The mist cleared, revealing the circle of light around the peculiar trees. Lalin and Emma froze as their eyes met the serene figure of the silver-haired girl—Allia.
"Hello… my name is Allia," she said softly, yet her words echoed through their hearts.
"I've been waiting for you… so long that every forgotten memory has returned."
The wind stirred, painting faint images in their minds. Lalin saw the tragic history of Allia's people, hunted and nearly erased. Emma felt the deep-rooted pain embedded in her own bloodline. Allia watched them with eyes tinged with sorrow. "And I know… every burden and every pain you've carried all this time."
The two girls clasped each other's hands tightly, their hearts beating as one. They were no longer ordinary girls—they were descendants of ancient bloodlines, brought together by fate to confront and atone for the past.
"Everything you face is not merely a trial of the Mists," Allia said, tears glistening on her cheeks, "but a trial of our hearts, and of the history of our people."
Lalin and Emma exchanged a look filled with understanding and courage. This time, they were ready—to step into the Three Mists, carrying both the weight of the past and the hope to reshape their destiny.