One day, a young scribe climbed the peaks, hoping to record the true face of Afra. He found nothing but a hollow robe made of starlight and a single mirror. When he looked into the mirror, he didn't see his own reflection; he saw the person he could become if he let go of his heaviest secrets.
Afra was not a person of flesh and bone, but a collection of silver threads and shifting shadows. They lived within the , where every sound ever made in the world eventually drifted to rest. Afra Anikazip
: Once the sounds were purified, Afra would release them into the mountain winds. They didn't return to the speakers as words, but as a sudden, inexplicable feeling of peace or a gentle breeze that smelled of rain and cedar. One day, a young scribe climbed the peaks,