The Name Beneath the Ashes

The sun had risen.

But it didn't feel like just another day.

It felt like a beginning.

The light poured gently over the City of First Light, bathing the rooftops and crystal towers in a golden glow. Shadows softened, corners gleamed, and every breeze that passed carried with it the hush of something sacred awakening.

At the heart of the city, Ariella—Isabelle—stood alone in the plaza, her eyes closed, her face tilted toward the warmth of the morning. The sunlight touched her gently, like it remembered her.

For the first time in years, she let it.