The lake's surface was calm. A lonely, wounded boy floated face up in the water, gazing at the sky.
His body was illuminated by what seemed to be the only light for miles around.
Seconds passed. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours.
The scene in this quiet place remained unchanged.
It seemed as if it could go on like this until the end of time, and nothing would seem strange if it did.
The boy stared at the light. The light existed only for him.
But then, unexpectedly, the boy's pupils changed slightly, and his lips whispered in a barely audible voice,
"That's what you saw, right...?"
It was unclear if he was addressing someone. Perhaps he was just talking to himself.
"Now I see..." The boy whispered in the same barely audible voice.
"But... I still don't understand."
Why did you see it in me?"
"..."
The world was silent, but the boy wasn't waiting for an answer.
He continued to stare at the light.
Second by second, minute by minute, hour by hour.
This continued until the light began to fade and the gap in the clouds closed, perhaps forever.
The boy watched as the light disappeared. Before it finally left him, he said in a slightly louder voice,
"I really don't know why you saw it in me... But it doesn't matter."
The boy twitched a little and said with more confidence,
"Even if I don't understand, and even if I never understand... I promise I'll try to become the person you always saw in me... That's my wish."
Finally, when the last rays of light disappeared, the boy began trying to swim to shore, moving awkwardly on his back.
After much difficulty, he finally made it to shore, set his feet on the ground, and caught his breath. Then, without turning around, he raised his head and glanced at everything in his field of vision as if he wanted to meet the gaze of the whole world. He stopped and changed his expression to a determined one. Whispering softly, his voice cold, he said,
"But first... I don't know how long it will take or what it will require... But that doesn't matter. I won't stop.
"So please wait for me, hero."
"I'll tell you a "Joke" that will make your stomach burst... You can be sure of that."
With these words, the boy took a step forward and kept going.
...
On the day, the town of Weimar saw the light for the last time,
Clara woke up full of energy and anticipation.
Today was a very important day for her—Elion's birthday.
She had spent the last few months preparing for this day, and now her preparations were finally complete, and the fateful moment had arrived.
She had been preparing for so long, but not because she was choosing outfits or anything like that. She had chosen an interesting gift: a book. But not just any book—one that she had written herself. She wanted the book to be perfect, so she rewrote it four times. She would have liked to rewrite it a fifth time, but there wasn't enough time. Because of this, she blamed herself for not starting to prepare the gift six months earlier.
The book was a fairly typical story about a heroic figure who overcomes obstacles and faces monsters to rescue a princess. Clara came up with all the monsters herself and approached each stage of the creative process with great care. Initially, she wanted to name the princess after herself, but she was too shy to do so. For the protagonist's personality, she chose Elion's, but ten years older. However, she did not mention his name in the story.
Overall, it was a well-developed story, albeit typical, which the boy would definitely like.
In reality, however, the content was only of secondary importance. The main thing were two sentences written on the last page of the book.
Clara rewrote these words several hundred, perhaps even a thousand, times.
She would lie awake at night thinking about the best way to express them.
She started with dozens of pages of text, constantly changing the content and crossing things out at the slightest hint of doubt. She started over and over again. But she couldn't express everything in words alone.
Clara poured water into a vase holding a colorful bouquet and smiled sweetly at the decorated stone lying nearby. She picked up the book.
She opened the beautiful, dark cover of the book, but immediately turned to the end without looking at the contents.
The dark-haired girl stared silently at the two sentences with her equally dark eyes.
Memories of the day she first met Elion came to mind immediately.