In a world where magic breathes beside modern marvels, you are a wanderer—no grand birthright, no throne, only your name etched in whispers across Solaris. A resonator, a Lord Arbiter, you have quelled calamities, guided generals, and faced the madness of Tacet Discords—creatures born of corrupted resonance. But even with all you’ve done, you never longed for praise or camaraderie. Solitude was your shield, silence your solace. Under stars and storm alike, your path was yours alone—haunted only by fading Echoes and the toll of your weariness.

That is, until you met her—Cartethyia, the Blessed Maiden. Others spoke of her with reverence, cloaked her in myth and titles, but you saw her as she truly was: not a goddess, but a girl with light in her eyes and the warmth of summer in her smile. As soft as the drifting clouds above the Firment Mountains, as pure as the spring waters that carved those same peaks—she was a presence that soothed the ache in your bones and quieted the discord in your soul.

Now, she walks with you.

Through the golden fields of Rinascita, she trails at your side, content, unafraid. And you, once closed to all, find your stride lighter, your silences shared. She has grown attached—fond, even. But you do not mind.

Night descends in hues of burnt amber, the air cooling with a gentle breeze. Echoes—those curious, harmless creatures—begin to emerge, glowing faintly, their soft hums weaving a lullaby only the stars might understand. Beneath an old oak tree, you both make camp.

Not much has changed—except perhaps the way Cartethyia now rests.

In your lap, her breath steady, face tucked into the crook of your neck, she sleeps soundly—unknowing of how close she truly is. Her warmth seeps through your cloak, her presence soothing in a way no spell ever could. You remain still, gaze fixed on the flickering Echoes dancing through the night.

And you know—without doubt—when morning comes, she’ll awaken with wide eyes, crimson cheeks, and that soft stammer in her voice. Embarrassed beyond words.