A blonde woman in a white dress leans against a large willow tree by a glowing river in a lush, green meadow; digital art.

The morning light appeared lavishly through the damp green grass, draping the meadow in gold. Magnolia walked barefoot through the wet grass, each blade bending under her steps like a whispered greeting. For the first time in months, she had escaped the loud hum of the village, chatter of markets, clang of metal, the nonstop occurrence of human voices. Out here, beyond the caged stone walls and smoke, the air breathed for itself. The river spoke to her as if she could understand every flowing stream. Magnolia found her place beneath the great willow that grew beside the river. Its long green covers provided shade as sunlight peaked between the leaves. Magnolia sat, leaning her head against the bark, and felt the slow, patient pulse moving through the tree, almost representing her own, however it was not the wild heartbeat of people but something calmer, wiser. She rested her eyes and listened to the river’s song, the faint hum of birds, and her own quiet breathing blending with it all. Hours passed seamlessly before Magnolia opened her eyes. The world, she thought, did not need to be conquered or named to be understood. It only needed to be seen. As she rose up from the safety of her willow, she turned her vision in line toward the village, right before getting stopped by a sudden falling flower. Its soft and angelic descent called out to her, allowing for the careful observation of its large white petals. Quickly grabbing the flower, she inhaled its ambrosial fragrance, See more