Amid the shadows of the forest, fleeting lights glittered among the leaves like tiny fragments of fallen stars. Some figures wandered, barely visible between the trunks, light shadows moving unhurriedly, as if studying her every breath. It was as if the ancient call of the Blue Veins had manifested in these presences: fragments of the magic that had preceded her, invisible witnesses to her birth and her legacy. April felt a shiver run down her spine. It was not fear, but awareness: she was not alone, and the forest itself was recognizing what she was becoming. And being recognized did not always mean being ready.

She felt a movement in the silence, imperceptible. The girl with violet hair advanced slowly, with a light step like a suspended dance. Her eyes expressed not surprise, but curiosity and anticipation. The forest seemed to recognize her, opening space between trunks and branches as she moved. The forest seemed to recognize her, gently opening space between the trunks and foliage as she advanced. Her presence was calm, silent, as if the forest itself had been waiting for her. She was there, simply, as if she had appeared from nowhere, yet inevitable. April felt her heart stop for a moment. She knew, without understanding how, that this girl would be part of her destiny.

The forest seemed to recognize her, opening space between trunks and branches as she moved. April recognized, without knowing how, the same energy she had felt in the reflection of that puddle. Small sparks of light danced among the trees, as if the very magic of the Blue Veins had come to greet April. The moss quivered slightly, the roots seemed to breathe. Every heartbeat of the girl made the air around her vibrate, and for a moment the entire forest seemed to listen, attentive and alive. April inhaled deeply, letting herself be filled with a sense of power and responsibility she had never known before. The ancient call was no longer hers alone: something—or someone—had been watching her all along, tied to the destiny that time itself had marked.

The forest changed its breath. The runes on the trunks lit up one by one, as if preparing something. The air bent at a precise point, and April felt the call shift, becoming suddenly close. The runes glowed, vibrating on the trunks around them. A pink flash exploded for a moment, making shadows dance as if trying to reach them. The forest itself seemed to wait, ready to react at the slightest mistake. The stranger watched her carefully, as if studying a fascinating enigma. She raised her hands in a gesture of peace, while the runes trembled ever more. The world around them seemed to distort; a shrill sound, leaves lifted in vortices, reacted to her presence.

April had a clear sensation that if this girl lost control, the forest would not explode. It would simply cease to exist. Star brushed against a trunk, and the wood lit up immediately. April felt that if this girl uttered a single word out of place, something would break. Not the forest. Her.

Star stopped a few steps away. For a moment she seemed hesitant, then slowly extended a hand. She did not touch her immediately. The air between them vibrated, as if the water itself were holding its breath. When Star’s fingers brushed April’s wrist, a faint shock ran through them both. Not pain. Recognition. April flinched. Star withdrew her hand sharply, as if she had touched something too fragile.