That was the last comforting thought Miya had before Lily returned with a tray full of delicious foods.
The scent of warm spices and honey filled the tent. Nestled among the dishes was a delicate purple pastry, its surface dusted with silver sugar. Miya bit into it, and her eyes widened — it tasted like a blueberry and a sweet potato had somehow fallen in love and had a child.
Miya glanced up, brushing crumbs from her lips. "Lily," she said, her voice soft, careful. "I don't quite remember anything except for the time I fell from the Sky Tower. So… can you tell me anything to help me remember?"
She lied.
Lily blinked, startled. Her hands trembled slightly as she set the tray down, porcelain clinking against silver. Then her expression softened, and she lowered herself onto a small stool beside the bed.
"Oh, my lady…" she murmured, her voice soft as silk. "Of course. I should have thought of that sooner."
She pulled a small stool beside my bed and sat, folding her hands in her lap. Her eyes flicked toward the window, where the twin moons hung low in the lavender sky, casting pale light across the stone floor.
"You were born in Elarion, the heart of Aetherra," Lily began. "The capital that floats above the world, where the winds carry the voices of the stars. That's where the Sky Tower stands — the last remnant of the Starborne Court."
Miya tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "And… Aetherra?"
"Aetherra is our realm," Lily said, her voice taking on the rhythm of a well-worn tale. "It's shaped like the Veiled Sigil, a sacred star of five points. Each point is a Dominion, ruled by its own laws, its own magic. Solara, Virelle, Noctis, Caelith, and Thorne. Each one tied to a celestial element — flame, bloom, shadow, storm, and stone."
"And the Sky Tower?"
"It was once the seat of the Starborne — those chosen by the stars themselves. Not by blood, but by fate. When a child was born under a Celestial Convergence, they were marked. Not with a crown, but with light. They were said to hear the world's breath, to speak with the sky."
Miya's gaze dropped to her hands. "And I was one of them?"
Lily hesitated. "You were… different. Born under a silent sky. No stars. No signs. The priests called it a stillbirth of fate. They said you were a shadow of what should have been."
Miya didn't respond. She simply reached for another pastry, her fingers steady despite the weight of the words.
"But you were kind," Lily added quickly. "Gentle. You never asked for power. You never demanded anything. You just… listened.
She continued, "there's a tale they never let us tell. About the first Alessia — the one you were named after. She wasn't just a Starborne. She was the storm that broke the sky. When the Rift of Varn tore open and the Dreadborn spilled into the world, it was she who stood at the edge of the breach. Not to seal it… but to bind it to herself. They say she took its curse into her own blood, so no one else would have to bear it."
"So I'm named after someone named Alessia", as Miya murmured silently.
Lily's voice trembled now, her hands clenched in her lap.
"They called it mercy. Said she was too dangerous to live. So they buried her beneath the ruins of the Sky Tower — sealed her away with the very magic she used to save them."
Alessia's breath caught, but she masked it with a sip of tea.
"Some say she never died," Lily whispered. "That her soul was too stubborn to fade. That she's still waiting… for the world to remember her."
Outside, the wind stirred the trees. The twin moons drifted higher, casting their silver and gold light across the starry night.
And somewhere, deep beneath the roots of the world, something ancient stirred.