(Arthur Leywin)
The bustling city of Xyrus fell under the cloak of twilight as the radiant beams of the sun slowly waned, succumbing to the inevitable embrace of the night.
As the fading light of day relinquished its hold over the sky, the city's streets and alleyways were cast into a dim and murky realm, illuminated only by the flickering and dancing flames of the city's street lamps.
These small beacons of light were like faithful sentinels, standing guard over the city's inhabitants as they scurried about their daily business, navigating through the winding maze of Xyrus' streets with practiced ease.
Despite their meager size, these lamps possessed a power that belied their humble stature, illuminating the darkness and instilling a sense of security and comfort in the hearts of all who beheld them.
And so, as the last remnants of daylight faded into the ether, Xyrus was enveloped in a cocoon of light and shadow, a place where the magic and mystery of the night brewed in an alluring alchemy of wonder and worry.
The city exuded an air of tranquility, its streets winding like a river of polished stone through the heart of this metropolis.
Yet, beneath the surface of this placid exterior lay an undercurrent of unease, a tension that spoke to the looming specter of war that threatened to engulf the whole continent.
In the future, even as the forces of conflict would converge on the battlefield, this city, this floating oasis of hope and sanctuary, will remain resolute in its commitment to peace.
It will stand as a beacon of light in the darkness, a bastion of safety amid the chaos and carnage that would soon ravage both the continents.
For the citizens of this city, the coming storm would not bring with it the same fury and devastation that it would visit upon other lands.
Here, in this haven of security and solace, the people will come to realization that they can take refuge from the tempests of war and find shelter from the storms of strife.
"Righto, time to meet my parents," I muttered to meself, the soft susurrus of the breeze lending a gentle lilt to my words.
The crisp, cool air of the evening danced around me, tickling my cheeks with a playful caress.
With a sense of purpose, I set off down the path, my footsteps echoing on the cobblestones with a satisfying click-clack.
The rustle of leaves overhead accompanied me as I made my way towards the Helstea Manor, nestled amongst the verdant foliage of the city.
As I drew closer, my heart quickened marginally with anticipation, eager to see the familiar faces of my kin. The scent of blooming flowers and fresh earth wafted on the wind, suffusing me with a sense of nostalgia and belonging.
And so, with each step, I drew nearer to the haven of my childhood, a place where the memories of youth still lingered, and where the love and warmth of family awaited me.
However, this wasn't what I needed to focus right now.
For a fleeting moment, I entertained the notion of divulging my true nature as a reincarnate to my parents.
However, such a course of action would prove imprudent, for it had the potential to irrevocably alter the trajectory of events to come.
If Alice and Reynolds discovered that their beloved son was, in fact, a being of thirty years encased in the guise of their offspring's skin, they would doubtless hasten to offer their services in the looming war without a second thought.
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
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