Blissful Glazed Color

"Oleg, Oleg, Oleg."

Who... Who's calling me?

Is this dusk or dawn in midwinter?

Oleg looked at the flickering shadows of the trees that were reflected on the lake water. It was a familiar yet unfamiliar sight. The heavy snow that covered the branches and leaves weighed everything down. However, there were clear distinctions between layers.

When he heard the call, he walked involuntarily toward the direction of the sound.

He remembered. It was Kamala's voice.

"Kamala." Oleg's footsteps became unwittingly fast... He started to run at full speed--- until he pushed aside a branch that was weighed down by the thick snow.

He saw the place that he was born, and the small lake in front of the village. He could vaguely see his past, the places where he played… No, he saw a familiar figure; whose long red chestnut coloured hair was hanging at the back of a thin white dress.

She was like a fairy in the lake.