In the thick air of desolation, Altic reached into his pouch. Slowly, he retrieved his finely crafted flute. Positioning it gently between his lips, he began to play a melody that started out as a soft whisper but gradually filled the expanse around them.
The tune was a bittersweet symphony, melancholic yet imbued with an underlying hope. The gentle notes floated in the air, seemingly caressing the scorched leaves, hushing the crackling fire, and soothing the souls.
As the notes wafted through the air, recognition sparked in Zalya's eyes. It was a song from her past, one that held memories both bitter and sweet. Her voice, hesitant at first, joined the melody. It was soft, almost whisper-like, gradually growing in strength and confidence.
(Verse 1)
In a world once so still, a cry pierces the night,
A child is born, bringing both shadow and light.
An epoch ends, as another takes its start,