[ADE IN: A LUSH, SUN-DRENCHED HILLSIDE]

The screen blooms into color. A soft breeze rolls over emerald grass that dances like silk under the golden morning sun. The wind whistles through tall lavender flowers and crystal-leafed trees, scattering glowing pollen into the air like tiny fairies.

In the shade of a mighty tree with twisting roots and silver bark, a young elf girl lies sprawled in the grass.

She hums softly, matching the birdsong above — a melody almost as old as the forest itself.

[CAMERA ZOOMS IN]

We finally see her face. Lyria. Maybe 8 or 9 years old, with short white hair that flickers in the sunlight like moonlight through snow. Her bright emerald eyes shimmer with wonder, and her tiny pointed ears twitch at every sound.

“Lyyyyriaaaa…”

A voice, far off. Gentle. Familiar.

She blinks, her ear giving a soft flick.

“Lyyyriaaa~!”

She sits up slowly, rubbing one eye.

“Huh…?”

And then —

LYRIA!!”

The voice now loud and laughing.

“YES, YES, Mama! I’m coming!”

She scrambles up, brushing grass off her dress made of stitched flower petals and soft vines.

[SCENE TRANSITION: COZY FOREST HOUSE]

We pan to a beautiful wooden home, nestled into the side of a hill, like it was grown rather than built. Ivy coils around its curved edges, and tiny spirit lights drift lazily near the door.

Inside, we see Lyria’s mother — an elf woman with long brown hair, tied back, and sharp black eyes full of love and exhaustion. She stirs a pot over a gentle fire, wooden ladles floating around her with small glowing runes. She turns, holding a wooden bowl full of colorful fruit salad.

Eat up, sweetheart. Mama’s got a full day ahead.”

Lyria nods and takes her spot at the low table.

[SLOW ZOOM ON Lyria’s FACE]

She lifts a spoon of glowing fruit, bites it, and—
Her eyes flutter shut like she’s tasting heaven.

Munch... munch...

Soft chewing sounds. Time… slows…

[2 minutes pass...]
...munch...munch...
Her head tilts.

[5 minutes pass...]
She’s still eating. Like a sleepy squirrel.
...munch...muuunch...

The screen slowly zooms closer to her tiny mouth.

Munch...

...Munch...

Her eyes droop. Her ears droop. Then…

YAWN. A huge, lazy, happy yawn.

Suddenly —
DING-DING! The front bell jingles.

“I’m back~!”

A deep male voice calls out from outside.
Lyria’s ears perk up. Eyes light up. She bolts to the door.

“PAPA!!”

She throws it open, and we see a tall elf man standing in the sun, wiping sweat from his brow, carrying a satchel full of herbs and scrolls. His smile is warm and soft — the kind of smile that feels like home.

She leaps into his arms, and he lifts her up effortlessly.

Look who’s still sleepy, huh?”

“Papa’s home! Papa’s home!!”

[CAMERA PANS UP — BRIGHT BLUE SKY]

Birds fly overhead. The wind carries laughter across the trees. For a moment, the world is perfect.

But somewhere, faint… barely audible...

A single tick... tick... tick... echoes again.
Just for a second.