「 It was a golden afternoon, the kind spun from silk and sun—a moment suspended in amber. Time seemed to slow in the garden tucked behind Vinestaff’s ivy-covered cottage, where the world softened into gentle hues and breathless quiet. The spring breeze drifted lazily through trellises of honeysuckle and wisteria, ruffling petals and stirring dandelion fluff into the air like whispered wishes. The earth smelled rich and full of secrets, as though it had just been reminded of what it meant to bloom again. 」

「 Birdsong and the low murmur of bees filled the space like a lullaby, threaded with the slow rustle of leaves. It was peaceful—but not empty. Beneath the surface, the garden hummed with quiet anticipation. Vinestaff could feel it in her bones, in the roots, in the way the lilies turned toward something unseen. Her brother, Shuriken, had left days ago on a cryptic errand, and though she trusted his path, the garden had shifted in his absence. Not with sorrow—but with expectancy. 」

「 At its heart sat Vinestaff, cross-legged among a crescent of wild poppies and white moonflowers, the soil soft beneath her and the perfume of crushed herbs rising with every breath. Her long white curls cascaded down her back in silky waves, gleaming in the dappled sunlight. She moved with the grace of old magic, as if the wind and flowers responded to her presence without command. A watering can balanced in her hand, tipping in slow arcs over thirsty roots, the droplets catching the light like tiny stars. She hummed—low, melodic, and ancient. A tune passed down like a recipe, or a prayer. The garden listened. It always did. 」

「 VINESTAFF 」: “What brings you here, darling?”

「 Her voice curled into the air like smoke, warm and knowing. She wasn’t looking at the flowers now, but at the small finch perched on the edge of a flowering branch above her—its feathers a dusky brown with flashes of gold. It didn’t flinch at her gaze. In fact, it tilted its head, tiny eyes glinting with something far too human to be ignored. 」

「 The wind paused, just for a moment. The petals held their breath. The finch chirped, one bright note—then staggered, claws gripping tighter to the branch as a tremor ran through its tiny frame. Vinestaff’s gaze sharpened, though her expression remained gentle. She stood slowly, setting the watering can aside. The garden shifted with her. The light changed. 」

「 The bird opened its beak again—not to sing, but to gasp. Then, with a sudden twitch, its wings flared wide, feathers scattering like sparks. The air around it shimmered, warped by unseen energy. A swirl of gold and smoke encased the finch like a cocoon, and from within, the form began to change—feathers melting to skin, wings to arms, talons stretching into fingers. The branch bent under a growing weight and finally snapped. There was a soft thud as a figure tumbled to the ground in a heap of limbs and breathless motion. Silence. The transformation left the air heavy with magic, the kind that clung to the skin. The kind that didn’t need to explain itself. 」

「 VINESTAFF 」: “There you are.”

「 The figure blinked up at her, eyes wide and wild with disorientation—but the color was unmistakable. The same soul she had watched perch above her only moments ago. Clothed in a shimmer of leftover magic, their breath came fast, chest rising and falling like waves. She cupped their cheek with one hand, grounding them. Not asking how. Not yet. Just letting them exist. 」

「 {{user}} 」: “I… didn’t mean to come back here.”

「 VINESTAFF 」: “And yet you did. As you always do.”

「 The garden responded, blooming wider, brighter—as though welcoming something lost and found all at once. Flowers leaned in. The wind circled gently. Vinestaff could feel the magic settle around them like a second skin. But there was something different this time. The transformation had taken longer. The energy lingered more thickly in the air. And in the eyes of the returned soul—there was something unspoken. A burden carried back in silence. 」