At some point—though I can’t pinpoint when it began—I felt as if my body was floating on the surface of calm water, my eyes closed, savoring the beauty of the silence. I didn’t want to part with that sensation, but the memory of the harrowing experience in the forest shook me, forcing my eyelids and body upright in a panic.

  To my great joy, the fireflies and the lake remained where they were. The darkness no longer shrouded everything. The sound of the water brought peace to my troubled soul and weary body. But wait a moment—my body no longer felt exhausted. I glanced at the wounds that had pained me before closing my eyes, unwrapped the makeshift bandages from my torn shirt, and to my surprise, nothing was there. Blood, wounds and fatigue had all vanished.

  Suddenly, a noise sounded behind me. Instinctively, I leapt to my feet, stepping into the lake. Behind me, lying on the ground, was a deer—but not an ordinary one. It was twice the size, its coat a soft golden hue, and its antlers, symmetrical on both sides, formed a crown above its head. Its eyes glowed silver, yet they had a natural shape, unlike the wolf’s.

  It watched me for a while, then turned to survey the rest of the forest. I didn’t concern it; I posed no interest to it. I lowered my guard and approached slowly. It moved then, rising, which made me step back again. But it still ignored me. It neared the water and began drinking, creating no ripples or disturbances on the surface. The fireflies, as if responding to a call, darkened the rest of the lake and encircled the deer—some resting on it, others hopping joyfully around it.

  Then, its antlers shot out in various directions into the forest, growing like tree roots and spreading with alarming speed. From them dripped the multicolored drops, illuminating the darkness and misery of the forest like a gift. And the fireflies began to glow brighter, nearly blinding me.

  From my side, I could do nothing but watch in awe at the spectacle before me. Speechless, I sat by the lake, emptying my mind of all fear and doubt. I no longer felt danger. I thought briefly of the wolf—how he might be, if he still lived, if he was injured, or if it had fled to save itself. Even if he wished me harm, it had kept its word, risking his own life. I doubted I’d ever do the same. A tear of self-pity rolled down my cheek.

  I revisited the excuse I recycled in my mind: “I have no other way to succeed; I’m weak, I don’t want to die.” It didn’t cheer me up or satisfy me now. For the wolf, I felt nothing less than respect and admiration. Amid this place’s ugliness, he acted as a counterbalance, though he too seemed corrupted—perhaps he did not always looked like this, but he transfigured. Yet he strove to preserve a spark of its former life, his better self.

  When the deer finished drinking, it lifted its head, and its antlers retracted to their original position. It paid me no mind again. The fireflies scattered over the lake, brighter than before, while the deer slowly and beautifully vanished into the forest’s darkness. I lingered a bit longer, marveling at the beautiful scenery. I didn’t want to leave, nor return to the forest, the road, or even myself.

  As I turned my head, I saw the lake didn’t end but curved, continuing somewhere out of sight. Rather than sitting idle, I decided to rise and follow the shoreline. I wasn’t eager to discover what lay ahead, but even a clue leading to the castle would be welcome. I walked on, grabbing a fruit from a tree near the lake. I moved barefoot, shirtless, in my tattered pants—barely covering my shame. I had discarded my socks too.

  Rounding the bend, to my surprise, I saw an island with torches burning and signs of human activity. I thought I saw someone playing with a dog, though it wasn’t clear. Nothing was distinct, but the island in the lake seemed inhabited by people. Houses and boats were visible. I tried to approach along the shore, but the island wasn’t close, though it appeared large, suggesting the lake was even vaster.

  The moon, however, was nowhere to be seen, and despite the lake’s grandeur, its reflection didn’t grace the water. I sat to observe, and soon saw people on the island launching about ten boats to fish. I decided to signal for help, hoping they’d be friendly, so I began shouting and waving my arms:

  “Hey, over here, help, please, help me!”

  I didn’t know if they’d see me as kin or foe, but I’d taken riskier chances, so I dared this too. They responded quickly. One boat broke from the group and headed towards me. I stopped signaling and waited to see what would happen. As it neared, I could better discern the faces aboard—three people: two men and a woman. The older man had graying hair, the other two, younger, had red hair.

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  “Hey, what are you doing on this side of the forest?” they called from the boat before reaching me. “People never roam here, only monsters. How did you end up so deep?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “A wolf and a deer brought me here. I don’t know where I am or who you are. I just want food and rest. Please, I beg you, help me—I can’t take it anymore.”

  I didn’t speak more until they reached the shore. I waded into the water and climbed aboard with their help.

  “Come, sit in the corner,” the young man said.

  They covered me with a blanket, and the woman offered a warm drink—tea, something I hadn’t tasted in ages. I burned my tongue trying a sip.

  “We need to keep fishing,” the middle-aged man said, “but once we’re done, we’ll help you find a place to rest. You look exhausted.”

  I nodded gratefully and sat quietly until they finished and we all returned to the island. Upon landing, they led me to a house—apparently the older man’s—fed me, gave me a room, and provided clothes to rest. They said that once I was ready, I’d speak with the island’s leaders before the entire community to explain who I was and what was happening. They noted no one from the mainland had ever appeared in their history—only people left the island, never returning.

  I didn’t say more, just nodded and exaggerated my exhaustion. Alone in the room, I changed and lay on the bed. Ah, how long had it been since I’d lain on a proper bed, a soft mattress with a feathery pillow? It felt like the world’s greatest treasure, and soon sleep took me.

  Knock, knock—I heard the door and a gentle female voice saying: “Are you awake? We have food at the table.”

  I waited before responding. I rose slowly, sat on the bed’s edge, and answered: “Yes, I’m awake. I’ll be down soon.”

  She didn’t reply. I heard her footsteps retreat down the stairs.

  After a while, I descended. At the table sat the three who’d brought me—eating a normal breakfast with forks and knives on plates. Those plates reminded me of the ones the wolf gave the girl when she entered the forest, as did the cutlery.

  “Good morning,” the middle-aged man said cheerfully. “Come, join us. After we finish, we’ll all go to the island’s assembly. No one’s ever come from the forest—never, I tell you. Everyone will want to see you, and they’ll bombard you with questions. Come, sit, don’t be shy. But where are my manners? I haven’t even told you my name.”

  He rose awkwardly, wiping his hands on a nearby towel, then extended his right hand: “I’m Petros, and these two are my children. My son Stas and my daughter Kalli. Sit, sit. Honestly, I have many questions too, but I’ll hold off until you speak at the assembly. We’ve called them to the central square in about an hour. Best not to go out until then. I’ve never seen so many people outside this house.”

  I think he was happy—or at least filled with curiosity and excitement. His children seemed a bit wary, avoiding speech, watching my every move. I sat beside the boy, who offered me water. I glanced around and saw an irrigation system, modern technology—refrigerator, oven, lamps. The house, though, was wooden, two stories, relatively small.

  Petros kept talking without expecting a response, asking no questions. He spoke of his home and yesterday’s fishing, explaining techniques, tools, wait times, the types of fish caught, and how each was cooked. His monologue overwhelmed me with details, but I think it helped me calm down. Before I knew it, the hour passed, and Petros told me to get ready. He gave me clothes and a jacket, and we left.

  Outside, children hid behind walls and trees or commented from a distance, their eyes following me sideways. We stepped onto the road, and older people approached, asking questions. Petros and Stas shielded me, while Kalli followed with friends, smiling and likely discussing me in excitement. The crowd grew, blocking my view of the surroundings—only the houses were visible, built of stone and wood, reminiscent of Icelandic homes: welcoming from the outside, inviting you in to relax, family-oriented, cozy.

  The noise swelled, and before I realized, we reached the island’s central square, where most residents waited. They’d formed a wide circle around the square, and in the center sat eight men, each with a different symbol on their clothing—various animals, each in a distinct color. One I recognized immediately: a red robe with a wolf howling at the sky. The man wearing it couldn’t have been over thirty—muscular but worn, his beard and attire unkempt compared to the others.

  He invited me to sit in a chair at the center, alone, as if on trial, then ordered silence. He rose and shouted: “Ring the bell and don’t stop until the wolf comes from the forest to speak with us. Summon him to the island.”

  His remark caused a stir among the residents. I heard them murmur with concern, wondering if the situation was serious enough for such a move.

  A bell began tolling slowly and loudly. Seconds later, there he was—the wolf emerged from the forest. The bell kept ringing. It howled at the sky, walked through the river toward the island. The crowd, nearly terrified, parted to make way. Upon reaching the square, the wolf bowed to the council of eight, lowering its body until its head touched the ground. It looked at me with its large eyes, then turned to the council and asked:

  “Who is this? He has a different smell from all the others.”