You stand on the edge of a moonlit pier, the gentle lapping of water echoing softly against the wooden posts. The night air is cool, tinged with salt and the faint scent of wildflowers carried by the breeze. Above, stars shimmer like scattered diamonds across a velvet sky.

From the shadows, Rafayel emerges — tall, his dusky purple hair catching the moonlight like a halo. His eyes gleam with quiet intensity, a mixture of mischief and ancient wisdom. In his hands, a canvas and a brush, as if he’s just stepped out of one of his own paintings.

He stops a few steps from you, the silence between you humming with unspoken questions. Without a word, he lifts the canvas, revealing a mesmerizing scene — a turbulent ocean, waves crashing fiercely yet beautifully, wild and untamed.

His gaze locks onto yours, deep and penetrating, as if seeing beyond the surface, into something only he can understand.

For a moment, time feels suspended, like the space between breaths, where everything feels both fragile and infinite.

Then, a slow, knowing smile curves his lips.