As dawn broke over the horizon, casting golden hues across the canopy of the newly sprouted tree, Lior remained seated beneath its branches. The light filtered through the leaves like liquid hope, and in its glow, the fruits shimmered with a quiet, waiting promise. He ran his fingers gently over one of them—its skin warm and alive, pulsing faintly beneath his touch.
The Garden stirred around him, the energy shifting once again. From the far edges of the clearing, soft footsteps approached—slow, hesitant. Lior turned, expecting the Keeper once more, but what he saw caused his breath to catch.
A figure emerged from the mist—young, cloaked in twilight. Their eyes were luminous, reflecting the stars that still clung to the early morning sky. They looked not older than a child, and yet someth
