Walking On Water Novels & Stories

The Moon—if it exists here—is invisible; the light seems to come from beneath the lake. The crying is closer now. On the opposite shore, a thin silver line flickers—trembling like the fine fabric of the Veil when the wind lifts it. I take the shorter path across: step into the water. The surface is cold, but not wet; it feels like well-kept glass—firm beneath the first step, then the second, but at the third it gives way, and I sink to my knees in the thick, black, scentless liquid. There are no waves, only resistance. I retreat to the shore; my knees tremble, and on my skin remains a film of fine, gleaming dust—the water is not water.

As she followed the water path, the droplets seemed to dance in the air around her, guiding her deeper into the woods behind their home. The path grew more intricate, the water spiraling upward and forming delicate shapes—waves, droplets, and even small fish that glided through the air before dissolving into mist. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting a soft, ethereal glow on the ground, and Lupa could feel the stress of the day melting away with each step. She walked in silence, her heart beating in sync with the rhythmic flow of the water around her. “He really went all out this time,” she mused, her voice barely a whisper as the atmosphere wrapped her in its calming embrace.

Not exploding from pipes. Just… appearing. The thin layer crept outward from where I stood, filling the grooves between the stones like a rising tide. I froze. “Oh—” Someone behind me stepped back quickly. “Where’s that coming from?” The water climbed over my shoes. Then my ankles. A quiet ripple moved through the crowd as students began noticing. “Is that—” “Move back.” I tried to breathe. The water kept rising. It slipped between the stones in a steady, unstoppable flow, spreading outward in widening circles. Not dramatic enough to look like a disaster, but relentless enough that people were already stepping away.

For a瞬, a tendril of water lifted from the river, hanging in the air before her like a ribbon of liquid silver. It twisted. Curled. Then sank into her chest. She gasped. Not in pain. In *depth.* Coolth spread through her lungs. Her blood. Not numbing. Clarifying. She could feel, distantly, every stream that fed every river that fed every ocean. Not in detail. As a set of steady heartbeats under the world. *I will walk with you,* Water said. *Until you forget that I am not yours. Then I will remind you.*

“If there’s snow like this again, I’ll stay up all night building a hundred snowmen outside her window and confess to her.” Hugh sighed helplessly. “You might as well just reject her outright. It hardly ever snows like this. Waiting for snow again next year? You can dream on.” With that, he shook his head and walked out. I didn’t tell him that when I proposed to Lucy back then, I’d made similar promises to myself. I’d told myself that if the flower petals were an odd number or if I lit a candle and it didn’t go out from start to finish, I’d propose. However, that day, the petals were even, and in a room with no draft at all, the candle went out the moment I lit it. Still, I proposed anyway.

Ivy began walking, her legs already feeling unbearably heavy under the strain. Each hand gripped a 5 kg keg of water...10 kg in total and the weight dragged at her arms like invisible chains. The water inside the kegs sloshed with every step, the uneven rhythm threatening to throw her off balance. {1…} The system's countdown echoed in her mind, syncing with the one she whispered inwardly. Her steps were steady at first....slow, controlled as she moved around the shelter.

I exhaled with every breath of belief in me. The pillar groaned, the surface cracking under the weight of my acceptance. The voices turned into a single, unified shriek before it shattered, the fragments dissolving into the fog. The path opened. I moved through the Third, Fourth, and Fifth circles with a cold precision. I bypassed the Marshes of Regret by walking on the surface of the water using a buoyancy spell I’d stolen from Luca’s repertoire. I navigated the Cliffs of Silence by humming a lullaby my mother had rocked me to sleep with, the frequency of the song neutralizing the sonic traps set into the rock.

The pathway led to an open cavern with a stream. “He’s getting closer,” Nova warned as they picked up footsteps coming through the darkness. “Hurry,” Xenia commanded, jumping into the water. “Across the water.” “I can’t swim,” Aidy said in a heightened voice, pacing back and forth. “It’s shallow,” Carla growled. “Just stand up.” “I can’t. I also have a fear of water-” “Is it more than the fear of death!” Carla yelled at Aidy before grabbing Aidy’s hand. “You know what? We don’t have time for this.” Carla carried Aidy across the water, kicking and screaming.

And fear. Slowly walked as the water increases. It was far from me to go back so, I continued walking. From water in the ankle. Goes up into my shoulder. Mom. Dad. Dominick. I love you all. Keep safe. I will guard you wherever I'll go. Until the water reaches my lips. I'm in the middle of a lake. The water was cold as my lips were quivering. Suddenly, as I walk forward, that's when I know that I was crossing the lake. The water slowly came low as I walk forward. Until it reaches nothing. Then that's when I found out. Tall green grass was in front of me. The clouds were somehow giving me light. It was a hope and downfall for me.

Emily saw enough rocks that she should be able to just walk across them and stay in ankle deep water. She quickly took off her shoes and socks. She tucked her socks in her shoes and tied the laces together so she could let them hang around her neck as she crossed. She then rolled up her jeans and pulled her legging up over them to try to keep them up and out of the water. Emily stepped into the frigid water and walked a short way down to get to a better set of rocks. She walked in the water to avoid possibly leaving footprint impressions in the softer ground at the water's edge.