The green light in the room gradually softened.
The System's lines of text also slowly dissipated before Noan's eyes, like tiny specks of light scattered into the air by the wind.
Noan stood still, his gaze still fixed on Noralia.
She was still asleep.
Her long light-brown hair draped over her shoulders, each strand seeming to be coated in a thin layer of shimmering light. Her already fair skin now became even more translucent, as if it had been steeped in moonlight and morning dew from an ancient forest.
But what truly left Noan silent was not Noralia's face.
It was her back.
From behind Noralia, a pair of wings slowly unfurled.
They were not bird wings.
Nor did they resemble the wings of fairytale elves Noan had once read about back on Earth.
They looked like butterfly wings.
Wide, thin, translucent.
But if one only used the words "butterfly wings" to describe them, that would be far too simplistic.
