Misfortune drove them from their native home. They gathered everything they had: old belongings, treasures, memories, and warm stories their hearts had cherished. And they set out on the road, filled with hope for a new beginning.
Their first path led through dark forests, where the trees whispered mysterious tales and the shadows swayed as if alive. The wayfarers walked carefully, yet their hearts knew no fear, for they held each other’s hands firmly. Then they sailed in boats along shining rivers and across stormy seas, where the waves played with them like great cats, and the winds spoke of distant lands.
In cities where the streets were noisy and full of light, the wayfarers met people with different destinies and learned of others’ joys and sorrows. In enchanted forests, they found creatures who could speak and sing, offering them advice and protection. Each meeting made their journey richer — not with gold, but with the richness of the heart.
Days turned into nights, and nights into new dawns. Though the roads were long, the wayfarers did not lose hope. They searched for a place where they could live in peace, where their hearts would find warmth and safety. And one day, as the sun rose over a quiet valley, they understood: their home was where they were together, where love protected them from any misfortune.
And so the wayfarers found their new home, not in stone or brick, but in one another’s hearts, where every sunrise brought peace and joy.