[The Past — Levin's Childhood — The Riverbank — The Truth]
The sun had been warm that day, too warm and gentle for what it would witness. Ten-year-old Levin ran barefoot along the garden path, laughter still clinging faintly to his breath as he reached toward the tallest sunflower.
It resisted him.
For a moment.
Then—Snap.
He plucked it free, and then he plucked another. Holding both carefully, as though they were something fragile… something precious.
"One for Mother…" he murmured softly; a small smile touched his lips. "…and one for Aelira."
He looked down at them, pleased.
"They'll be happy."
With a wooden sword tucked beneath his arm, he turned toward the riverbank, steps light, unburdened, and unaware.
The closer he drew, the quieter it became. No laughter, no soft voice, and no warmth. Levin slowed, and then his smile faded.
There at the edge of the river, his mother stood rigid.
And before her—Aelira.
