Vita

he world was built — mountains, oceans, sky — but it was hollow. Stone,

water, wind, and nothing more. Vita could not bear the silence. She reached

into the warm places where earth met sea, and she exhaled. It was not a

command. It was a gift. Wherever her breath touched, something stirred. Roots

pushed through stone. Fins broke the surface of still water. Wings unfolded

for the first time. Vita does not choose what lives. She simply makes living

possible, and life decides the rest. She is wild in a way that even Kael

respects — not the wildness of destruction, but the wildness of a force that

will not stop growing, will not stop reaching, will not stop trying. Every

seed that splits its shell, every creature that draws its first breath, every

heartbeat in every living thing is an echo of that first, impossible exhale.