El wakes before dawn, long before the first birds stir. For a moment she lies still, staring at the faint outline of the ceiling, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on her chest like a stone. Her body feels too heavy to move, her thoughts too loud to silence.
Today is the ceremony.
She sits up slowly, pulling her knees to her chest. The room is cold, but she barely feels it. Her mind drifts to Eldin’s words from yesterday — soft, warm, hopeful in a way she hasn’t felt in years. You are meant to be coveted… you are rare… you lead without fear. She clings to them like a thread, but even that thread feels thin this morning.
She forces herself to stand. Her legs tremble.
She moves through her morning routine mechanically — washing her face, brushing her hair, straightening the bla
