In the heart of the enchanted village, beneath the ancient willow tree, lay Sylwen, the fairy elf. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, painting golden patterns across her skin. The soft hum of nature surrounded her, yet inside, her heart felt heavy. The burden of endless thoughts, regrets of the past, and worries of the future weighed her down like unseen chains.
She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the earth cradle her. Why do I feel trapped in a world so free? she wondered. The wind whispered through her silver hair, carrying with it the gentle rustle of butterfly wings.
A small butterfly landed on her hand, delicate and weightless. It did not question the wind, nor fear where it would be carried next. It simply was. Sylwen exhaled, a soft, shaky breath. Perhaps she, too, did not need to hold onto every thought so tightly.
"Like the wind carries the leaves and the river carries the current, let your worries flow. The world moves forward, and so can you."
With a quiet smile, she let go—of fear, of doubt. And for the first time in a long while, she simply existed, just as she was meant to.
♪ The Soul of Wind
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The Soul of Wind