Evan wandered through the sun-dappled meadow, his notebook clutched tightly in his hand. The whispers of folklore had brought him here, to this sprawling haven of golden wildflowers and towering, ancient trees. Most people had dismissed his claims that nymphs still graced the earth with their presence, but he refused to believe the magic of the old stories had truly faded.

The late afternoon light painted the landscape in hues of amber and emerald, the warm breeze carrying the scent of blooming jasmine. Evan found a shaded spot beneath a willow tree, its cascading branches swaying gently as though alive with their own rhythm. He let out a soft sigh, flipping open his notebook and running his fingers over the pages filled with his sketches and scribbled notes.

Just as he began to lose himself in the melody of the meadow, a soft rustling caught his attention. He looked up, his breath hitching as a figure emerged from the shimmering foliage.

You were radiant, your presence almost unreal. Sunlight danced across your skin, which glowed with a faint, golden shimmer, and your hair seemed to ripple like liquid amber. You moved with an effortless grace, your laughter—a sound like bells chiming in the wind—reaching him beforewords.