On the night of spiritual counts, meteors fell from the sky, and in the blink of an eye, more than seventy years had passed.
Time hurried by, but for humans, apart from the more frequent abnormal twinkling of the sun and the increasingly common sight of falling stars, nothing much around Mount Othrys had changed.
The environment had not changed because it was influenced by the power of Mount of the Gods, where it was evergreen all year round, and the scenery remained as usual.
The humans had not changed, naturally, because that is just how the people of the Golden Age were. If not for that unexpected dream, perhaps they would have remained unchanged until the day they died.
However, in the monotonous flow of life, there was a little anomaly. The creature who had once been brought to the human tribe was gradually growing up.
