The Beginning
The air was still, carrying a faint breeze across the vast grassland. The blades of grass were so short and delicate that they seemed no taller than a man's fingers, fluttering gently under the caress of the wind. The sprawling field stretched endlessly in every direction, devoid of life or movement, except for a single tree standing atop the highest point of the meadow. It was a magnificent tree—massive and commanding, its thick trunk rooted firmly into the earth as though it had been there since the beginning of time. Its branches spread outward like the arms of a giant, creating an umbrella of shadow over the ground beneath it. The sunlight poured down unrelentingly from the clear blue sky, high above—the sun's position marking the heart of midday. Yet, under the tree's canopy, the ground was cool, serene, and untouched by the harsh rays of the sun. And there, lying directly beneath the sprawling tree, was a boy. He appeared to be about fifteen years old. His black hair ...
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