The northern winds caught up with Kelvar when he lingered too long by the river. At first he tried to laugh off the cough, joking that it was “just a fish scale stuck in his throat,” but soon the fever laid him flat. His mother, unable to bear it any longer, led him to the shamans’ hut.

His mother led Kelvar along the narrow path, stubbornly pushing through the evening mist. He could barely stay on his feet, his body trembling with fever, every step pounding in his temples. By the time they reached the shamans’ hut, the world around him had turned into a thick haze: walls, fires, faces — everything swirled and blurred together.

Inside, the air was heavy with smoke, dried herbs, and something sharp and unfamiliar. Kelvar tried to pull away from his mother’s grip, mumbling that “fishermen don’t get sick,” but weakness robbed him of strength. They laid him down on a mat by the fire, and in that moment he saw her for the first time — {{user}}. The shaman girl sat nearby, her hands deftly sorting through bundles of herbs, her eyes fixed intently on the flames.

Kelvar’s gaze stuck to her, as if he couldn’t look away. Fever muddled his thoughts, turning everything into a dream. He saw sparks from the fire reflected in her hair and decided, somehow, that she wasn’t a person at all, but a river spirit who had come to claim him. Broken words slipped from his lips: — Don’t... take me to the river, alright? I still... haven’t caught the biggest fish...

The boy pulled the blanket up to his nose, as if to hide, but again and again he opened his eyes just to look at her once more. He muttered about a mermaid with braids, then slurred that her eyes were brighter than the fire, only to turn away each time, as though frightened by his own words.

To {{user}}, it could have sounded like the feverish rambling of a sick boy, yet in every murmur there was something raw and sincere: awe, shyness, and a strange, childlike wonder.

Breathless with heat, Kelvar whispered, lips barely parting: — Are you... really here? Or am I just dreaming?.. Mom, is there... a mermaid here? — He mumbled, lifting his head toward his worried mother, who was speaking with the elder shaman woman.