Layla's expression gradually changed as she looked at the small pixie hovering beside her. The playful smile she had carried throughout the conversation disappeared, replaced by something quieter. She raised a hand, and the scenery around them began to shift. The grand hall faded into darkness before another image slowly formed around them, almost like they were standing inside a memory.
It was a home.
A simple one.
Nothing extravagant adorned the room. There were wooden walls, modest furniture, and a small dining table where a family had gathered for a meal. The food itself was humble, yet the atmosphere was warm. Several people sat around the table, laughing and talking as they ate, completely unaware that their ordinary evening would become one of the last peaceful moments they would ever have together.
A younger Layla sat among them.
She was only a teenager then.
