A few minutes passed and in the calm quiet, Dominic started to doze, his eyes starting to close as his head grew heavy. The illumination of the cavern was comforting after the comparative darkness of the passageways and mushroom grove outside. So he almost didn’t notice a figure on the water, but the moment it registered in his mind, his eyes snapped wide open before blinking hard. There was no mistaking it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t in the water, but truly on top of it. Walking. On two legs. Its form was very much human, but it seemed to almost glow with a red aura that distinctly contrasted from the blue luminescence of the cavern.

Dominic’s heart started to race as he watched it, sitting still as a statue so to not draw attention as the figure made its way across the water, moving towards the center. The distance was enough that he couldn’t see any features - until suddenly it wasn’t. It was almost as if the world shimmered for a moment before deciding to come into focus for him like he was right beside the male, for whatever it was, was certainly male featured, even if not any human man, as he pulled a bow from where it was strung across his back, shrugging off the accompanying quiver of arrows. Then he looked directly at Dominic.

The feeling that came over him was one he would never be able to explain as the face came into focus, a powerful mixture of the awe of seeing a herd of wild horses racing across a clear plain and the despair of watching a loved one grow old. A joy that made him feel as if he was light enough to float away and a grief so heavy that he felt as though he suddenly carried a mountain on his shoulders. Ancient and unknowable, the face stared with an intensity that scared Dominic, even though he knew without a doubt that this male wouldn’t harm him. The eyes had no iris or pupil, but were a solid bronze and shone with an unearthly internal light that seemed to pierce through the boy to view his heart, his soul. In those eyes, Dominic read a summoning. A challenge.

The male dropped the weapon into the water, which didn’t so much as ripple. Dominic blinked, and in the space of that briefest of moments, the figure vanished, and his vision returned to normal with a suddenness that made his head spin.

For the length of a thought, he wondered if he’d just hallucinated the vision, before his eyes found the bow and quiver again as they fell to the lake floor, visible between the silver flash of scales from the fish that still swam peacefully through the water. Visually measuring the distance out to the center of the lake, but quickly concluded that even if he had double the amount of line he did now, there was no way he’d be able to cast the fishing hook out that far, and even if he somehow managed it, who knows how many times it would take for him to actually hook the bow and quiver. He hesitated a few moments longer, sparing a look back at the tent where his friends lay sleeping. If Natalie knew what he was about to do, she would probably screech at him, he mused in silence. Looking back into the lake, though, he knew…

He knew that the bow was meant for him, and if he didn't take the risk, he would feel the loss for the rest of his life.

Quickly stripping to his shorts, Dominic paused for a moment, then reached for the fishing pole where it lay on the rocky shore. Before he could doubt himself, he reeled in the line, hooking it on itself before turning back to the water. With some hesitation, he stepped into the lake, and gasped sharply as he found to his shock that it was cold. Contrast to the comfortable cave, the water held a chill that penetrated deep enough that he swore he could feel it in his bones. At least the beach sloped, he thought to himself as he stepped deeper into the water, starting to shiver as it reached his knees. Maybe… maybe the slow descent into the chill would help to keep the shock of it at bay.

The water climbed to his waist and Dominic stopped, his breath coming quick and shallow. He was shivering uncontrollably, a dangerous sign, he knew. Tightly gripping the fishing pole, he inhaled deeply. Once. Twice. Then without giving himself time to hesitate or turn back, he threw himself into the water. The cold bite of it made him feel like his chest was caving in on itself and he only just avoided gasping and inhaling a lung full of water.

Swim. Start swimming. Start moving. His arms and legs seemed to fight him as he pushed forward through the water, one stroke at a time, each move feeling like it sent needles through his muscles. The bite of the cold drove all thought from his mind, save the mantra he repeated to himself. Don’t stop moving. Don’t stop moving.

Painful minutes passed as Dominic drove himself through the icy water before he reached the bow. Now he straightened, keeping his head held up, treading water as he released the fishing hook from its hold. His teeth chattered as he extended his arm and pressed the release on the pole. The weighted hook fell quickly through the water towards the bow. After a few seconds, the gasping boy started to sweep his arm back and forth, dragging the hook along the lake floor, until finally he felt weight catch on it. Bringing his other arm around, he held himself afloat with only his kicking legs as he reeled in the line, catching the bow in hand. His head dipped under the water as he pulled the bow over it to hook around his body, and his legs burned with the effort of pulling himself back up, the cavern filling with his desperate gasps. One more time…

He let the line drop back into the water, the hook plunging for the quiver now, and Dominic’s head tilted back as his body strained to keep his lips above the water, flailing the rod beneath him before the hook even touched the floor of the lake. It took longer, this time. He felt the hook skate over the fine leather several times before finally catching. Cold, stiff arms struggled to work the reel, while cramping legs desperately thrashed to keep his head afloat until the quiver was finally within reaching distance. Numb fingers refused to respond to his commands as he reached for it, leaving Dominic to instead hook an elbow through the strap.

Finally, gasping for breath, he laid back on the water to float, to give himself a chance to recover. But the cold… it continued to bite into his mind, his bones, reminding him that he had to move, he had to get back to shore… before he couldn’t anymore. Taking a moment to point himself in the right direction, still on his back, he started to push for shore, his breath wheezing in his lungs, as he finds it painful to even breathe in the chill.

Staring up at the distant glow of the cave ceiling with a singular focus, Dominic didn’t notice, at first, that with each stroke, warmth started to fill the lake around him. As he continued to push closer to the shore, the chill withdrew from his body, allowing his lungs to expand fully once again and his movements grew easier when the warmth eased the tension in his screaming muscles.

By the time his head scraped into the shore, the water was warm as a freshly poured bath, but still Dominic shivered uncontrollably as he turned to crawl back up to the fire pit, pure exhaustion making every movement an effort. It was all he could do, to reach the fire and curl up next to it, his arms locking around his hard won prize as he fell into a deep sleep, his task as sentry forgotten.