The first snow arrived earlier than expected.It began during the night, drifting silently across the upper peaks while most of the sanctuary slept. By dawn, a thin layer of white covered the stone terraces, softened the gardens, and transformed the mountain paths into ribbons of silver.From the highest windows, the world looked renewed.Not changed.Renewed.The distinction lingered in Vaelith's thoughts as she stood overlooking the valley.Below, autumn still held its ground. Forests shimmered with gold and amber. Rivers reflected pale morning light. Communities continued their daily routines beneath a season that had not yet fully surrendered.The mountain existed between worlds.Winter above.Autumn below.A fitting image, she thought, for a society standing between what it had been and what it was becoming.Behind her, the sanctuary stirred awake.Footsteps echoed through corridors.Doors opened.Voices emerged.Life resumed.Yet even after all these years, mornings like this re
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