Before they were NFTs. Before they had titles and unlockable secrets. Before they belonged to anyone else — these stories belonged to me.
They were born in Russian, in quiet hours, with tea and soft light. I didn’t write them for the world — just to stay whole.
Now, I’d like to share a few of them. As they came to me. As they were first spoken.
These are the stories from Lavillia’s other side. Not for collecting. Just for remembering.
УтроДевочка и ВолшебствоПисьмо в БутылкеДуша ХудожникСчастьеМузаИдеяИсполнитель желанийЖар ПтицаРозаНадеждаЭхоСвой путьДомКафе УютноеЛисье чутьеДолгий путьЛавка Золотых Кристаллов