds and then shot out over the surface of the lake, curling and spiralling through the air towards him. As it drew nearer he saw that it was a pair of seeds, linked by a fibrous strand, spinning around each other, drawn towards the far side of the lake by some unknown attractant. He watched their course through the air, drawing ever closer to where he balanced upon the root.
To be continued…