The time is approaching

This is an imaginary name (Elyndor).

Elyndor, was a world unlike anything in the realm of humans. Every element of this land shimmered with an ethereal glow.

The sky, bathed in golden light, was unbound by the concepts of day and night—it remained in a perpetual state of gentle radiance, as if reflecting the essence of an ancient power.

The trees here did not bear mere green leaves; they pulsed with a soft luminescence. The lakes, deep and sapphire-like, rippled with golden waves whenever the wind caressed them, as if the waters themselves were alive.

The very ground beneath one's feet emanated a strange warmth, as though it recognized every visitor who stepped upon it.

At the heart of this enchanted world stood "Solmira Palace", the most magnificent structure in all of Elyndor.

Its towering walls shimmered as though they had been sculpted from pure energy, reaching toward the heavens. From its grand balconies, one could gaze upon the vast expanse of this mystical land. It was not merely built from stone—it was woven from power itself.

Deep within the palace lay The Celestial Hall.

Its ceiling was so high it seemed to merge with the stars. Crystals embedded in its walls radiated their own light, illuminating the space with a brilliance that needed no torches.

The floor was not of ordinary stone but of pure, concentrated energy, glowing softly beneath every step.

And at the very heart of this hall stood a throne, a symbol not just of authority, but of wisdom, of secrets long kept.

Seated upon this throne was a regal woman.

Her presence was so commanding that the entire chamber seemed to revolve around her.

She was adorned in a gown that flowed like liquid gold, not woven from fabric, but from energy itself—a living current of power that enveloped her in an almost celestial glow. Her eyes were deep, like an ancient ocean, holding within them the wisdom of countless ages.

She was not merely a ruler. She was the very essence of Elyndor.

And standing before her was Eira.

Eira was composed, yet there was an unspoken question in her gaze. Her attire, like the world around her, was woven from shimmering light, delicate yet powerful.

But there was something different about her, something that set her apart from the rest of this realm.

For a moment, silence stretched between them, deep and unbroken.

Then, the woman offered a faint, knowing smile and said, "The time is approaching."

Her voice was neither loud nor soft, yet it resonated with an undeniable force, echoing through the chamber.

Eira inhaled deeply. Her fingers tensed slightly, but her expression remained unreadable.

"I know," she replied. A pause.

Then, as if weighing her next words carefully, she added, "And I also know that you chose Leon, not me."

A subtle shift in the chamber's energy.

The woman's expression did not waver, but the light within the hall grew just a fraction brighter. Eira sensed that this was no mere coincidence—it was a response. A sign.

But its meaning was still beyond her grasp.

After a lingering glance at the throne, Eira finally turned.

Without another word, she walked toward the doors, her steps measured, deliberate.

As she crossed the threshold, her shadow flickered upon the walls, lingering for just a moment, before slowly fading away, as if she had never been there at all.

A profound silence settled over the hall.

Then, the woman raised her fingers ever so slightly.

And in that instant, the chamber's light intensified, glowing with an almost divine brilliance.

Beyond the palace walls, the sky trembled ever so slightly. Something was changing.

Then, the woman slowly rose from her throne. There was something mesmerizing about her movements—not too fast, not too slow, yet every step carried an undeniable power, an unspoken authority.

She walked toward the tall window at the edge of the chamber, her presence commanding yet effortlessly graceful.

Beyond the glass, the world of Elyndor stretched in all its breathtaking splendor. Below lay the golden city, its streets gleaming under an eternal glow.

Floating islands drifted in the sky, shimmering with an otherworldly light, while waves of pure energy rippled across the distant horizon. It was a realm that felt like a dream woven into reality.

But her gaze was not fixed on this magnificent view.

She was looking at something else.

Her eyes, deep and unfathomable like an ancient ocean, held centuries of stories within them—tales of power, of loss, of secrets buried beyond time.

Anyone who dared to look into them for too long might find themselves lost in their depths.

Yet in this moment, those eyes were searching.

For what, only she knew.

For a few silent moments, she stood there, the faint breeze brushing against her flowing garments, making them ripple like liquid light.

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she spoke, "Change is near."

Though her words were soft, the very air around her trembled as if responding to an unspoken command. It was not merely a statement.

It was a prophecy.

Beyond the window, the sky dimmed ever so slightly, its golden light wavering for the briefest of moments.

As if the world itself could feel the shift that was coming.

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