Trees with trunks that rise above the clouds, covered in red and white mushrooms, and dark green moss that is both soft and vibrant. The sound of a stream, too far away to be seen, yet close enough to hear the gentle melody of its light current flowing over rocks. A path of black stone slabs winds its way through the foliage, leading to a mysterious place. Here, the trees form a perfect circle, leaving just enough space to reveal, under a few fallen branches, a spiral of tulips. These flowers, shaped like our galaxy, never wither. In winter, their brilliant petals seem to burn through the snow with their radiance.

The forest animals gather around this flower bed every year on the first day of the snow season. Black deer with their families, white boars, rabbits, foxes, and brown bears with reddish paws in summer... But above all, the solitary sage of the forest, the old black wolf whose fur turns blue on nights of a full moon, watches over this precious territory. He is not the guardian of the forest but the embodiment of the goddess of the night, Nébula.

On the winter evening when the forest inhabitants gather, Nébula returns to her original form a magnificent fairy. She is tall, with slightly tanned, luminous skin. The trees seem to bow as she passes, as though the forest itself pays her homage. Her long hair is a mix of blue and black. Her face resembles that of an elf, though with a longer nose and smaller ears. She wears a stunning midnight-blue silk gown adorned with golden jewelry and long, flowing sleeves made of lighter, transparent fabric. But the most breathtaking feature is her large wings, shimmering with rainbow hues and a golden texture that makes them glow as brightly as the warm rays of the sun on a spring morning.

Once awakened from her long slumber as the wolf, Nébula, as always, heads to the stream. She dips her hand into the water, silencing its gentle cries by transforming it into an icy serpent.

This year, her breath was deeper, more solemn, and a light breeze swept through the trees, carrying whispers of ancient secrets. The forest animals, watching quietly from a distance, were captivated and reverent of this ancestral ritual. The frozen serpent, now still and silent, slowly rose, transforming into a crystal statue with bluish reflections.

Nébula raised her eyes to the sky. The moon, full and radiant, shone with an otherworldly glow, as if it acknowledged her presence. In her eyes, infinity reflected back. She knew that the forest, this sacred place, held a power far greater than anything humans could comprehend. Every tree, every stone, every breath of air carried within it an ancient memory, a connection between earth and sky.

Suddenly, a strange noise broke the silence. A tremor, a vibration coming from the earth itself. The roots of the trees began to move slowly, as though bowing to the goddess. A stronger wind blew, and a silvery light filled the clearing. Nébula smiled. A new cycle had begun.

She turned toward the circle of trees, her wings unfurling, ready to guide a new era.