In a garden, too large to be called merely a garden, yet a little too sparse to be considered a forest — small, beautiful trees stood scattered here and there, their leaves whispering faintly in the breeze.
Roses bloomed in measured clusters, splashes of crimson, white, and soft pink breaking the green. In the very center, long tables had been set out, draped in fine cloth and laden with an array of foods.
Crowds of young people, even children, moved around in small groups, laughter and chatter drifting between them.
Yet amid this lively gathering, one table stood isolated.
There, alone, stood Noel.
No one dared to approach him, despite his small stature. And Noel, perfectly fine with the distance, kept himself busy sampling everything the table had to offer.
Every now and then, his gaze wandered to a dome-like building some distance away — the place where his father was.
