Aria
Darren’s arm stayed firmly around my shoulders as we walked into the village, his touch steadying me as my boots crunched softly against the snow-covered path. The crisp air nipped at my cheeks, but it wasn’t the cold that had my heart racing.
It was the stares.
They came from everywhere. Windows opened, doors creaked, and heads turned as we passed. Like we were some kind of spectacle. And I supposed we were; had a human ever even set foot in this place before?
The houses themselves were breathtaking—historical but with a modern touch, with steep roofs and intricate wooden carvings along the beams, like something out of a fairy tale. The architectural details felt ancient and steeped in history, and yet the solar panels discreetly embedded on rooftops and the soft hum
