The little elf hunkered down in the cradle of branches near the surface of the water, ignoring her parents angrily calling her name as they shifted through the higher trees. They would never look for her down here; all elves knew better than to be near the water’s surface.

She plucked a tiny twig from its place on the tree, twirling it between her fingers as she looked up through the branches in yet another attempt to look past the ever-present clouds. They say that the clouds part every few years, and you can see the stars when they do.

She snorted, looking down at the black waters. They also said monsters dwelled underneath the surface, creatures capable of sucking out your soul. ‘They’ blamed it on the disappeared elf colony, vanished when the waters rose above the ground in the same event that propelled the rest of them to live in the trees.

Reaching down to touch the water with her fingertips, she shivered in delight at the cold, slick feeling. ‘They’ didn’t know anything.

The water was nothing to be feared. The wind in the trees whispered, shaking the leaves far above and freeing a few to drift down. They littered the sky, falling through the air and landing delicately on the surface. She leaned over and watched them slide lazily by, smiling at her reflection.

Reaching out, her hands went into the water to scoop up a traitorous leaf.

She recoiled when she realized her reflection hadn’t moved. It grinned up at her instead, an icy face growing larger as it came closer.

Something broke the water’s edge, black stringy hair coming into view above a set of vacant, glowing eyes. She scrambled against the tree, but the eyes paralyzed her. Made it impossible for her to run as the thing creeped closer. The water hardly moved as an arm came up, slithered towards her ankle. She was trapped, frozen as the hand wrapped around her foot and began to drag her forward.

She could feel her heart pounding. Wanted to cry, wanted to scream. Wanted to do anything that would free her from her stiff muscles. But the eyes held her, the faint glow drawing her in as her feet slipped under. Words began to whisper on the trees, reassuring her that everything was fine. Brushing away her frears, her doubts. Easing her into relaxation as the water rose up around her hips, the creature’s hands reaching for her shoulders.

Something broke the water a stone’s throw from where they were. The creature stopped, head turning. Looking behind it with a low gurgling rumble.

Another water-creature broke the surface. The monster hissed, darting under the surface and splashing as it escaped.

The elf could breathe again, scrambling to get back up into the trees. She didn’t turn back to watch the other creature. She didn’t see the other creature swim to the tree and hang a small vial around the branches, a small piece of green and white stone clinking within. She didn’t see the second ‘creature’ slip back under the surface in pursuit of the first monster, didn’t know that wherever the monster was, the monster hunter was not far behind.

She didn’t know of the world below, and had no desire to know. She didn’t stop running until she was back in her parent’s arms, crying and panicking the whole way home.

The little elf knew only one thing; she was never going back to the surface. Never.