Vincent/Vaelthor~
I sat on the worn wooden porch of Rayma's cottage, the late afternoon sun filtering through the canopy of ancient oaks, forming dappled golden patterns on the grass. It had been two months since I'd woken up in that strange bed, my mind a blank canvas smeared with confusion and that inexplicable ache in my chest. Two months of calling myself Star, a name that felt like a borrowed starlight—faint, but guiding. And in those months, Rayma had become my world, a steady anchor in the storm of my forgotten life.
