𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀! - ✴ 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈.

❝三❞ー𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋.

✴

-

ー 𝐎𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬,
𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐧º 𝟑.

ー ❝随着时间的流逝，❞

-

❝And with the passage of time,❞.

-

As seasons pass, the sweltering heat turned into a pleasant breeze. This breeze shifted into unbearable cold, and the cold transformed into a once familiar scene; hundred of water droplets falling to the ground in admirable harmony. A recreation of the day they'd met.

Abiding by their usual arrangement, the now-familiar maiden took her seat near the dragon's tail. And over the span of just a few minutes, she had already made herself more than comfortable. All over the rocky floor of the cave lay an endless number of scrolls and stray papers, thrown about in a haphazard manner. Yet, somehow, in all this mess, the maiden in a bamboo hat still managed to be productive. It was rather impressive.

Today's weather was unique. The sun was partially out and occasionally hidden by the clouds. There were a few waves of heat, though they weren't anything extreme. People wandered about as usual, their mannerisms more bland than anything. It was normal. Normal was a term the dragon had forsaken for a long time. That was why, compared to all other days, something about today in particular felt... off. Yet he couldn't pinpoint exactly what he was feeling.

To brush off these obscure thoughts, the dragon moved his gaze in an attempt at finding something else that could enrapture his attention. His eyes remained glued on a pair of light grey pants. They were loose, yet didn't dare go under the pitch-black sandals of the one wearing said pants.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes landing on someone's back. A top, resembling a traditional one, composed of plum purple, gold and light lavender, caught his attention. Over it, the veiled bamboo hat served as a thin film, lightly blurring the designs that imitated the swirling of bamboo leaves, resting on the woman's top.

The outfit was a remix on a traditional robe, giving more space to move about and seemed far more comfortable than the usual long, layered robes the other wore. It gave off the vibe that she was in her own abode, trying to finish a piece by the deadline.

The bamboo hat was soon removed and the woman fixed up her posture, raising herself from her previous position that forced her to hunch over the paper on which she wrote. Whatever she was writing didn't seem to be coming together. Her eyebrows furrowed, one of her nails tapping on the edge of the thin, wooden paintbrush she held.