Freya‘s pov.

The moment my foot crossed the veil into the valley, I felt it.

Obsidian Valley.

It was more than beautiful. It was alive.

My breath caught in my throat as I took it all in. The grass shimmered with dew despite the midday sun. Flowers bloomed in impossible colors, their petals dancing to a breeze that sang through the trees like a lullaby. Shades of lavender, blue, and gold carpeted the land like paint spilled from the heavens. The trees were tall and ...