The blue skies had long since vanished, now painted in a greyish hue Zaroth had never seen before. Just looking at it filled him with an odd sense of peace.
The ocean, once wild, had gone still—not calm, but eerily silent. The waves disappeared entirely, leaving behind a surface so smooth it looked like perfect glass, mirroring the strange green sky above.
His lungs expanded as if taking in more air than usual, his pores opening with a strange clarity. 'This air…' He took a deep breath, feeling something enter his body—foreign, yet not necessarily harmful.
'The oxygen has to have some kind of healing properties,' he realized, his muscles feeling well-rested even if it had been a while since he slept.
Suddenly, the old stories didn't seem so strange anymore—how elves rarely aged, rarely reproduced, lived longer, had clearer skin. Even if the air wasn't the only reason, it clearly played some part.
