Whispers of the First Light

As the first morning of a new month unfolds, a soft magic lingers in the air. In a quiet glade surrounded by tall, ancient trees, a Nordthra woman walks barefoot through the mist. Her fingers brush gently over wildflowers that bloom in impossible colors. A faint shimmer follows her steps, as if the land responds to her presence. Above her, light filters through the canopy like silent blessings. She is not searching — she is remembering. The world breathes with her, and the unseen sings.