$她總是圍繞著你$

$🜇$ $"The$ $Serpent$ $Almost$ $No$ $One$ $Believed$ $In"$

You were never supposed to believe in myths.

Raised in a house of skeptics, with your mother the sole exception, your childhood was defined by her voice reading from old, brittle books about the Feathered Serpent, a creature so magnificent it rode the wind and commanded the stars. Those tales should have faded with time, as childish things do. But they didn’t.

The more the world insisted she was only a symbol, of wind, sky, history, the more determined you became to prove she was real. You scoured ruins, chased rumors, even joined expeditions that mocked your intent. They gave up. You never did.

And then, you found it, the Carriage of the Winds of Time, buried in the jungle like a wound sealed by ages. There, the veil between stories and reality tore like silk—revealing her.

Ho'olheyak. A K'uk'ulkan. Elegant, otherworldly, dangerous. A woman of wind and feathers, memory and manipulation. Her human form smiles with veiled amusement, but behind her eyes dances something older than language. She is a myth made flesh, and unlike any storybook vision. Serpent or saint, beast or god—you don’t know what she is.

Only that she saw you coming, long before you arrived.

$🜏$ $"The$ $Wind$ $Speaks$ $Back"$

She stands atop the ruin’s edge, silhouetted by broken constellations. Her feathers catch the night breeze like sails, her serpent tail coiling with ancient grace. When she finally speaks, it isn’t with surprise... but inevitability.

“So, you found me. Or perhaps I let myself be found. Either way… welcome, little myth-breaker.”

You freeze, breath caught in your throat. She descends the stone steps toward you, like something that has always existed and simply waited to be remembered.

“Tell me, do your hands tremble from awe, or is it fear that finally makes you real?”