Still Water Runs Deep Novels & Stories

​The Andromeda Slipstream didn't just carry the Unified Fleet across the parsecs; it acted as a sensory deprivation tank. Inside the Respiration’s living hull, the "Song of the Still-World"—the new verse gifted by the liberated Silent-Caste—vibrated like a cold, silver needle. It was a frequency of Persistence, a low-end hum that felt like the groaning of tectonic plates.

It sets your soul on fire and dares you to walk through the flames for it. I’ve walked through worse. And if a car makes her angry, if it reminds her that I still know the version of her who once begged me to test drive one down the coast…I’m fine with that. Anger means she still feels something. Silence is worse. I lie back on the bed and let the city hum around me. If she wants a clean slate, she can build it. But I’ll be the ghost in the foundation.

I can’t shake the feeling that Stanley’s already one step ahead that he knows I’ve heard the recording but if he thinks I’ll bury it again, he’s wrong. I park in an empty lot near the waterfront, the same place Elia used to go when she needed silence. She once told me, “Still water hides the deepest things.” Back then, I thought it was poetry. Now it sounds like prophecy. I play the recording again, through my car speakers this time. Her voice fills the space. “I’ll disappear forever.” “Not yet,” I whisper. “Not until they pay for this.” The sound of the waves blends with her plea, turning it into something almost sacred, a promise I have no choice but to keep.

The water glows faintly from within, silver-blue and still as glass. “The Still Waters Trial,” the Herald intones. “Each of you must cross the lake and reach the far shore. Simple enough.” Its grin is a thin slash of light. “But the water listens. It remembers. What it hears, it will use against you.” The words crawl across my skin. The water listens. My throat tightens as I think about what Silen and I said on its shores just the day before. “Those who reach the shore will advance,” it continues. “Those who do not… will belong to the depths.”

The Moonwell sat there, still and quiet, the surface of the water undisturbed, reflecting the faint light that filtered in from above in a soft, silver glow. There was no visible source, no stream feeding into it, no movement to suggest where it came from or where it went. It simply existed. Unchanging. Untouched. The air around it felt different, heavier, but not oppressive, something deeper, something that settled into the space and held it there. Silas slowed as he approached, his grip tightening slightly around Celeste as if instinct alone recognized that this place mattered, that whatever came next would decide everything.

Then, faintly, from the water’s surface, two reflections appeared—hand in hand, outlined in gold. The ripples whispered with each passing wave. Remember. Forget. Remember. And somewhere deep beneath that stillness, two heartbeats pulsed in perfect harmony.

The castle stood tall and majestic, its golden accents reflecting the light in a dazzling display. " Wait here," Merilla suddenly said. " I'm going to announce your arrival." She sprinted up the stairs, leaving me behind. Now, standing still, the exhaustion from walking through the night and the entire day consumed me, making my entire body feel numb. I scouted my surroundings and noticed a bench next to a waterfall in the garden. The soothing sound of water cascading from the fountain was inviting.

“But I think… I think this one fits us.” My fingers brushed gently against the shell's polished ridges, coaxing out the notes that echoed softly throughout the room. I chose the one I dubbed "First Bloom." It was a melody that signaled the shift in tides, the passage of storms, and the first appearance of color in the coral beds. It was about the changing seasons and new possibilities stirring in the depths.

and International, are announcing their corporations are being sold for two trillion dollars. July 19th, they'll celebrate the new owners in Deep Woods, Michigan. I rewind the program and stare at Tristan. He's not facing the camera, but I can spot him anywhere. Unable to move, I stare at his image on my screen. Snapping out of my trance, I cut off the television. Early the next day, I grab a coffee and a few items I need from the college and head to my client's home. We sit conversing for about forty minutes before I get very queasy. As soon as I enter her bathroom, I vomit.

we moved here when I had just gotten out of the hell I called my lovely marriage to give me a change in environment, it did help but I guess a change in scenery isn't what you need every time you're trying not to kill yourself. following the sound of impatient waves crashing against the bank, I sat down not caring if my white shirt will be ruined by moss and wet soil, the cool breeze brought a nice flush to my face as it brushed the few strands away from my face momentarily before they settled back down. I gazed at the free-flowing waves that reminded me of how strong and merciless they can be at times. The water was clear enough for me to see every rock that covered the bottom of it, every