(Author's POV)
At the stroke of three, the prominent hour for the evils to rise, amid all that was happening in the outer world, all the plotting and chaos, Myra slept peacefully.
The comforting look on her face contrasted with the wrinkled, furrowed face she always made during a ghastly nightmare. And that was because she wasn't having one. Instead, she was having a rather pleasant dream.
In that dream, the place was brightly lit, filled with endless vibrant 'baby blue eyes' flowers, mirroring the skies above. Amidst the sea of nemophilas, a vast and majestic banyan tree was rooted.
The cool, subtle breeze that touched her skin was comforting and rejuvenating, scintillating, making her feel alive.
