"Back then," Ria began, her gaze drifting into the shadowed depths of the treeline, "House Mork wasn't a laughingstock. Lord Fran was an honored imperial commander, and Lady Viky was the gentlest, warmest woman in the entire Northern Province. Flinn and Linn... they were inseparable. Identical in face, but completely opposite in spirit. Flinn was the wild, rebellious rogue even as a child, while Linn was quiet, studious, and possessed an extraordinary sensitivity to the natural flow of aether."
She let out a soft, bittersweet laugh that quickly withered into the cold wind.
"I spent almost every day here with them. This log... this exact clearing was our secret sanctuary. Lady Viky would bring us fresh warm pastries, sitting right where I am sitting now, watching us weave simple aether sparks into flying butterflies."
Ria's voice trembled, her hands clenching into tight fists against her dress as she looked out into the silent, shadowed treeline.
