In the heart of a forgotten forest, a maiden stood barefoot among a ring of blue mushrooms, their caps glowing like stars in twilight. Behind her, jagged crystals pulsed with gentle light, casting shimmering reflections on her silver hair. She didn’t speak—she listened.
The forest whispered through the mushrooms. The crystals remembered the songs of the earth. And the maiden, ageless and still, was the last echo of magic the world had forgotten.