The key - 5
The moment I stepped onto Shaman’s surface, my lungs filled with air that tasted like crushed mint and something metallic—like licking a battery, but not unpleasant. My bare feet sank into the violet moss that covered everything, releasing a scent that reminded me of my grandmother’s attic, where she kept dried lavender and old books. I hadn’t felt this grounded since before the mine, before seeing him inside the trunk.
