｡ ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ
this is a test.
Private Oris emerged from his unconsciousness in a pool of water, where reminiscences of his childhood danced in the drops. He stood up under a blue sky that witnessed diverse souls: artists, lovers of life, writers and poets, a symphony of existences.
With each step, the landscape metamorphosed. The water turned orange, the sky took on warm tones, and souls dissolved in the breeze. On the second pass, the water turned red, the sky obscured by dust and smoke, like a shadow cast over the initial paradise.
Motionless, Oris contemplated the reality before him. He closed his eyes and saw friends discussing the power of words. An emotional cry echoed: "manusespectare!" Another proclaimed: "somniamater!" The third shouted: "immortalisfraternitas!" Upon opening his eyes, he took the third step, turning the water into blood. Bodies lay in the mud, the blue sky giving way to toxic smoke.
Oris, now on the battlefield, stood among warriors, paralyzed by the life fading away around him. The war had come to everyone, and he cried out for his friends, with no response. Feeling his skin burn from the high fever, he passed out, only to resurface in a medical room.
Their intact body contrasted with pale and lost souls. The loss of friends became evident, their souls erased. In shock, he stood up before a priest, who handed over his friends' last letters. When reading them, words of value echoed, pieces of souls intertwined.
Brotherhood pulsed in Oris, a vibrant essence of spirit and energy. As a survivor, he told the story, emanating the talents of his friends. Writer, artist and pianist, his works were published by the only survivor capable of narrating their stories.
Oris moved forward, bearing loss, aware that he was never truly alone. The story unfolded, intertwining destinies and preserving the essence of those who could no longer tell it.
Between the lines of friendship, the weight of words does not lie only in their melody, but in the richness of their meanings. In the world of genuine friendships, words are not just said; they are felt, absorbed and cultivated, creating fertile ground for authenticity to flourish.
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