Nyara walked slowly along the street.
Her steps were quiet, almost like she did not want anyone to hear her. The ground under her feet was rough and dusty. Small stones pressed into her worn-out shoes, but she did not complain. She was used to it.
Everything here was always rough.The lower part of Elaris was never pretty.The houses were old and broken. Some had cracks in the walls. Some had no doors. The air smelled like smoke and something burnt. People moved around with tired faces, carrying heavy things, saying very little.Nyara looked at them as she walked.
They all looked the same.
Tired. Quiet. Forgotten.
Just like her.
She pulled her thin cloth tighter around her shoulders. The wind was not strong, but it was cold enough to touch her skin. Her long black hair moved softly behind her.
She kept walking.
But as she moved forward, something began to change.
The ground became smoother.
The houses became bigger.
Cleaner. Brighter. Nyara slowed down.
She had reached the middle line.
The place where the lower world met the upper world.
She stopped there for a moment. Her eyes lifted. And she saw it. Magic. Real magic.
A young girl, not much older than her, stood a few steps ahead. She laughed as small glowing lights danced around her fingers. The lights were soft blue, like tiny stars. They moved in circles, spinning happily in the air.
The girl clapped her hands, and the lights burst into little sparks. People around her smiled. Some even clapped.
"Beautiful," someone said.
"Yes, she's talented," another voice answered.
Nyara did not move.
She just watched.
Her chest felt tight.
Not pain.
Not exactly.
Something else.
Something heavy.
A man walked past her, carrying bags that floated beside him in the air. He did not even touch them. They followed him like they were alive.
Another woman waved her hand, and a broken cart fixed itself.
Crack. Snap. Done. Like it was nothing.
Nyara swalloed slowly.
To them, it was nothing. To her…
It was everything. Her fingers moved slightly at her side.
Just a little. She looked around quickly.
No one was watching her.
Good. Very slowly, she lifted her hand.
Her heart began to beat faster.
She had done this before.
Many times.
But maybe…
Maybe today would be different.
Maybe today it would work.
She opened her fingers.
Just a little.
"Come on…" she whispered softly.
Her voice was small.
Like she did not believe it herself.
She closed her eyes.
She tried to feel it. The magic.
Everyone said it was inside them. Like a flame. Like light.
Like something warm.
So she searched for it. Deep inside. She waited. Nothing. She tried again.
Harder this time.
Her fingers shook.
"Please…" she whispered.
For a second
Just one second
She thought she felt something.
A tiny spark.
So small.
Her eyes opened quickly.
Hope filled them.
But then
Nothing happened. No light. No glow. No spark. Her hand stayed empty.Still.Useless.
The hope in her eyes slowly broke.
Like glass.
She stared at her hand.
It looked normal.
Too normal.
Her fingers slowly closed.
She lowered her hand.
Her chest hurt now.
Yes.
Now it was pain.
A soft laugh came from behind her.
Nyara froze.
"Oh… look," a voice said.
"Is she trying again?"
Another laugh.
"Why does she even try?"
Nyara did not turn.
She knew those voices.
She did not need to look.
Her shoulders became stiff.
Her hands curled slightly.
"Maybe she thinks today is her lucky day," another voice said, mocking.
"Poor thing," someone added, not sounding kind at all.
Nyara forced herself to move.
One step.
Then another.
She walked past them.
She did not look at them.
She did not speak.
She just walked.
Faster now.
Her heart was beating hard.
Her ears felt hot.
She could still hear them laughing behind her.
Every step felt heavier.
But she did not stop.
She kept walking until their voices became quiet.
Then gone.
Finally.
She slowed down again.
Her breathing was uneven.
She pressed her hand against her chest.
It still hurt.
Not from running.
From something else.
She looked back once.
The upper district was shining in the distance.
Bright.
Beautiful.
Full of magic.
She looked down at her hand again.
Still nothing.
Her fingers tightened into a fist.
"Why…" she whispered.
But there was no answer.
There was never an answer.
A soft wind passed by her.
It carried laughter from far away.
Happy laughter.
Not like the one behind her.
Nyara turned her face away.
She started walking again.
Slow.
Quiet.
Like before.
But something inside her felt heavier now.
Like a stone.
She moved toward a busier part of the street.
More people.
More noise.
More life.
But none of it touched her.
She walked like she was invisible.
Like she was not really there.
Someone bumped into her shoulder.
Hard.
Nyara stumbled a little.
"Watch where you're going," the person snapped without stopping.
She did not reply.
She just stepped aside.
A group of young mages stood ahead, talking loudly.
Nyara saw them.
She hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then she kept walking.
She had no choice.
The path went right through them.
Her steps slowed again.
Her fingers tightened.
Her eyes stayed low.
But as she got closer…
One of them turned.
And saw her.
A slow smile spread across his face.
Not a kind one.
"Hey…" he said.
Nyara's heart dropped.
The others turned too.
They followed his gaze.
And then
They saw her.
Nyara stopped walking.
Just for a moment.
The air around her felt different now.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
She knew what was coming.
She always knew.
Her fingers curled tighter at her sides.
Her breathing slowed.
Not because she was calm.
Because she was preparing.
The boy stepped forward slightly.
"Look who it is," he said, his voice full of amusement.
Nyara said nothing.
She kept her eyes down.
But inside…
Something small shifted.
Not power.
Not magic.
Just a feeling.
A mix of fear…
And something else.
Something closer to anger.
The group laughed softly.
And just like that
The moment was set.
The group of young mages looked at her like she was something strange.
Not like a person.
Like a joke.
The boy who spoke first took another step closer. He was taller than her. His clothes were clean and bright. A small glow danced around his fingers, like he was playing with his magic.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
His voice was calm, but not kind.
Nyara did not answer.
She kept her eyes down.
She just wanted to pass.
That was all.
"Did you not hear him?" a girl said from behind him. Her voice was sharp. "He asked you a question."
Nyara swallowed.
"I… I am just going," she said quietly.
Her voice was soft.
Almost too soft.
The boy tilted his head a little.
"Just going?" he repeated.
The others laughed.
"Going where?" another one said. "To try magic again?"
More laughter.
Nyara felt her chest tighten.
"I said I am going," she repeated, still not looking at them.
She took a small step forward.
Trying to pass.
But the boy moved to block her.
Fast.
Too fast.
Nyara stopped again.
Her hands slowly curled into fists.
"Show us," he said.
Nyara looked up a little.
Her eyes met his for a second.
"Show you… what?" she asked.
He smiled.
A slow, mocking smile.
"Your magic."
The group laughed again.
Nyara shook her head slightly.
"I don't have..."
"We know," the girl cut in quickly. "That is why it is funny."
Another one stepped closer.
"Maybe today it will come out," he said. "Maybe if you try harder."
Nyara took a small step back.
"I don't want to," she said.
Her voice was shaking now.
The boy's smile faded a little.
Not into anger.
Into something colder.
"Do it," he said.
Not loud.
But firm.
Nyara's heart began to beat faster.
"I said I don't..."
Before she could finish, something pushed her.
Hard.
She stumbled forward.
Her foot caught on the ground, and she almost fell.
The group laughed louder now.
"Careful!" someone said, pretending to sound worried.
"Maybe she will fall and magic will come out," another joked.
Nyara caught herself before hitting the ground.
Her hands were shaking now.
Not from cold.
From something else.
She straightened slowly.
Her face felt hot.
Her eyes burned.
But she did not cry.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
"Please…" she said quietly. "Let me go."
The girl stepped forward now.
She looked Nyara up and down.
Then she lifted her hand.
A soft glow formed around her fingers.
Before Nyara could move
Splash.
Water hit her.
Cold.
Sudden.
Nyara gasped.
Her clothes became wet instantly. The water ran down her face, her hair, her body.
The group burst into laughter.
"Oops," the girl said, smiling. "My magic slipped."
Nyara stood there.
Frozen.
Water dripped from her chin to the ground.
Her hands slowly tightened again.
Her heart felt like it was breaking.
But something else was there too.
Something small.
Something growing.
Anger.
"You should thank her," the boy said. "Now you look clean."
More laughter.
People nearby had started to look.
Some stopped walking.
Some whispered.
But no one helped.
No one stepped in.
Nyara noticed that.
Of course they would not.
They never did.
She wiped her face slowly with her hand.
Her fingers were cold.
Her eyes stayed down.
"I just want to go," she said again.
This time, her voice was lower.
Quieter.
But heavier.
The boy watched her carefully.
Then he stepped even closer.
Too close.
Nyara could see the glow in his eyes.
"You are really useless," he said.
His voice was no longer playful.
It was serious now.
Sharp.
"People like you should not even be here."
Those words hit harder than the water.
Nyara's breath caught.
For a second, everything felt quiet.
Even the laughter.
Even the noise around them.
Just those words.
People like you should not be here.
Her chest hurt.
Deep.
Her fingers trembled.
The anger inside her grew a little more.
Still small.
But stronger than before.
The boy lifted his hand again.
Magic gathered in his palm.
A soft light.
But this time…
It did not look playful.
"Let's see if you can feel this," he said.
Nyara's eyes widened slightly.
She took a step back.
"No…" she said.
But he did not stop.
The light in his hand grew brighter.
The air around them felt tight.
Heavy.
Nyara's heart raced.
Her body tensed.
She did not know what he would do.
But she knew it would hurt.
"Stop."
The voice came suddenly.
Strong.
Clear.
Not from Nyara.
Everyone froze.
The light in the boy's hand flickered.
Nyara turned her head quickly.
A guard was walking toward them.
His face was hard.
His steps were slow but firm.
The group of mages stepped back a little.
The boy lowered his hand.
The light disappeared.
The guard stopped in front of them.
He looked at the group first.
Then at Nyara.
His eyes stayed on her a little longer.
Nyara felt her chest tighten again.
For a second…
Just a small second…
She thought maybe
Maybe he would help.
Maybe he would say something.
Maybe he would stop them.
The guard sighed.
Then he spoke.
"All of you," he said. "Enough noise."
The group nodded quickly.
"Yes, sir," the boy said.
The guard then looked at Nyara again.
His eyes were not kind.
Not angry either.
Just… empty.
"You," he said.
Nyara straightened a little.
Her heart beat faster again.
"Go home," he said. "And prepare yourself."
Nyara blinked.
"Prepare…?" she repeated softly.
"The Ceremony of Worth is tonight," the guard said. "Do not make a scene there like this."
The group behind him laughed quietly again.
Nyara felt it.
Every sound.
Every look.
The guard turned away.
Like nothing important had happened.
"Everyone, move," he added as he walked off.
The crowd slowly began to move again.
The moment was over.
Just like that.
Nyara stood there.
Wet.
Cold.
Silent.
The group of mages looked at her one more time.
The boy smirked.
"Do not be late tonight," he said. "We want to see the nothing girl again."
They laughed as they walked away.
Nyara did not move.
Not yet.
Her hands slowly relaxed.
Then tightened again.
Her eyes dropped to the ground.
Water still dripped from her clothes.
Her chest felt heavy.
But the anger inside her…
It was still there.
Small.
But alive.
She took a slow breath.
Then another.
Finally, she moved.
One step.
Then another.
She walked away from the place.
But the words followed her.
The laughter followed her.
And now…
The ceremony waited for her too.
Nyara walked away from the street.
Her clothes were still wet. The cold stayed on her skin. She did not try to fix it.
People passed by her.
Some looked.
Some did not.
No one spoke to her.
She kept walking.
Her steps were slow at first, then steady.
The noise from the market faded behind her.
The buildings around her changed again.
They became quieter.
Stronger.
This part of the city belonged to officials and trained mages.
The roads were wide and clean.
There were guards at different points.
They stood straight and watched everything.
Nyara lowered her head as she passed.
She did not want attention.
Ahead of her was a large stone gate.
Two guards stood beside it.
Behind the gate was the training hall.
That was where young mages learned and practiced.
Nyara stopped a few steps away.
She looked at the gate.
Students walked in and out.
Some laughed.
Some talked about the ceremony.
"The Ceremony of Worth is tonight," one said.
"I will show them my fire skill," another replied.
"I hope I get placed in the upper circle," a third added.
Nyara listened.
Her chest felt tight again.
She took a step closer.
Then another.
One of the guards noticed her.
His eyes moved over her quickly.
From her wet clothes to her face.
Then he frowned.
"Stop there," he said.
Nyara froze.
She did not move again.
The other guard turned his head.
He looked at her too.
"What do you want?" the first guard asked.
Nyara swallowed.
"I… I just came to see," she said.
Her voice was low.
The guard's face did not change.
"This place is not for you," he said.
Nyara looked at the ground.
"I know," she answered.
"Then leave," he said.
Simple.
Clear.
Like it was nothing.
Nyara nodded slowly.
But she did not turn yet.
Her feet stayed where they were.
The second guard stepped forward.
"You heard him," he said. "Do not stand here."
Nyara lifted her head a little.
"The ceremony…" she started.
The first guard cut her off.
"Everyone attends," he said. "Even you."
His tone was flat.
No kindness.
No interest.
Nyara's fingers moved slightly at her side.
"I want to try," she said.
The guards looked at each other for a second.
Then the second guard gave a short laugh.
"Try what?" he asked.
Nyara did not answer.
The first guard spoke again.
"You already know the result," he said.
His eyes stayed on her.
Cold.
Steady.
"Do not waste time," he added. "Yours or ours."
Nyara felt something drop inside her.
Like a weight.
Heavy.
She nodded again.
Slowly.
"I understand," she said.
But her voice was softer now.
The guards stepped back to their place.
Like the moment was over.
Like she did not matter.
Students continued to pass through the gate.
No one stopped.
No one asked anything.
Nyara stood there for a few seconds more.
Then she turned.
She walked away from the gate.
Her steps felt heavier than before.
The road ahead looked long.
Her eyes stayed down.
Her mind was not calm.
The words stayed with her.
"You already know the result."
She repeated them in her head.
Again.
And again.
Her hands slowly formed fists.
Then relaxed.
Then formed again.
Her breathing became uneven.
She kept walking.
Past the clean roads.
Past the guards.
Back toward the quieter parts of the city.
The noise became softer again.
The air felt colder.
The sky above was turning slowly.
The day was moving forward.
Time was not waiting.
The ceremony was coming.
Nyara stopped walking.
She stood alone on the side of the road.
No one near her.
No voices.
No laughter.
Just silence.
She looked at her hand.
Slowly, she raised it.
Her fingers opened.
She stared at her palm.
Empty.
Like always.
Her chest tightened.
"I want to try," she whispered again.
But this time…
There was no one to hear it.
No one to answer.
No one to stop her.
Her hand stayed in the air for a moment.
Then slowly, she lowered it.
Her shoulders dropped.
The weight inside her did not leave.
It stayed.
Growing.
Quiet.
She took a deep breath.
Then another.
Her eyes lifted slightly.
Ahead of her was a narrow path.
It led away from the city.
Toward a quieter place.
Toward somewhere no one would see her.
Nyara looked at it for a moment.
Then she started walking toward it.
Nyara walked along the narrow path.
The city was behind her now.
The noise was gone.
No voices.
No laughter.
Only the sound of her steps on the ground.
The path was dry and uneven. Small plants grew on the sides. The air felt still.
She did not see anyone.
That was what she wanted.
She kept walking until she reached a quiet place.
There was a broken wall there. It looked old and forgotten. Part of it had fallen to the ground. The rest stood at an angle.
Nyara stopped.
She looked around.
No one.
She moved closer and sat on a piece of stone.
Her body felt tired.
Her clothes were still wet. The cold stayed with her.
She did not care.
Her hands rested on her knees.
For a moment, she said nothing.
She just sat there.
Her eyes stayed on the ground.
Then slowly, her thoughts began to rise.
The voices from earlier came back.
The laughter.
The words.
"You are useless."
"You already know the result."
Her chest tightened.
She closed her eyes.
Her breathing became slow.
She tried to push the thoughts away.
But they did not go.
They stayed.
She opened her eyes again.
The ground in front of her looked empty.
Like her hand.
Like her life.
She lowered her head.
"Why…" she said quietly.
Her voice sounded weak.
She swallowed.
Her throat felt dry.
"I try," she continued. "I really try."
Her fingers moved slightly on her knees.
"I watch them… I do the same things."
Her voice shook a little.
"But nothing comes."
She pressed her lips together.
Her eyes started to burn.
She tried to hold it.
She did not want to cry.
Not again.
But the feeling inside her grew.
It became too much.
A tear fell.
Then another.
She quickly wiped her face.
But more came.
Her shoulders moved slightly.
She bent forward.
Her hands covered her face.
"I don't understand," she said.
Her voice broke.
"Why am I like this?"
The question stayed in the air.
No answer came.
There was never an answer.
She stayed like that for a while.
Crying quietly.
No one saw her.
No one heard her.
After some time, the tears slowed.
Her breathing became steady again.
She lowered her hands.
Her face felt warm.
Her eyes looked tired.
She wiped them again.
Then she sat up straight.
Her back rested against the broken wall.
She looked up at the sky.
It was wide and clear.
Soft light spread across it.
People said magic came from the world itself.
From the sky.
From the air.
From inside.
Nyara looked at her hands again.
Slowly, she lifted one.
Her fingers opened.
She stared at her palm.
Empty.
Still.
She waited.
Nothing happened.
She closed her hand.
Then opened it again.
Still nothing.
Her jaw tightened.
A small breath left her.
"I am tired," she said quietly.
Her voice was calm now.
Not crying.
Not loud.
Just honest.
"I am tired of trying."
The words felt heavy.
But they were true.
She lowered her hand.
Her eyes moved back to the ground.
For a moment, she thought about leaving.
Going back.
Hiding.
Not going to the ceremony.
Not facing anyone.
Not hearing more words.
But another thought came.
The ceremony.
Everyone would be there.
Everyone would watch.
If she did not go…
It would not change anything.
They would still talk.
They would still see her the same way.
She took a slow breath.
Then another.
Her fingers pressed against the stone beside her.
"I will go," she said.
Her voice was quiet.
But steady.
"I will try one more time."
The words stayed with her.
She did not know why she said them.
But she did.
She pushed herself up slowly.
Her legs felt weak, but she stood.
She looked at the broken wall one last time.
Then she turned away.
The path back to the city was still there.
Waiting.
Nyara took a step.
Then another.
She began to walk back.
The quiet place stayed behind her.
But the feeling inside her changed a little.
The sadness was still there.
The pain was still there.
But now…
There was also something else.
A small piece of hope.
Very small.
But not gone.
She held onto it as she walked.
The ceremony was coming.
And this time…
She would not run.
Nyara walked back toward the city.
The path behind her became smaller as she moved forward.
The quiet place was gone.
The noise slowly returned.
Voices.
Steps.
Movement.
She entered the lower streets again.
People were moving faster now.
More than before.
Some carried clothes.
Some carried food.
Others spoke with excitement.
Nyara noticed the change.
Something was different.
She slowed her steps.
She listened.
"The ceremony will start soon," a woman said.
"I heard the High Arcanist will be there," a man replied.
"They say new talents will be chosen tonight," another voice added.
Nyara looked at them.
Her eyes followed the speakers.
They looked happy.
Hopeful.
She kept walking.
More voices came.
"My son has been training for this," someone said with pride.
"She will show her power today," another answered.
Nyara's chest felt tight again.
But not like before.
This time, the feeling was mixed.
She stopped near a small group.
They did not notice her.
"I heard something," one of them said quietly.
"What?" another asked.
"Sometimes… some people awaken late."
Nyara's head lifted slightly.
Her eyes focused on them.
"Late?" the second person asked.
"Yes," the first said. "Not everyone shows power early. Some change during the ceremony."
"Is that true?" the third asked.
"I don't know," the first replied. "But it has happened before."
Nyara stood still.
Her heart began to beat faster.
She did not move.
She listened closely.
"It is rare," the second person said.
"Very rare," the first agreed.
"But not impossible."
The words stayed in the air.
Not impossible.
Nyara felt something move inside her.
Small.
But strong enough to notice.
Her fingers moved slightly at her side.
She looked at her hand again.
Then back at the group.
They continued talking.
But she was no longer listening.
Her mind held onto those words.
Not impossible.
She took a slow breath.
Then another.
Her chest rose and fell.
The tight feeling inside her began to change.
It was still there.
But now, something else stood beside it.
Hope.
Very small.
But real.
She started walking again.
Her steps were a little faster now.
Her eyes lifted more.
She looked around as she moved.
The city looked different.
Not brighter.
But less heavy.
People were still the same.
The streets were still rough.
Nothing had changed outside.
But inside her…
Something shifted.
She reached a small water basin near the side of the road.
She stopped.
She looked at her reflection.
Her hair was still wet.
Her face looked tired.
Her eyes looked red.
She stared at herself for a moment.
Then she straightened her back.
She wiped her face again with her hand.
Slowly.
Carefully.
She fixed her hair as much as she could.
It was not perfect.
But it was better.
She looked at herself again.
Then she spoke.
Softly.
"I will try."
Her voice was quiet.
But clear.
She nodded once.
Like she believed it.
Then she turned away from the water.
She continued walking.
The crowd grew thicker as she moved closer to the center.
More people.
More voices.
More movement.
The ceremony was close now.
She could feel it.
The air carried tension.
Excitement.
Expectation.
Nyara walked through it all.
Her heart beat faster with each step.
Her hands felt cold.
But she did not stop.
The words stayed with her.
Not impossible.
She held onto them.
Tight.
Like they could disappear if she let go.
She reached a wider road.
From there, she could see the large hall in the distance.
Tall.
Bright.
Full of people moving in and out.
Nyara stopped for a moment.
She looked at it.
Her chest rose slowly.
This was it.
Tonight.
Everything would be decided.
She did not know what would happen.
She did not know what she would face.
But she knew one thing.
She would not hide.
She would stand there.
Like everyone else.
She took a deep breath.
Then she started walking again.
Toward the hall.
Toward the ceremony.
Toward whatever was waiting for her.
Nyara walked toward the hall.
The road was wide.
People filled every side.
Voices mixed together.
Some loud.
Some soft.
Everyone moved in the same direction.
Toward the ceremony.
Nyara stayed close to the edge of the road.
She did not want to touch anyone.
She did not want to be noticed.
Her steps were careful.
Slow but steady.
She kept her eyes forward.
The hall grew larger as she moved closer.
Tall walls.
Bright lights.
Guards stood at the entrance.
They watched the crowd.
No one stopped her this time.
No one spoke to her.
She passed through the gate.
Inside, the space opened wide.
The ground was smooth.
The air felt different.
Cool.
Still.
People stood in groups.
Some laughed.
Some talked about their skills.
Small sparks of magic appeared here and there.
Nyara looked around.
Her eyes moved from one group to another.
She felt small.
Out of place.
She kept walking.
She found a quiet spot near the side of the hall.
Not too close to the center.
Not too far.
She stopped there.
Her hands rested at her sides.
She tried to stay calm.
But her heart moved fast.
She could hear it in her chest.
Around her, others prepared.
One girl practiced with light in her hands.
A boy lifted a small object without touching it.
Another made a soft flame appear and disappear.
Nyara watched.
Her eyes followed every movement.
Her fingers moved slightly.
Then stopped.
She lowered her hand again.
She did not try.
Not here.
Not yet.
She took a slow breath.
Then another.
She told herself to wait.
Time passed.
More people entered the hall.
The space became full.
The noise grew.
But Nyara stayed still.
Quiet.
Watching.
Not far from her, someone else stood.
He did not speak.
He did not move much.
His eyes were on the crowd.
Then they stopped on her.
Prince Kaelen stood among the people.
But no one knew who he was.
His clothes were simple.
Nothing bright.
Nothing royal.
He looked like any other person.
But his eyes were different. Sharp. Careful.
He watched everything. When his gaze fell on Nyara, he did not look away.
He studied her.
Her stillness. Her silence. Her face. He noticed her wet clothes. Her tired eyes.
The way she kept to herself.
She did not look like the others.
She did not move like them.
She did not speak like them.
There was no magic around her.
Not even a small spark.
But something felt strange.
He could not explain it.
It was not power.
Not something he could see.
But something he felt.
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
He kept watching.
Nyara shifted her weight a little.
She felt something. Not a touch. Not a sound. Just a feeling. Like someone was looking at her.
She turned her head slowly. Her eyes moved across the crowd. Then they met his. For a moment, both of them stayed still.
Nyara blinked. She did not know him. He looked normal.
Like everyone else. But his gaze did not move.
It stayed on her. Not mocking. Not kind. Just… watching.
Nyara felt unsure. She looked away first. Her eyes dropped to the ground. Her fingers moved again. Then stopped.
Kaelen continued to look at her. He noticed how she avoided his eyes. How she stood apart from the others. How she did not try to show anything.
No magic. No skill. Nothing. That made her different.
And that difference caught his attention. He looked around once. Then back at her.
Still there, quite, alone... A small thought formed in his mind.
Why is she here?
He did not ask it out loud. He just watched. Nyara stayed where she was. She did not look at him again. But the feeling did not leave.
She knew someone had seen her. Not like the others. Not to laugh. Not to mock. Just to see.
That made her uneasy. She shifted again. Her breathing slowed.
She tried to focus on something else. The ceremony.
That was why she came. Not for anyone else. Not for any eyes. Just for one chance. She lifted her head slightly. Her gaze moved toward the center of the hall.
People were gathering there now. Guards moved into place. The noise began to settle.
The moment was getting closer. Kaelen followed her gaze. He looked toward the center too.
Then back at her. He did not know why he kept watching. But he did not stop.
Something about her stayed in his mind.
Quiet. But strong. Nyara stood still.
Her heart beat steady now. Her hands rested at her sides.
Her eyes stayed forward. The ceremony was about to begin
End of chapter 1