Zafron stepped outside the temple, the crisp air of limbo carrying a surreal calm. It was always quiet here—too quiet. He scanned the courtyard, his eyes landing on Aurelia, who stood under the pale sky. She was scooping shimmering gold paint from a small bowl and carefully pouring it over a strange, thorned plant.
At first glance, the plant seemed like an odd combination of a rose bush and metal sculpture—its twisted branches glittered like polished gold, yet they pulsed faintly, as if alive.
Zafron sauntered over and stopped beside her, crossing his arms. "What the hell are you doing?"
Aurelia didn't even flinch. Her sharp, typically aloof demeanor stayed intact as she replied matter-of-factly, "Feeding my plants."
He squinted at the strange scene, watching how the gold liquid seeped into the roots and made the entire plant glow faintly. "That's food? Doesn't look like water to me."
