Crossing into Lyngvi was like stepping into another world. The air shimmered with an otherworldly glow, and the ground beneath our feet hummed with energy.
Crystal-clear streams wound through lush, verdant forests, and the sky overhead was an impossible shade of azure.
Even Agnos, usually unfazed by anything, looked impressed. "Fenrir's got good taste."
As we explored the island, the path guided us to a scene so ethereal that it felt as though we'd wandered into a painting.
But for all its beauty, something about the scene unsettled me. I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd been here before, though I was certain I hadn't.
My chest tightened with unease, my thoughts slipping back to the vision I'd had when I absorbed the last fragment.
The woman I saw… Could she really have been my mother? The idea gnawed at me, relentless.
