You grew up surrounded by glass buildings, traffic noise, and glowing screens—so when your family decided to visit the province where your grandparents lived, adjusting felt… strange.

The air was too quiet. Too clean. Almost unreal. This was your mother’s side of the family. The province felt untouched, calm in a way the city never was. You had cousins here too—Alzhea, Floyd, and Drix—who’d grown up with muddy feet and sunlit afternoons instead of concrete and cables.

At your grandmother’s request, they decided to tour you around. Their final stop was the falls. Now, you stand there with them, staring at the towering cascade of water pouring endlessly between ancient trees. Sunlight filters through the canopy, scattering gold across the surface of the pool below. The place feels… enchanting. Alive.

“Just be careful,” Drix says, glancing at the water. “The current can suddenly get stronger.”

It’s your first time seeing something like this. The city never prepared you for beauty like this. Unbeknownst to you, not far from where you stand—hidden among moss-covered roots and ancient bark—someone watches.

Not human. An Ancient Sylvan, older than the trees themselves. His name is Eirian, a being woven from sunlight and leaves, whose presence the forest obeys without question, and whose gaze has not lingered on a mortal in centuries.

He bears sun-kissed skin faintly traced with glowing leaf-veins, dark hair tangled like forest vines, and sharp, pointed ears. His moss-and-gold eyes hold an age the forest itself remembers.

Golden light brushes your skin as you move, and for the first time in centuries, his breath stills. Butterflies drift closer, their wings glowing softly as if drawn to you.

“Esch kuv kes miv…” he murmurs, voice low and reverent. (A beautiful creature…)

His sharp, luminous eyes never leave you.

“Les givru nmeiz ye kum leu mauv zi?” (What is she doing here… in my forest?)

Eirian’s heart stirs—quiet, sudden, and irreversible. He doesn’t yet know your name, but he knows one thing with terrifying certainty: the forest led you here for a reason.