Spirit Realm
The Spirit Realm pulsed with quiet energy, its glowing rivers casting soft light across the forest of luminous spires. The air hummed, alive with whispers of souls and the faint crackle of unseen power. The ground beneath was warm, soft like moss but glowing faintly, as if the earth itself was breathing.
Ruka sat on a low ridge overlooking the water, his flames dim but flickering at his fingertips, dancing like they had a mind of their own. His dark hair fell loose over his shoulders, and his eyes—sharp, amber, alive—watched the horizon where the light bent and twisted into shapes no mortal could name. He wasn't tense, but there was a weight to him tonight, a heaviness that hadn't been there before.
