[DISBAND] The HimmeFiern : Beyond of Timeless Journey.
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ใƒผ ‎ ๐œ—๐œšหš . The extended lifespan will lead us on a journey, sharing the joys and sorrows of togetherness. @HimmeFiern Nothing lasts forever but it will live on in every heart.

  ‎ ‎ @Himeirnbot Dream Escape
  ‎ @HimeirnSfsBot (for SFS and HFW)
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ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€

         ใ€€ใ€€ใ€Œ ไบบใฏไฝ•ๅบฆใงใ‚‚ๅ‡บไผšใ„็›ดใ›ใ‚‹ใ€‚
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใใ‚ŒใŒไบบ็”Ÿใฎ็ด ๆ™ดใ‚‰ใ—ใ„ใจใ“ใ‚ใ ใ€‚ใ€
            ใ€€ใ€€"People can always meet again.
          ใ€€  ใ€€Thatโ€™s whatโ€™s wonderful about life."


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€โ”€โ”โ”โ”โ” โ‹† ยท ยท โ… ยท ยท โ‹† โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”€

ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€The sunset crept into the sky, shining a golden glow on the garden. Among the tenderly swaying grass, a little kid stood, the eyes sparkling as gazed at the blooming flower field. The iridescent calyx danced in the breeze, sprouting from the empty soil-a gift from the master's magic.

ใ€€In the meantime, the master was standing in silence, observing the splendour created in front of themselves. These blossoms had no power to fight, could not defend or endure for long. Yet, precisely in ephemerality lies meaning. The flowers will wither in a short time nevertheless are chosen, perhaps not for endurance but for their unpretentious charm, because of the warmth that can be felt even for a moment.


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€๏ดพ The Secret Spells of Yarrow ๏ดฟ‏
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€      Heir of Spells โ€“ Gwen Fiern.


ใ€€ใ€€โ€ขโ˜ฝใ€€เผปยจ:ยท. โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ โ‚Šโ˜ฝใ€€โ—ฏใ€€โ˜พโ‚Š โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ .ยท:ยจเผบใ€€โ˜พโ€ข


ใ€€In a world filled with war and destruction, there's something more precious than strength-something neither destroys, nor hurts, to remind us that beauty can still be created. This magic is not about glory or majesty, rather about the leaving of subtle but meaningful traces.

For amongst the falling of calyx, the master knew that someday, the little kid would understand.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ ใ€€
โค9๐Ÿ”ฅ4๐Ÿ˜4๐Ÿ†’4๐Ÿ’˜3๐Ÿ“2โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ1๐Ÿ’ฏ1
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ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€    

     ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€A Spell Woven in Violets
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€In twilightโ€™s hush, the violets sing,
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€Soft whispers laced with spells of spring.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ยทใ€€ ยท โ”€ ยทใ€€โ˜ฝใ€€๐–ค“ใ€€โ˜พใ€€ยท โ”€ ยท ใ€€ยท

ใ€€The family is a tapestry of interlocking roles, similar to the strings of yarn that weave the story of life. Each role has a place, and in the balance is where the family has discovered strength-filling each other and taking steps together to the future.

ใ€€Now, them steps out not only to find something, but to understand-feeling again the traces that had long been left behind. The storms blocking their path are not barriers, but part of the journey that they must take.

ใ€€At the edge of horizon which is hidden by the snowy fog, a new adventure awaits. However, for a witch who has lived thousands of years, the journey in HimmeFiern more than steps forward. It was a journey through time, reliving memories almost forgotten.
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€ใ€€
8โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ11โค6๐Ÿ”ฅ4๐Ÿ•Š3๐Ÿ’‹2๐Ÿ’ฏ1๐Ÿ“1๐Ÿ’˜1
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€

         ใ€€ใ€€ใ€Œ ไบบใฏไฝ•ๅบฆใงใ‚‚ๅ‡บไผšใ„็›ดใ›ใ‚‹ใ€‚
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใใ‚ŒใŒไบบ็”Ÿใฎ็ด ๆ™ดใ‚‰ใ—ใ„ใจใ“ใ‚ใ ใ€‚ใ€
            ใ€€ใ€€"People can always meet again.
          ใ€€  ใ€€Thatโ€™s whatโ€™s wonderful about life."


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€โ”€โ”โ”โ”โ” โ‹† ยท ยท โ… ยท ยท โ‹† โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”€

ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€The sunset crept into the sky, shining a golden glow on the garden. Among the tenderly swaying grass, a little kid stood, the eyes sparkling as gazed at the blooming flower field. The iridescent calyx danced in the breeze, sprouting from the empty soil-a gift from the master's magic.

ใ€€In the meantime, the master was standing in silence, observing the splendour created in front of themselves. These blossoms had no power to fight, could not defend or endure for long. Yet, precisely in ephemerality lies meaning. The flowers will wither in a short time nevertheless are chosen, perhaps not for endurance but for their unpretentious charm, because of the warmth that can be felt even for a moment.


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€๏ดพ The Secret Spells of Gardenia ๏ดฟ‏
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€      Heir of Spells โ€“ Nadeo Himme.


ใ€€ใ€€โ€ขโ˜ฝใ€€เผปยจ:ยท. โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ โ‚Šโ˜ฝใ€€โ—ฏใ€€โ˜พโ‚Š โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ .ยท:ยจเผบใ€€โ˜พโ€ข


ใ€€In a world filled with war and destruction, there's something more precious than strength-something neither destroys, nor hurts, to remind us that beauty can still be created. This magic is not about glory or majesty, rather about the leaving of subtle but meaningful traces.

For amongst the falling of calyx, the master knew that someday, the little kid would understand.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ ใ€€
๐Ÿ”ฅ7โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ4โค4๐Ÿพ3๐Ÿ“2๐Ÿ’‹2๐ŸŽ‰1๐Ÿ’ฏ1๐Ÿ†’1
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ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€    

     ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€A Spell Woven in Violets
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€In twilightโ€™s hush, the violets sing,
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€Soft whispers laced with spells of spring.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ยทใ€€ ยท โ”€ ยทใ€€โ˜ฝใ€€๐–ค“ใ€€โ˜พใ€€ยท โ”€ ยท ใ€€ยท

ใ€€The family is a tapestry of interlocking roles, similar to the strings of yarn that weave the story of life. Each role has a place, and in the balance is where the family has discovered strength-filling each other and taking steps together to the future.

ใ€€Now, them steps out not only to find something, but to understand-feeling again the traces that had long been left behind. The storms blocking their path are not barriers, but part of the journey that they must take.

ใ€€At the edge of horizon which is hidden by the snowy fog, a new adventure awaits. However, for a witch who has lived thousands of years, the journey in HimmeFiern more than steps forward. It was a journey through time, reliving memories almost forgotten.
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€ใ€€
4โค13๐Ÿ’˜10๐Ÿ“6๐Ÿ”ฅ5โ˜ƒ2๐ŸŽ‰2โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ1๐Ÿ’‹1๐Ÿ†’1
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€

         ใ€€ใ€€ใ€Œ ไบบใฏไฝ•ๅบฆใงใ‚‚ๅ‡บไผšใ„็›ดใ›ใ‚‹ใ€‚
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใใ‚ŒใŒไบบ็”Ÿใฎ็ด ๆ™ดใ‚‰ใ—ใ„ใจใ“ใ‚ใ ใ€‚ใ€
            ใ€€ใ€€"People can always meet again.
          ใ€€  ใ€€Thatโ€™s whatโ€™s wonderful about life."


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€โ”€โ”โ”โ”โ” โ‹† ยท ยท โ… ยท ยท โ‹† โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”€

ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€The sunset crept into the sky, shining a golden glow on the garden. Among the tenderly swaying grass, a little kid stood, the eyes sparkling as gazed at the blooming flower field. The iridescent calyx danced in the breeze, sprouting from the empty soil-a gift from the master's magic.

ใ€€In the meantime, the master was standing in silence, observing the splendour created in front of themselves. These blossoms had no power to fight, could not defend or endure for long. Yet, precisely in ephemerality lies meaning. The flowers will wither in a short time nevertheless are chosen, perhaps not for endurance but for their unpretentious charm, because of the warmth that can be felt even for a moment.


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€๏ดพ The Secret Spells of Lavender ๏ดฟ‏
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€      Heir of Spells โ€“ Luelle Fiern.


ใ€€ใ€€โ€ขโ˜ฝใ€€เผปยจ:ยท. โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ โ‚Šโ˜ฝใ€€โ—ฏใ€€โ˜พโ‚Š โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ .ยท:ยจเผบใ€€โ˜พโ€ข


ใ€€In a world filled with war and destruction, there's something more precious than strength-something neither destroys, nor hurts, to remind us that beauty can still be created. This magic is not about glory or majesty, rather about the leaving of subtle but meaningful traces.

For amongst the falling of calyx, the master knew that someday, the little kid would understand.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ ใ€€
โ˜ƒ6๐ŸŽ„6๐Ÿ“5โค3๐Ÿ”ฅ2๐Ÿ’‹2๐Ÿ†’2๐Ÿ’˜2โšก1โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ1
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ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€    

     ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€A Spell Woven in Violets
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€In twilightโ€™s hush, the violets sing,
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€Soft whispers laced with spells of spring.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ยทใ€€ ยท โ”€ ยทใ€€โ˜ฝใ€€๐–ค“ใ€€โ˜พใ€€ยท โ”€ ยท ใ€€ยท

ใ€€The family is a tapestry of interlocking roles, similar to the strings of yarn that weave the story of life. Each role has a place, and in the balance is where the family has discovered strength-filling each other and taking steps together to the future.

ใ€€Now, them steps out not only to find something, but to understand-feeling again the traces that had long been left behind. The storms blocking their path are not barriers, but part of the journey that they must take.

ใ€€At the edge of horizon which is hidden by the snowy fog, a new adventure awaits. However, for a witch who has lived thousands of years, the journey in HimmeFiern more than steps forward. It was a journey through time, reliving memories almost forgotten.
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€ใ€€
5โค9โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ6๐Ÿฅฐ4๐Ÿ”ฅ1๐Ÿ“1๐Ÿ’‹1๐Ÿ†’1
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€

         ใ€€ใ€€ใ€Œ ไบบใฏไฝ•ๅบฆใงใ‚‚ๅ‡บไผšใ„็›ดใ›ใ‚‹ใ€‚
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใใ‚ŒใŒไบบ็”Ÿใฎ็ด ๆ™ดใ‚‰ใ—ใ„ใจใ“ใ‚ใ ใ€‚ใ€
            ใ€€ใ€€"People can always meet again.
          ใ€€  ใ€€Thatโ€™s whatโ€™s wonderful about life."


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€โ”€โ”โ”โ”โ” โ‹† ยท ยท โ… ยท ยท โ‹† โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”€

ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€The sunset crept into the sky, shining a golden glow on the garden. Among the tenderly swaying grass, a little kid stood, the eyes sparkling as gazed at the blooming flower field. The iridescent calyx danced in the breeze, sprouting from the empty soil-a gift from the master's magic.

ใ€€In the meantime, the master was standing in silence, observing the splendour created in front of themselves. These blossoms had no power to fight, could not defend or endure for long. Yet, precisely in ephemerality lies meaning. The flowers will wither in a short time nevertheless are chosen, perhaps not for endurance but for their unpretentious charm, because of the warmth that can be felt even for a moment.


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€๏ดพ The Secret Spells of Lavender ๏ดฟ‏
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€      Heir of Spells โ€“ Lionel Himme.


ใ€€ใ€€โ€ขโ˜ฝใ€€เผปยจ:ยท. โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ โ‚Šโ˜ฝใ€€โ—ฏใ€€โ˜พโ‚Š โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ .ยท:ยจเผบใ€€โ˜พโ€ข


ใ€€In a world filled with war and destruction, there's something more precious than strength-something neither destroys, nor hurts, to remind us that beauty can still be created. This magic is not about glory or majesty, rather about the leaving of subtle but meaningful traces.

For amongst the falling of calyx, the master knew that someday, the little kid would understand.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ ใ€€
โค8๐Ÿ”ฅ7๐Ÿ•Š4๐Ÿ“3๐Ÿ’‹2๐Ÿ†’2
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ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€    

     ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€A Spell Woven in Violets
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€In twilightโ€™s hush, the violets sing,
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€Soft whispers laced with spells of spring.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ยทใ€€ ยท โ”€ ยทใ€€โ˜ฝใ€€๐–ค“ใ€€โ˜พใ€€ยท โ”€ ยท ใ€€ยท

ใ€€The family is a tapestry of interlocking roles, similar to the strings of yarn that weave the story of life. Each role has a place, and in the balance is where the family has discovered strength-filling each other and taking steps together to the future.

ใ€€Now, them steps out not only to find something, but to understand-feeling again the traces that had long been left behind. The storms blocking their path are not barriers, but part of the journey that they must take.

ใ€€At the edge of horizon which is hidden by the snowy fog, a new adventure awaits. However, for a witch who has lived thousands of years, the journey in HimmeFiern more than steps forward. It was a journey through time, reliving memories almost forgotten.
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€ใ€€
6โค11๐Ÿ†’9๐Ÿ“7๐Ÿ”ฅ4๐Ÿ’‹2๐Ÿ’˜2โšก1
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€

         ใ€€ใ€€ใ€Œ ไบบใฏไฝ•ๅบฆใงใ‚‚ๅ‡บไผšใ„็›ดใ›ใ‚‹ใ€‚
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใใ‚ŒใŒไบบ็”Ÿใฎ็ด ๆ™ดใ‚‰ใ—ใ„ใจใ“ใ‚ใ ใ€‚ใ€
            ใ€€ใ€€"People can always meet again.
          ใ€€  ใ€€Thatโ€™s whatโ€™s wonderful about life."


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€โ”€โ”โ”โ”โ” โ‹† ยท ยท โ… ยท ยท โ‹† โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”€

ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€The sunset crept into the sky, shining a golden glow on the garden. Among the tenderly swaying grass, a little kid stood, the eyes sparkling as gazed at the blooming flower field. The iridescent calyx danced in the breeze, sprouting from the empty soil-a gift from the master's magic.

ใ€€In the meantime, the master was standing in silence, observing the splendour created in front of themselves. These blossoms had no power to fight, could not defend or endure for long. Yet, precisely in ephemerality lies meaning. The flowers will wither in a short time nevertheless are chosen, perhaps not for endurance but for their unpretentious charm, because of the warmth that can be felt even for a moment.


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€๏ดพ The Secret Spells of Rose ๏ดฟ‏
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€Child of the Sun โ€“ Eyzendy Himme.


ใ€€ใ€€โ€ขโ˜ฝใ€€เผปยจ:ยท. โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ โ‚Šโ˜ฝใ€€โ—ฏใ€€โ˜พโ‚Š โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ .ยท:ยจเผบใ€€โ˜พโ€ข


ใ€€In a world filled with war and destruction, there's something more precious than strength-something neither destroys, nor hurts, to remind us that beauty can still be created. This magic is not about glory or majesty, rather about the leaving of subtle but meaningful traces.

For amongst the falling of calyx, the master knew that someday, the little kid would understand.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ ใ€€
โค13๐Ÿ”ฅ6๐Ÿ†’4โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ2๐Ÿ’‹2๐Ÿ’˜2
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ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€    

     ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€A Spell Woven in Violets
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€In twilightโ€™s hush, the violets sing,
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€Soft whispers laced with spells of spring.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ยทใ€€ ยท โ”€ ยทใ€€โ˜ฝใ€€๐–ค“ใ€€โ˜พใ€€ยท โ”€ ยท ใ€€ยท

ใ€€The family is a tapestry of interlocking roles, similar to the strings of yarn that weave the story of life. Each role has a place, and in the balance is where the family has discovered strength-filling each other and taking steps together to the future.

ใ€€Now, them steps out not only to find something, but to understand-feeling again the traces that had long been left behind. The storms blocking their path are not barriers, but part of the journey that they must take.

ใ€€At the edge of horizon which is hidden by the snowy fog, a new adventure awaits. However, for a witch who has lived thousands of years, the journey in HimmeFiern more than steps forward. It was a journey through time, reliving memories almost forgotten.
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€ใ€€
4๐Ÿ”ฅ8๐Ÿ“4โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ3โค2๐Ÿฅฐ2๐ŸŽ‰2๐Ÿ˜2๐Ÿ’‹2๐Ÿ’˜2๐Ÿ‘1
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€

         ใ€€ใ€€ใ€Œ ไบบใฏไฝ•ๅบฆใงใ‚‚ๅ‡บไผšใ„็›ดใ›ใ‚‹ใ€‚
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใใ‚ŒใŒไบบ็”Ÿใฎ็ด ๆ™ดใ‚‰ใ—ใ„ใจใ“ใ‚ใ ใ€‚ใ€
            ใ€€ใ€€"People can always meet again.
          ใ€€  ใ€€Thatโ€™s whatโ€™s wonderful about life."


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€โ”€โ”โ”โ”โ” โ‹† ยท ยท โ… ยท ยท โ‹† โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”€

ใ€€ใ€€
ใ€€The sunset crept into the sky, shining a golden glow on the garden. Among the tenderly swaying grass, a little kid stood, the eyes sparkling as gazed at the blooming flower field. The iridescent calyx danced in the breeze, sprouting from the empty soil-a gift from the master's magic.

ใ€€In the meantime, the master was standing in silence, observing the splendour created in front of themselves. These blossoms had no power to fight, could not defend or endure for long. Yet, precisely in ephemerality lies meaning. The flowers will wither in a short time nevertheless are chosen, perhaps not for endurance but for their unpretentious charm, because of the warmth that can be felt even for a moment.


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€๏ดพ The Secret Spells of Daisy ๏ดฟ‏
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€Child of the Sun โ€“ Caeinna Fiern.


ใ€€ใ€€โ€ขโ˜ฝใ€€เผปยจ:ยท. โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ โ‚Šโ˜ฝใ€€โ—ฏใ€€โ˜พโ‚Š โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ .ยท:ยจเผบใ€€โ˜พโ€ข


ใ€€In a world filled with war and destruction, there's something more precious than strength-something neither destroys, nor hurts, to remind us that beauty can still be created. This magic is not about glory or majesty, rather about the leaving of subtle but meaningful traces.

For amongst the falling of calyx, the master knew that someday, the little kid would understand.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ ใ€€
๐Ÿ’‹7๐Ÿ”ฅ5โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ4๐Ÿ’˜4โค2๐ŸŽ‰2๐Ÿ•Š2๐Ÿ“2๐Ÿฅฐ1
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ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€    

     ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€A Spell Woven in Violets
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€In twilightโ€™s hush, the violets sing,
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€Soft whispers laced with spells of spring.

ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ยทใ€€ ยท โ”€ ยทใ€€โ˜ฝใ€€๐–ค“ใ€€โ˜พใ€€ยท โ”€ ยท ใ€€ยท

ใ€€The family is a tapestry of interlocking roles, similar to the strings of yarn that weave the story of life. Each role has a place, and in the balance is where the family has discovered strength-filling each other and taking steps together to the future.

ใ€€Now, them steps out not only to find something, but to understand-feeling again the traces that had long been left behind. The storms blocking their path are not barriers, but part of the journey that they must take.

ใ€€At the edge of horizon which is hidden by the snowy fog, a new adventure awaits. However, for a witch who has lived thousands of years, the journey in HimmeFiern more than steps forward. It was a journey through time, reliving memories almost forgotten.
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3โค8๐Ÿ”ฅ5๐Ÿ•Š4โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ3๐Ÿ’ฏ2๐Ÿ“2๐Ÿ’˜1
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€

         ใ€€ใ€€ใ€Œ ไบบใฏไฝ•ๅบฆใงใ‚‚ๅ‡บไผšใ„็›ดใ›ใ‚‹ใ€‚
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใใ‚ŒใŒไบบ็”Ÿใฎ็ด ๆ™ดใ‚‰ใ—ใ„ใจใ“ใ‚ใ ใ€‚ใ€
            ใ€€ใ€€"People can always meet again.
          ใ€€  ใ€€Thatโ€™s whatโ€™s wonderful about life."


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€โ”€โ”โ”โ”โ” โ‹† ยท ยท โ… ยท ยท โ‹† โ”โ”โ”โ”โ”€

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ใ€€The sunset crept into the sky, shining a golden glow on the garden. Among the tenderly swaying grass, a little kid stood, the eyes sparkling as gazed at the blooming flower field. The iridescent calyx danced in the breeze, sprouting from the empty soil-a gift from the master's magic.

ใ€€In the meantime, the master was standing in silence, observing the splendour created in front of themselves. These blossoms had no power to fight, could not defend or endure for long. Yet, precisely in ephemerality lies meaning. The flowers will wither in a short time nevertheless are chosen, perhaps not for endurance but for their unpretentious charm, because of the warmth that can be felt even for a moment.


ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€๏ดพ The Secret Spells of Daisy ๏ดฟ‏
ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€ใ€€Child of the Sun โ€“ Nicole Fiern.


ใ€€ใ€€โ€ขโ˜ฝใ€€เผปยจ:ยท. โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ โ‚Šโ˜ฝใ€€โ—ฏใ€€โ˜พโ‚Š โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ .ยท:ยจเผบใ€€โ˜พโ€ข


ใ€€In a world filled with war and destruction, there's something more precious than strength-something neither destroys, nor hurts, to remind us that beauty can still be created. This magic is not about glory or majesty, rather about the leaving of subtle but meaningful traces.

For amongst the falling of calyx, the master knew that someday, the little kid would understand.

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โคโ€๐Ÿ”ฅ6โค5๐Ÿฅฐ5๐Ÿ’ฏ4๐Ÿ’˜3๐Ÿ“2๐Ÿ”ฅ1๐Ÿ•Š1
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