The City of First Light was quiet.
Not silent.
Quiet, like breath held in anticipation. Like the hush before revelation.
In the days since the sky named Eleanor with a star, the city had shifted again. The echoes of that night still lingered in the crystal towers, in the glowing stone paths, in the way the buildings seemed to lean inward, as if listening.
But tonight, the city waited not for Eleanor.
It waited for Ariella.
Not because she was forgotten.
But because she was finally ready.
Ariella's Walk
She walked alone.
No escort.
No Leo at her side.
Not because she wasn't loved, but because this path was hers.
She stepped through the spiraling gardens and across the dream-formed bridges with measured grace, her long coat dusted with frost-thread, her eyes carrying the weight of a thousand choices.
