The Sanctuary of The First Farmer.
In a secluded corner of this vast agricultural domain, far from the war, there existed a singular plot of land.
It was isolated, wrapped in curtain-like auroras of green and gold that shimmered with concentrated power.
The farm plot itself was perfect.
The soil was dark and rich, crumbling just right, shining with deep verdant-gold luster. It looked vibrant with potential, as if something impossible had just been planted within its depths.
Standing at the edge was The First Farmer.
He no longer looked frail or dying, or dead when his daughter last burried him. He stood tall, his skin marked with green glyphs, his golden eyes burning with steady light.
He gazed at the soil with certainty.
Sitting on the soft earth nearby was Elyndra.
She wore a verdant-gold dress, her aura pulsing with controlled power. She ran her fingers through the dirt, feeling the thrumming vibration of life beneath.
