Prologue
The countryside had a way of slowing everything down.
The mornings were quieter, the air smelled of fresh grass and damp earth, and the old wooden house where Grandma lived felt untouched by time. Every summer, it welcomed children, laughter, and the familiar sound of chores waiting to be done.
Hyacinth had barely unpacked her things when her grandmother's voice echoed through the house.
"Hyacinth, dear, we're almost out of water. Could you fetch some for us?"
She let out a dramatic sigh and crossed her arms.
"Again? Why is it always me? Just because I'm here, I'm suddenly the one who has to do everything."
Her younger brother, Christian, laughed from the doorway.
"Well, you *are* the newest one here. Besides, it's only one bucket. You complain way too much."
Hyacinth shot him a playful glare.
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one being sent."
Their grandmother smiled and gently shook her head.
"Oh, my dear, it's only a short walk. Back in my day, we fetched water ten times a day. A little sunshine won't hurt you."
Hyacinth let out another exaggerated sigh before finally giving in.
"Fine... I'll go."
She picked up the empty pail and headed toward the old well at the edge of the forest. The narrow dirt path was lined with wildflowers dancing in the gentle summer breeze, while birds sang from the towering trees overhead.
It was peaceful.
Almost too peaceful.
By the time she reached the well, the only sounds she could hear were the creaking of the old pulley and the splash of water filling the pail.
She wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead.
Then...
She felt it.
The unmistakable feeling that someone was watching her.
Slowly, she turned.
Leaning against the trunk of an ancient tree stood a boy about her age. His dark hair swayed softly with the wind, and his eyes held a quiet mystery, as though they had witnessed centuries of stories hidden within the forest.
He smiled.
It wasn't the kind of smile strangers gave.
It was the smile of someone who had been waiting.
"You finally came."
Hyacinth frowned, tightening her grip on the pail.
"...Do I know you?"
The boy tilted his head, his smile never fading.
"Not yet."
The wind suddenly fell still.
The leaves stopped rustling.
Even the birds seemed to hold their breath.
"My name is Sefil," he said softly.
Hyacinth was certain she had never met him before.
And yet...
For reasons she couldn't explain...
He felt strangely familiar.
