The tunnel after the bridge sloped upward for a while, then dipped down again, twisting like the inside of a sleeping snake.
Kayal walked slowly, one hand brushing the wall.
Stone. Cold. Damp.
Her footsteps echoed softly.
Tok… tok… tok…
But underneath that sound, something else grew louder.
A long, steady hush.
Like wind.
Like breathing.
Like whispering.
Water.
She turned the corner and stopped.
A river cut across the cavern from wall to wall.
Wide. Silent. Silver-blue.
It glowed faintly, as if moonlight had melted into it.
The surface looked smooth and calm, but the current underneath moved fast — too fast. She could see shadows racing below like dark fish.
On the opposite side stood another stone archway.
Another gate.
Another “only way forward.”
Kayal sighed.
“No bridge. Of course.”
She walked left along the bank.
Nothing.
Right.
Nothing.
Just endless water.
The river seemed to stretch forever.
As if the world had been sliced in two.
Her notebook warmed in her hands.
She didn’t complain anymore.
She simply opened it.
Ink spread across the page.
First riddle.
I have a bed but never sleep,
I have banks but no money to keep.
I carry boats and fish that swim,
and mountains bow when I grow grim.
What am I?
Kayal smiled instantly.
“Bed… banks… boats… fish…”
She laughed softly.
“That one’s easy. A river.”
The page flashed gold.
At once—
The water bubbled.
Then from beneath the surface, round flat stones slowly rose.
One after another.
Forming a narrow stepping path across.
They wobbled slightly, but they were solid.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
She stepped onto the first stone.
Cold water lapped around her shoes.
Second stone.
Third.
The river hummed softly.
Like it was thinking.
Halfway across—
The sound changed.
Not water anymore.
Voices.
Soft.
Familiar.
“Kayal…”
She froze.
Her grandmother’s voice.
Clear as day.
“Kayal, come back… don’t go too far…”
Her chest tightened.
Then another voice.
Her childhood friend.
Her teacher.
Her neighbor.
All calling her name.
From the water.
Her heart raced.
“No… no… this is a trick…”
The surface shimmered.
And suddenly her reflection wasn’t hers.
She saw herself as a child.
Five years old.
Running in the rain.
Another image.
Learning to ride a bicycle.
Another.
Crying after losing a race.
Memories.
Floating in the water.
Then—
One memory blurred.
Faded.
Gone.
Like someone had erased it.
She blinked.
She couldn’t remember what it had been.
Cold fear crawled up her spine.
“Steal but never touch…” she whispered.
The river wasn’t stealing things.
It was stealing memories.
If she stayed too long…
Would she forget everything?
Her name?
Her family?
Who she was?
The notebook burned hotter.
Second riddle appeared.
I keep your yesterdays safe inside,
birthdays, faces, tears you cried.
If I fade, your past turns gray,
and you forget your own way.
What am I?
Kayal didn’t hesitate.
“My memory.”
The page glowed bright.
The whispers softened.
The reflections steadied.
The river calmed slightly, like it had been soothed.
She stepped faster from stone to stone.
“Nice try,” she muttered. “You’re not taking anything from me.”
Only a few steps left.
Then—
SPLASH.
The last stones sank suddenly.
Gone.
She nearly slipped.
“No!”
The water surged higher, swirling around her ankles.
The current tugged hard.
Trying to pull her in.
The notebook grew almost too hot to hold.
Final riddle.
I am spoken before you speak,
written before you write.
I am the thread that ties you
to yesterday’s light.
Lose me once,
and even your shadow forgets you.
What am I?
Kayal’s breathing slowed.
Spoken before you speak…
Written before you write…
Thread tying you to everything…
Without it…
You’re no one.
She pressed her palm to her chest.
“My name,” she whispered.
The word felt strong.
Certain.
Real.
The moment she said it—
The river split.
Right down the middle.
Water pulled apart like curtains.
Revealing a narrow stone walkway beneath.
Solid.
Dry.
Safe.
Kayal stared.
“Okay… that’s actually cool,” she breathed.
She ran across quickly before it changed its mind.
The second she reached the other side—
WHOOSH.
The water crashed back together behind her.
Like a door slamming shut.
Silence returned.
The notebook glowed softly.
New words formed.
Third Gate Crossed.
Four remain.
She exhaled.
Only four more.
Only.
She laughed nervously at that thought.
Then something caught her eye.
Footprints.
In the damp sand.
Small.
Fresh.
Not hers.
The same ones she had seen near the bridge.
Someone else had crossed this river.
Someone her size.
Recently.
Her pulse quickened.
“Who are you…?” she whispered.
Ahead, another tunnel sloped upward.
Warm golden light flickered at the end.
And faintly—
Very faintly—
She heard humming again.
Closer this time.
Like whoever it was… wasn’t far away at all.
Kayal tightened her backpack straps.
Closed the notebook.
And followed the light.
Behind her, the river flowed quietly.
As if trying very hard to remember her name.
Review Riddle Roads – Story 4 – The River That Stole Names.