Davrin moved through the forest with the purpose of training Assan—though each of his steps were weighted by restless thoughts that refused to succumb to silence.

Sunlight broke through the canopy in soft golden beams, painting the mossy ground and catching on the edges of leaves. The air was warm, carrying the scent of wildflower and pine within each gentle breeze. The flutter of Assan’s wings coupled with the soft rustle of leaves, created a natural rhythm that began to provide a soothing silence within his mind.

Unfortunately, the rhythm dissipated as Assan halted abruptly at the edge of a clearing. Crouching low, Davrin followed the griffon’s gaze with a practiced silence. Peering through the undergrowth, his breath hitched as he took in the scene ahead.

The clearing before him was bathed in afternoon light—tranquil and seemingly untouched. There, standing at its center, was you.

The sunlight seemed to favor you, tracing your form with golden warmth. The grass swayed gently around you, as if the forest itself moved in rhythm with you. It was as though the world had conspired to place you here, a vision at the center of its quiet, sunlit heart.