Chapter 84- Ariel dreamt once more

  Ariel dreamt once more.

  It was an oddly familiar feeling. She hadn't used to dream often, and even when she did, she was never one to remember them.

  But since then… dreams had become something else.

  It was how she'd met Sol the first time. And so whenever she dreamt now, whenever she woke with the memory still clinging to her like smoke, a quiet, sinking weight settled in her chest.

  This dream was different, though.

  She felt it immediately, the wrongness of her own body. Too small. Too light. Her legs were shorter, her steps uneven in that clumsy, reckless way she barely remembered. She looked down at her hands.

  Small hands. A child's hands.

  Before she could make sense of it, she was already moving.

  Her feet carried her forward at a dead sprint, a bright, unstoppable grin stretched wide across her face, The pale marble underfoot blurred beneath her. The world rushed past, warm, golden, and loud with the sounds of a busy morning.

  Her bare feet slapped against pale marble, and she nearly tripped, her foot catching the uneven lip of a stone step —

  Someone caught her.

  Steady and gentle. The grip closed around her arm before she could fall, pulling her upright with practiced ease.

  Ariel looked up.

  The woman was older and very beautiful. She wore a long white robe that draped softly over one shoulder, its hem kissing the marble floor. Her hair was gold, loose and catching the light, and her eyes were a warm, ordinary brown.

  She smiled.

  "Watch yourself, Aurora."

  Her voice was gentle, laced with the faintest laugh at the edges.

  Aurora.

  Ariel — Aurora — looked up at her, nodded once with all the seriousness a child could manage, and then grinned again.

  And ran.

  Slightly more carefully this time.

  The world opened up around her.

  Pale and silver stone buildings stretched along a field and wide path, their walls carved in clean, simple lines, their rooftops catching the sun in sheets of white and gold.

  People moved in every direction, dressed in the same white robes, the same gold hair catching the morning light like they'd all been woven from the same cloth. They carried things: baskets of fruit, bundles of grain, tools, and timber balanced across strong shoulders. A woman bartered over a bolt of pale cloth. Two men hoisted a beam between them, calling out to each other in short, even tones.

  She wove between all of them like water.

  Most moved on instinct, stepping aside just in time, their paths parting around her without breaking. A few turned as she passed, their expressions lifting into quiet smiles. An older man shook his head

  She didn't stop.

  She ran harder.

  Ariel knew this feeling. It reminded her of Solvara.

  Painfully so.

  She pushed the thought down before it could take root, and let the dream carry her forward.

  Aurora ran until the path opened up, and then she stopped.

  The temple rose before her.

  She could still smell something faintly clean about the stone, the way new construction held a kind of scent that the older buildings slowly lost.

  It was tall. Taller than it had any right to be for something so new, its upper floors reaching high enough that the light seemed to gather around them.

  A broad crowd had gathered at its base, clusters — laughing, talking, gesturing widely with their hands. Aurora had never been to the higher floors.

  She knew it was there. Knew the basement existed too, somewhere beneath all that stone and warmth. But she'd never gone. Some part of her, even as a child, understood that certain places werent meant for her.

  She paused at the entrance.

  Just for a moment.

  Then the smile found its way back, unstoppable, and she ran.

  The sound reached her before anything else.

  Music — Drums, fast, steady rhythm that she felt in her ribs. It poured out from the open doors of the temple.

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  Aurora stepped inside and went still.

  Light poured in through the open center of the roof, falling in a wide column that turned everything it touched to gold. Pale stone glowed warm. Dust floated lazily

  And the dancers.

  They filled the floor in sweeping, rhythmic motion, their feet tapping the stone in perfect time with the drums. Boys and girls, hands intertwined, turning and laughing, their voices rising and falling between the beats.

  Their masks Gold. Every one of them, shaped into the faces of creatures she knew and some she didn't.

  A lizard, its jaw stretched wide in something between a smile and a snarl. A crow, sleek and angular, its beak tilted skyward. A worm, she almost laughed at that one, round and simple and somehow dignified. Twins in matching fox masks moved in perfect mirror, every step one's echo of the other's. And beyond them, shapes she couldn't begin to name: things with too many angles, masks that seemed to shift when she looked at them from the corner of her eye.

  They danced past her in a blur of gold and color, and for a moment, Aurora only watched.

  Then a girl broke from the crowd.

  She crossed the distance in three quick steps, mask tilted with something like delight — and before Aurora could do more, she was lifted clean off the ground and set on the girl's shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  The music didn't stop. Neither did the dancing.

  Aurora laughed

  She her palms together, clapping in rhythm, her small body swaying with the beat as the girl spun and stepped through the dancers around her. The people nearby smiled, some catching her eye over the rims of their masks, some reaching out to tap her hands as they passed.

  Eventually, she was set back down.

  Before she could find her footing, a necklace was draped over her shoulders —a delicate chain strung with lilies

  The masked girl leaned close. Her voice was low

  "Your brother is over there."

  Aurora's smile stretched wider than it already was

  She waved — a big, sweeping, graceless wave — and the masked girl laughed behind her fox face and waved back.

  Then Aurora turned and ran again, weaving toward the far side of the temple.

  It was alive in every corner. Dancers claimed the center,

  Along the edges, people had settled into quieter clusters, heads bent together in easy conversation, some with parchment and quill balanced on their knees, scratching down words she couldn't read.

  The great pillars rose around them all, and the light that fell through the open roof.

  Ariel watched it all through Aurora's eyes.

  She found her brother eventually.

  Ariel heard him before she saw him — or rather, she heard the tension first.

  Voices, low and clipped.

  A cluster of men and women had gathered in the far corner of the temple

  Aurora didn't notice any of that.

  She saw him and ran.

  The crowd parted—some barely in time— and she crossed the distance at full speed before throwing her arms around him from behind, nearly toppling them both.

  The tense murmur of conversation stuttered and died.

  Then Aurora pulled back and looked up.

  He was older. Tall, even seated, his white robe draped over his frame, His hair was gold and cut short, and his features were…

  the kind of face that people turned toward without meaning to. Striking in a way that was almost difficult to look at directly.

  But it was his eyes that made Ariels' breath catch.

  Gold. Bright, burning gold, the same shade as Ariel's own, maybe brighter,

  He looked down at his little sister, and the tension that had been sitting in the lines of his face eased, just slightly.

  He reached up and ruffled her hair.

  "Feeling better, are you?"

  His voice was warm, but underneath it, there was a tiredness that didn't belong on someone so young.

  Aurora nodded, bright and certain.

  "Yep." She straightened. "My chest doesn't hurt anymore. And I don't have those strange dreams anymore either."

  He smiled.

  "I'm glad to hear that."

  Aurora opened her mouth — but before she could, a man across the circle cleared his throat.

  Older.

  "Aureli—" he began, "about the matter we were—"

  Aureli.

  The name landed somewhere deep and strange. Ariel had heard it before. She was almost certain of it. Sol's voice.

  Aurora's brother, Aureli, turned back toward the waiting circle with an unhurried nod

  "Yes. Yes, I'm aware." He waved one hand, almost lazily. Then he looked back down at his sister.

  "Brother is busy right now." His tone was simple, "Wait for me over there."

  Aurora's face fell instantly. Her lip pushed forward in a pout.

  Aureli watched her for a moment. Then he leaned down, just slightly, and lowered his voice.

  "Please."

  The pout wavered. Held. Then dissolved.

  Aurora gave a small, dignified nod, turned on her heel, and walked with tremendous restraint — to the far side of the temple.

  Behind her, the circle of men and women watched her go, a few exchanging quiet looks before the discussion resumed, low and tight-edged once more.

  She sat against the wall and waited.

  The temple moved around her, the drums still rolling softly from somewhere closer to the center. Her small fingers toyed with the lily necklace at her chest.

  Minutes passed. Then more.

  She watched the dancers from a distance. Watched the people writing at the pillars, watched the light shift as the sun moved somewhere high above the open roof.

  Then it came.

  A feeling. Small at first, just a pressure, a tightness behind her ribs, unremarkable enough that she almost ignored it.

  Then it rose.

  Fast. Faster than she could track, climbing through her chest like something being pulled upward by force. Her hand flew to her sternum. Her fingers pressed hard against the fabric of her robe.

  She couldn't—

  It consumed her.

  Aurora hit the floor and screamed.

  The sound tore through the warm temple air, cutting clean across the music and the laughter and the low murmur of voices

  Ariel woke to agony; her thoughts were flashing

  Her breath came ragged, her hands snatching at the air before her mind even caught up to where she was. Pain flooded through her body, burning from her chest outward in waves that left her shaking against the cold ground.

  She pressed a fist to her sternum, teeth clenched.

  Her heartbeat hammered in her ears.

  Aureli.

  She stared at the light above her, chest still heaving, the name sitting heavy and unshakeable in her chest.

  She knew that name.

  She was sure of it now.