4 months later:
Polaris had never been so quiet as it had been tonight. The mountain breathed beneath our feet, ancient and patient, its stone worn smooth by centuries of wind and stars. This was the highest point of the city—where the world felt close enough to touch the heavens, where Kael’s mother had chosen to rest when her strength had finally failed her. No walls. No throne. No symbols of war or rule.
Only sky.
Only night.
Only us.
The ceremony had been our idea—ours, not bound by old Nyxryn law alone, nor shaped entirely by human tradition. Something woven between worlds, just like us. Lyra had called it dangerous. Calen had called it unprecedented. Orion had called it ‘about damn time.’
I stood at the edge of the clearing, barefoot against cool stone, breathing in pine and st
