Love or Magic?

A single leaf spiraled down from an overhead branch, landing in front of her. She watched it lay there, a testament to the inevitability of change. With a gentle puff of breath, she sent it gliding away, a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"Change can be beautiful," she said to the empty glade, her voice barely louder than the rustling foliage around her.

The forest seemed to lean in closer, listening to the tale of a young mage coming into her own. Elara stood tall, her eyes alight with the reflection of past victories and the promise of those to come. The Whispering Woods held its breath, and for a moment, she was part of its ancient song—a melody of growth, of becoming.