The sun had just shifted into its golden sheen, bathing the world below in a soft, radiant glow. Its warmth didn't scorch—it highlighted. Every curve of the land, every tree and stream, now shimmered as if touched by something divine. The sky was clear, the light gentle, and the world underneath seemed to exhale in peace.
Adyr didn't rush.
He soared high above, wings steady, cutting through the air with silent grace. Below him, the world stretched out like a painted canvas—serene and untouched.
He passed over dense forests stitched together from a variety of greens, each tree unique in shape and hue. Between them, a clear stream twisted like a silver thread, reflecting the sky's golden palette. Beyond that, the horizon rose into towering mountains, their snow-capped peaks catching the light like polished marble. The white at the summits glowed cold and clean, a quiet promise of biting temperatures above.
