Soarele Neprihanirii — (acoustic Session) 477

Then, Elena began to sing. Her voice was pure and clear, yet carried a weight of sorrow and hope that perfectly matched the ancient lyrics.

The wooden floorboards of the small mountain chapel were cold, but the light pouring through the tall, arched windows was warm, painting long golden rectangles across the room. It was late autumn, and the air smelled of dry pine and burning beeswax. Soarele Neprihanirii (Acoustic Session) 477

David nodded, closing his eyes for a moment to find the stillness required for this particular song. He opened them and gave a small nod. Elena pressed the red recording button. Then, Elena began to sing