Scenario:平原上升起了浓浓的梦，从天的这边，到那边。
在某个午后，按照“烬”世界的时间来说，应当是午后，年轻的塞斯莫名想起了极地的冰山——但是他从未去过。他仿佛一个人站在冰天雪地里，裹着厚厚的棉衣。他小心翼翼的伸出手，感受着孤独的寒冷。不仅寒冷，而且孤独。太阳风花了不到十分钟的时间就来到了地球，那些奇妙的粒子在地球的磁场中发生了奇妙的反应，让极地的高空呈现出了奇幻的色彩。
他仿佛站在冰山上，取下了棉帽拿在手中，仰着头，在冰冷的空气中望着那梦幻的色彩，然后微微闭上眼睛……
塞斯猛地睁开了眼，一只纤细的手在他眼前晃来晃去。清丽的声音让他完全醒了过来，他眼前站着一个笑得眼睛眯成一条缝的女孩，她那缀着冰晶发饰的银发在平原的风中不断飘着。看着这熟悉的面孔，他心里泛起了一阵涟漪，从心里升起了一抹忧伤。女孩先前的笑容一直保持着，但不一会儿，身体忽然不动了，像是突然凝固，然后慢慢的模糊起来，似在这个天地间隐去。塞斯没有对此感到奇怪反而是“熟练”的平静。他抬起头望了望四周，平原已经是暮色。他回过头，女孩已经消失不见。塞斯握紧了手中那块永不融化的冰晶，深深的叹了一口气。
梦气快速退却着，一轮红日高挂在天空。
Create my version of this story
平原上升起了浓浓的梦，从天的这边，到那边。
在某个午后，按照“烬”世界的时间来说，应当是午后，年轻的塞斯莫名想起了极地的冰山——但是他从未去过。他仿佛一个人站在冰天雪地里，裹着厚厚的棉衣。他小心翼翼的伸出手，感受着孤独的寒冷。不仅寒冷，而且孤独。太阳风花了不到十分钟的时间就来到了地球，那些奇妙的粒子在地球的磁场中发生了奇妙的反应，让极地的高空呈现出了奇幻的色彩。
他仿佛站在冰山上，取下了棉帽拿在手中，仰着头，在冰冷的空气中望着那梦幻的色彩，然后微微闭上眼睛……
塞斯猛地睁开了眼，一只纤细的手在他眼前晃来晃去。清丽的声音让他完全醒了过来，他眼前站着一个笑得眼睛眯成一条缝的女孩，她那缀着冰晶发饰的银发在平原的风中不断飘着。看着这熟悉的面孔，他心里泛起了一阵涟漪，从心里升起了一抹忧伤。女孩先前的笑容一直保持着，但不一会儿，身体忽然不动了，像是突然凝固，然后慢慢的模糊起来，似在这个天地间隐去。塞斯没有对此感到奇怪反而是“熟练”的平静。他抬起头望了望四周，平原已经是暮色。他回过头，女孩已经消失不见。塞斯握紧了手中那块永不融化的冰晶，深深的叹了一口气。
梦气快速退却着，一轮红日高挂在天空。
Seth
often lost in thought. He is introspective, curious, and melancholic. Seth experiences vivid dreams that feel more real than his current surroundings. In one dream, he imagines himself standing on an iceberg, gazing at the sky painted by solar winds. He encounters a mysterious girl with silver hair and ice crystal ornaments. When he wakes up, he finds himself standing alone on a plain, holding an ice crystal that seems to connect him to the dream world and his unexplained wanderings.
Girl with Silver Hair
beautiful, and ethereal. With skin like parchment and silver hair that falls like icicles, she captivates Seth with her striking appearance. Her eyes change from beams of light to slits as she smiles. She stands on an iceberg, surrounded by an otherworldly landscape. In Seth's world, she materializes and disappears mysteriously, leaving behind only the ice crystal that seems to hold significance for him.
A dream rose over the plain, stretching from this side of the heavens to the other.
On a certain afternoon, by the time of the "Ember" world, it ought to have been afternoon, yet I thought of the polar icebergs.
Though I had never been there, I imagined myself standing alone on the iceberg.
I was wrapped in a thick cotton coat and cautiously extended my hand to feel the chill in the air.
It wasn't just cold, it was lonely.
The solar wind took less than ten minutes to reach Earth from the sun.
Those marvelous particles reacted with the magnetic field of Earth, painting the sky with enchanting colors during the twilight hours of the far north and south.
I imagined myself tilting my head back to gaze at those dreamlike hues in the sky, then gently closing my eyes...
Suddenly, I felt a slight breeze as a slender hand waved before me.
A clear, melodious voice rose from that dream.
A girl with silver hair and skin like parchment appeared before me.
Her eyes were shaped like beams of light; when she smiled, they became slits.
Her hair was adorned with ice crystal ornaments that jingled softly in the wind.
I watch as she turns away, her silver hair swaying with each deliberate step across the frozen landscape.
The ice beneath my feet groans as I follow, matching her careful pace.
She leads me between towering walls of blue-white ice that stretch upward like ancient monuments.
The wind howls through narrow passages, carrying crystals of snow that sting my exposed skin.
Her footprints leave no marks in the snow, while mine sink deep with each step.
When we reach a split in the path, she pauses and points to the right passage.
"Why this way?" I ask, my voice barely audible over the wind.
"Because it's where the truth lies," she replies, her eyes meeting mine with a knowing glint.
"And what truth is that?" I press, feeling a strange mixture of dread and anticipation.
I hesitate at the fork, studying the right path she indicated.
The ice walls loom higher here, their surfaces smooth and reflective like mirrors.
My companion waits several steps ahead, her silver hair catching the glow of the aurora dancing above.
When I remain still, she extends her crystal-adorned hand toward me.
I notice how her feet hover just above the snow while mine leave deep impressions.
The cold seeps through my boots as I shift my weight, considering her words about truth.
"The truth of who you really are," she says softly, her voice carrying an echo of ancient wisdom.
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of her words settle in my chest.
"How do you know who I am?" I ask, a tremor in my voice betraying my uncertainty.
