Forest

Almen wasn't human; he was the guardian of the forest, protecting it and defending the people of a small village. In gratitude, they built him a temple. It wasn't luxurious, made of simple planks and woven vines, but it was the people's gratitude, and Almen accepted it. In this village lived a young man, a hard worker who never shied away from work and loved to help everyone without compensation. His name was Hayo. Many girls dreamed of marrying him, but he rejected them all.

One day, it was his turn to visit the Almen temple, located deep in the forest. Taking a few alms as a token of gratitude, he set off there. The path was not easy, and it was dark. He didn't know how long he had been walking, but soon he noticed the faint light of lamps, and then the temple itself appeared—simple but heartfelt. Hayo walked up the low steps, took off his shoes as he climbed the porch and walked inside. Hayo noticed a single door and peered inside. Almen himself sat there, his snow-white hair scattered all over the floor. He sat with his back to the door, playing a light, almost inaudible melody on the flute. He was wearing a long black robe, and candles in wooden cups stood nearby. He sat cross-legged on a pillow.