[EXT. FOREST PATH – LATE MORNING LIGHT]

  Lyria is perched on her father’s back, arms wrapped around his neck, her giggles echoing through the sunlit woods. The trees sway gently above them, casting dappled shadows as light pours through the golden leaves.

  We now get a clear look at her father — tall and lean, with light blue and soft gray hair falling over one shoulder in a loose braid. His skin is slightly weathered from travel, and his deep navy eyes seem to hold an ocean of calm wisdom and hidden sorrow.

  His steps are slow, unhurried. He hums a soft lulby as they approach the house.

  [CAMERA PANS TO HIS HAND]

  He’s holding a small, wrapped bundle — smooth forest paper tied with a glowing ribbon.

  Lyria’s eyes sparkle.

  “Papa... did you bring a gift for me?”

  He chuckles, his voice gentle like rainfall.

  “Yes, my dear little star. I found something beautiful… and it reminded me of you.”

  [They step into the house.]

  Her mother looks up from where she’s folding dried herbs, raising a brow in surprise.

  “You’re back early, love. What happened?”

  He grins and shrugs.

  “The students were scatterbrained today. Magic lessons can wait.Besides… I saw something special on the way home, so I bought it and came straight back.”

  He kneels down, pcing Lyria gently on the floor as she eyes the gift like it’s a sacred treasure.

  “Go on. Open it.”

  [SOFT MUSIC SWELLS]

  Lyria unties the ribbon with tiny fingers and peels away the wrapping.

  Her eyes widen.She gasps — sharp and sweet.

  Inside is a glistening white dress, woven with shimmering threads that glint like starlight. The fabric almost seems to breathe, rippling gently even with no wind. Tiny runes are stitched along the edges, glowing faintly.

  [She holds it up — it flutters and shifts slightly, changing shape as she touches it.]

  “It’s… alive?!”

  Her father smiles warmly.

  “It’s a magical garment. It adjusts its size and shape to match its wearer’s heart.And more than that — it shows emotion… by changing color.”

  The dress flickers momentarily, shifting from white to a soft pink as Lyria’s face flushes with joy.

  “It responds to you.”

  Lyria twirls around with it, her ears wiggling, ughter echoing like windchimes.

  But her mother watches, a small crease in her brow.

  “Don’t you think… this is a bit early? A dress like that is a serious bond-magic tool.”

  The father stands, pcing a hand gently on her shoulder.

  “I don’t see a problem here.What I do see… is a way to understand our little star better.What she feels. What she hides. What she may never say aloud.”

  The mother hesitates, then her expression softens. She watches Lyria press the dress to her chest, eyes shining.

  “She really is growing up fast, huh?”

  The three of them stand together in that moment — a perfect triangle of warmth, magic, and family.

  [CAMERA PANS OUT — THROUGH THE WINDOW]

  Outside, the trees shimmer. The breeze dances.

  But deep in the woods... just for a second... something flickers.

  A shimmer in the air. A warping shadow that doesn’t belong.

  Then it vanishes.