The fog swallows the memory, and the light guards the world.
He walks alone with a blade, and the price is engraved on his hand; she uses her heart as an anchor to hold faith from afar.
No confession, no asking about the date of return, just side by side in silence, supporting each other in desperate situations.
Where the light falls is the way home.
If someone remembers it, it will not disappear; if someone walks with it, it will not be lonely.
Intention: The thick fog of the last days has swallowed up memories, and only faith and concern can withstand the long years. Use light as a shield and thoughts as blades to protect each other and find the way back.