Yarin's POV:
I sprinted away, but the crows, sensing my attempt to escape, took flight and swooped down toward . Their sharp beaks were like blades, attempting to tear flesh from my body!
Two legs couldn't outrun a swarm of wings. With birds surrounding , confrontation would only lead to harm. I needed to find a place to hide for safety.
Why not shapeshift? Of course, I couldn't. I had no control over this dream, and within it, I was powerless. Just like an ordinary child, devoid of any fighting capability.
I rushed into a palace and slamd the door shut with all my strength just as the crows were about to charge in. I quickly secured the door with a bolt, leaning against the wall and panting heavily, my heart pounding like thunder.
Why had my powers disappeared? But my physical reactions felt so real. Well, this dream sure was scientifically sound!
There was a continuous pounding on the door. After a few minutes, the noise gradually faded, indicating the crows had given up.
Finally, I had a mont to catch my breath and survey my surroundings.
This seed to be a palace dedicated to storing musical instrunts. It was less dilapidated compared to the exterior ruins. Though the murals on the walls were peeling, and the floor was cracked, decorations were haphazardly scattered, and everything was askew.
Many instrunts lay discarded on the ground: broken strings on the lyres, shattered drumheads, and once ornate trinkets reduced to dull fragnts.
Among the damaged instrunts, one remained intact. It was conspicuous, lying on the only intact table in the room. A soft, pale yellow silk cloth cushioned its base.
It was a small harp, crafted from wood, and coated with a shiny lacquer. Unlike real instrunts, it was the size to be held in one's arms and had only seven strings, each composed of intertwining gold and silver threads. It was clearly not ant for playing.
This was an ornant, a lavishly precious decoration.
For so reason, I felt an urge to pick it up. rely looking at it gave a profound sense of security. The strings, which would never produce music, strumd the air silently, imparting a feeling of spring breeze.
So I cradled it and then wrapped it in the yellow silk after a mont's thought.
I couldn't stay in this room forever. There was a faint golden symbol on my palm, which was the exit from the dream.
But I didn't want to leave right away. This eerie dream clearly concealed a lot of information. If I left now, who knew if I would have the chance to return and investigate further?
I cautiously peered through the door crack, but all I saw was darkness. It was strange, was it nightti?
But soon, I felt sothing amiss. The temperature in the room seed to be rising. No, the temperature outside was rising, causing the room to heat up.
Whether it was my sixth sense or not, at the mont I beca aware of the temperature change, an intense feeling of danger erupted within . I abruptly leaned away from the door. The next second, scorching flas gushed out from the gap!
The door was quickly burnt to a crisp, disintegrating from the fra and revealing the scene outside.
My eyes widened.
It was a sea of crows, burning brightly. They covered every visible corner within my field of vision. Maybe what I saw through the gap wasn't the night, but their charred feathers!
And I understood why their feathers looked scorched.
They were on fire.
This horde of crows, frail in bird bodies, was unaffected by the searing flas. It was as if the fire was their strength, blazing from within their bodies.
Strangely, this group of crows, even more terrifying and powerful with their fiery appearance, no longer held the enmity they had before. They just stared at with their inorganic red eyes, motionless and silent.
They blocked my way, and I would have to pass through them if I wanted to leave.
I tentatively took a step forward.
The crows remained still.
Another step.
Still no reaction.
A few more steps.
Still, nothing happened.
In this way, until I stepped out of the encirclent of crows, they still remained motionless, just silently watching leave.
Yet, I still couldn't let my guard down. Who knew when this flock of birds might suddenly beco aggressive?
I held the harp and retreated cautiously, one step at a ti, gradually distancing myself from the burning crow swarm.
The waves of heat from the flas grew fainter, and the scorching sensation diminished, replaced by the chilly breeze that made shiver.
And just then, the crows began to move.
I jumped in alarm, clutching the harp and sprinting. However, after running a few steps, I realized sothing was off. The crows didn't seem to be chasing .
Turning around, I saw the flaming crows, one by one, taking flight into the sky. They resembled spinning wheels, chasing each other, circling in mid-air.
Their flas burned fiercer, feathers turning to ashes, flesh becoming fuel. Even their bones
were consud by the flas. Before long, the flock of crows transford into a ring of fire, suspended in the air, like a lifeless sun.
I was dumbfounded, unknowingly stopping in my tracks, staring at this awe-inspiring
spectacle.
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