“If it glimmers, beware the shine of the lake deep.” A monster, they called it, eyes reflecting serendipity. Skin illuminating the lake surface. Tears that held the secret of sacrafice. Phrase of description: they never spoke of whence it came. Why is that where it chose to reside? Deep in the mouth of a cavern with the stalagmites dripping endlessly into the phreatic lake. Alone and glimmering with no spectators to admire. Only whispers of fatal desires the screams of those discovering the bounds of their arrogance. 

At fourteen years of age, Nymara lived among two of her siblings. An older sister and younger brother, parents having departed for the life thereafter. They made do, raised by the village, until they could fend for themselves.

Nymara was the most curious and intelligent of the three. Her sister was maternal, taking care of her and their brother, who spent most of his time with the baker, learning the art of making pastries and bread.

In her curiosity, Nymara ventured deep into the maw of a cave system that she’d been charting for months. Carefully, she mapped her way through, cautious of her every step and lack of light. Sometimes, the cave spoke, the chitter of creatures invisible in the darkness. Such creatures oddly didn’t shudder even as she felt their presence and continued.

There was a time she found the small lake at the bottom of the system, water droplets slowly plummeting into the endless bowl. Not knowing how deep it went, curious Nymara took a dip. She swam in this liquid darkness, using her acute sense of touch to navigate an underwater passage. Even as her lungs began to ache, she pressed on, seeing a glow of light. Then she reached it, illumination in the tangible form of algae. A beautiful blue glow that distracted her from her human need to breathe. Not long enough, as she broke the lake's surface, she didn’t take long to resubmerge in repetition, scraping the algae and planting it on the lakeside.

Soon, she’d spent hours and hours removing the clumps, enamored by the beauty. 
It wasn’t long before she piled enough that it began to shine amongst the lake's cavern. The glimmer caught her eye then. Like a torch in the fog, a reflection of the light comes back from a crack in the cave wall—the glimmer.

They had run out of time together, her and the cave system, and she knew she’d get to return at first light because the day was soon over, that much she could feel; however, it was her sister who had come to her first. Some time into the journey back, she heard an echo from further in, the shout of a familiar worried tone. To the backdrop of the moonlight on the outside of the cave mouth, Nymara ran, finding the glimmering honey-colored eyes of her sister even in the night.

“Let's hurry home, Nymara. Your soup has long since gone cold.” As promised, when they arrived, it was cold, but she drank it all the while, almost too curious to sleep. Yet hours in the water sapped her energy like nothing else, and she slept the night and early morning away.
It took her minutes to dress and eat, and she rushed back to the system of twisting stone corridors to satiate her curiosity. Her mental map guided her into the depths until the glow slain the tendrils of darkness came into clear view.

Grabbing a rock, she bashed it against the wall until it crumbled away just enough for her to discover the source of what was to be found. Gold. The shine of gold which she had never seen. Glimmering, gorgeous gold. Snatching a handful, clutched in her grip, the girl ran, sprinting through the caverns only she could traverse. When the wind howled through the entrance, and the sunlight battled the shadows she left behind, she arrived home, the coins leaving an imprint in her sweating palm.
Her sister's mouth was agape, not just because of the coin's shine but because standing in their home was a local guardswoman, tattered clothes of Nymara's brother's tunic bloodied in her grip as a friend of his tended the wounded—reckless behavior for a baker's apprentice. Yet even the scene before her did nothing to distract them all, even the injured young boy, from the coins in her hand.

It took hours before questions were whispered and rumors spread. Days before, many came to find Nymara, who spent most of her time hiding away in the very caves that had seen their windfall. The coin did them well; they had fresh bread and pork for the first time in a period longer than she’d want to recall. Yet, that blessing cursed her state, as everyone who had ever helped them now expected repayment—repayment with interest at a rate not even a devil would decide.

Two coins she’d brought of the hundreds in the wall. She had yet to return to the glimmer, afraid to be cursed even more.

It took a week before her sister asked her if Shed had been found anymore. She couldn’t lie to those glimmering eyes and answered in truth, telling of the treasure hidden in the cavernous depths. That night, someone must've been listening. By morning, ten had gone missing, their footsteps leading in the depths.

Nymara knew better than the gods that traversing the system with no prior knowledge meant death. She was careful and perfect in every step she took. She crept amongst creatures that could turn men to tatters with a breath. No others could replicate her curiosity.

“ITS YOUR FAULT MY DAUGHTER’S DEAD!” Someone had run her down on the outskirts of the village, a man grabbing a young girl by the collar and threatening violence. In fear for her sister's safety, Nymara's sister claimed she could bring more from the caves; after all her curiosity never led her astray.

She ran from the man, traversed her second home, and found the glimmer in the depths. She took two coins. The man seemed pleased, not with the gold, but with the fact that all it cost him was his kin. His daughter.

He wasn’t the last. She had a younger brother and older sister, people she cared for, and the village had turned its intent on them. She lost count of how many handfuls she escaped the depths with at once, how many eyes leered on the money as if they had earned it themselves.
She barely slept, hardly ate, they’d hurt them or worse if she stopped. She would not falter as long as she could control it.

Yet as she collapses by the side of the lake, unable to move her body from drifting into the depths, she slips in without a sound. If a young woman drowns due to the greed of others, but none see her go, should they feel shame?

"Breathe, Nymara." A voice spoke like that of rushing waves breaking against the shore. Nymara had never been to the ocean, so the feeling of familiarity was both foreign and comforting. New. "breathe." it said again, yet she wanted to protest, even as she was barely conscious of impending doom. "Breathe, Nymara." Again it spoke as if it was so easy to just inhale-

It was. She was breathing—sinking—but breathing in the liquid. She felt something there with her, holding her up so she could rest beneath the water's surface. She slept so peacefully that time froze in this timeless place, and she only awoke when voices came.

"Nymara?" Rising to the water's surface, swimming like she'd been born to, she rested against the edge of the surface, the glow of the algae having spread around the lake as moss. Trekking into her second home was a familiar set of glimmering eyes but an older face attached to them. Her sister, Avina, strolled to the lake's edge, a hand resting against Nymara's face.

Her touch was cold and fleeting. An apology spilled from her lips, but Nymara couldn't speak to tell her it was okay to communicate that it wasn't her fault. Instead, she swam to the other edge, motioning to the wall, where Avina peeled away a layer of moss. The glimmer reflecting the light of the moss bounced off the woman's glimmering gaze. Nymara could only nod to communicate, so Avina took the gifts and left. Nymara went back to sleep, slumbering in the lake's depths, waiting again for someone to approach the water's edge and speak her name.