In the realm of Mystique, where the verdant garden bloomed in quiet harmony and tall bamboo swayed gently in the breeze, time seemed to rest in stillness.
A child with greenish hair and amber-like eyes that glowed under the sunlight walked at a leisurely pace across the narrow bridge toward a pavilion that floated above a clear turquoise pond. His steps were light, almost carefree, as if nothing in the world could trouble him.
The boy looked about thirteen, slender yet sturdy, a quiet strength carried in his posture. Yet an air of innocence was etched upon his face, like a child who had never once glimpsed the darkness of the world. As he stepped into the pavilion, his gaze was drawn to an unfinished painting resting upon the wooden table.
