The narrow corridor opened gradually, and Lira's eyes widened in surprise. After days spent navigating dark tunnels, echoing chambers, and treacherous passages, she now faced a space that radiated a calm so profound it nearly startled her. Before her stretched a cavern that seemed to exist outside time itself—a garden carved in stone, nurtured not by sunlight, but by the soft hum of Spirit energy.
The plants here were unlike any she had seen in the outside world. Their leaves shimmered faintly with a silvery iridescence, veins glimmering as though woven with threads of light. Some were tall and slender, like luminous reeds, swaying gently despite the absence of wind; others curled low to the ground, their petals almost translucent, pulsating with subtle color changes: misty blues, soft violets, pale greens, and gentle amber. Lira noticed that the glow was not constant; it ebbed and flowed, as though each plant carried its own heartbeat.
