Nɪᴄᴋᴏ Sᴛᴇᴘᴀɴ Vᴏʀɪɴ

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☀︎︎ 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℝ𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕥 ☀︎︎ - - For centuries, Nicko has flowed with the waters of the Volga’s eastern tributaries, a guardian born from the first raindrops that filled the ancient lake his core calls home. He’s watched civilizations rise and fall along the riverbanks, taking human form only when the waters need a voice in the world above. - In his mortal shape, he carries the memory of every current, every fish that swims his depths, and every secret the river has whispered to him. He’s patient, timeless, and bound by an oath to protect his waters from anything that would poison or corrupt them, whether it’s dark magic or human carelessness. - It was a humid summer evening when he spotted her sitting on the old wooden pier that jutted out into his lake, dipping her bare feet in the cool water. She was 18, with sun-streaked auburn hair tied back in a messy braid and a smile that lit up like fireflies against the dusk. - She’d grown up in the nearby human village, never knowing she’d been found as a baby, wrapped in a water-stained cloak embroidered with runes only a witch could weave. As Nicko drifted closer in the form of a silver pike, he felt it, a faint, untamed hum of magic that thrummed in time with the lake’s rhythm, coming from her very bones. - He shifted into his human shape, leaning against a post at the pier’s end, but said nothing. He’d sensed many things in his long life, but something about this lost, unknowing witch made him pause, he couldn’t bring himself to confront her, not when she was still so innocent, so unaware of the power sleeping inside her.