“Mom... I’m here.”
That voice echoed through my spiritual plane—gentle, clear, like a ripple on a still lake. It was faint, divine... but unmistakably real.
My mind lit up with threads of silver.
He had answered me.
Caelum—my child. The one about to be born under moonlight and fire.
Lunara stretched out her hand. A soft sphere of silver light enveloped me and Caelum.
“He has no name. Without one, his soul cannot anchor. He floats between spirit and flesh, between realms.”
I looked up at her.
“He already has a name.”
“But you have not offered it to the Moon.”
Her voice was calm. Absolute.
I nodded. “Caelum. It means ‘sky.’”
Lunara closed her eyes. Silver flames danced through her hair.
“So be it. The child of the heavens shall be inscribed into the Book of Moons.”
The ceiling
