THE TYRANT : UNVEIL THE MOON

The first sensation was cold, followed by the soft, almost musical, shivering of stems. I shifted, a shiver running through me as I realized I was lying on the snow-dusted ground, clad only in a thin, plain white dress. My long, platinum-white hair trailed around me, disappearing into the white.

Pushing myself up, I found myself in a field of pristine white lilies, their heads bowed as if in anticipation. My eyes, as white as the moon, drifted upwards, meeting the gaze of the full moon hanging in the sky. Its surface held a faint, wolf-like silhouette. Had it always been like that? I didn't know. I knew nothing.

Then, the crunch of snow broke the silence. An elderly woman, her face etched with wrinkles but her eyes warm, approached. "Oh, lá..." she murmured, her voice thick with an accent I didn't recognize. "Dear? Are you okay?"

I could only shake my head, no. My feet, bare and exposed to the biting cold, already throbbed. She beckoned me forward, her voice a gentle warning, "Make sure not to crush the lilies. Come quickly. You're going to get frostbite!"

Carefully, I navigated the sacred field, my heart inexplicably aching at the thought of harming a single delicate bloom. The elderly woman, who introduced herself as Eil, ushered me into a nearby cabin, its warmth a sudden, overwhelming comfort against the bitter cold.