The Festival of Lights turned the city into a sea of fire and color. Lanterns floated down the river like drifting stars, fireworks cracked above the rooftops, and nobles and common folk alike pressed toward the towering golden tent. Tonight, every eye would be on Madame Rosa's troupe. Tonight, every whisper about Naki would be tested.
Backstage, Naki's knees shook as she chalked her hands. She wore no clown mask, no paint—only a star stitched into her costume at her temple, a symbol of the girl who had flown beyond the shadows.
Kwesi lingered near the torches, his arms folded. He had fought Rosa to stay by her side, fire in his eyes. "One word, Naks," he muttered, "and I'll set this whole tent blazing so no one can laugh at you again."
Naki smiled faintly. "No fire this time, Kwes. Tonight, I'll fly on my own."
Sky swung down beside her, smirking. "Try not to trip. It'd be a shame to lose my only rival."
"Keep watching," she said, steady now. "You might learn something."
Rosa's voice thundered through the tent. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Festival of Lights presents… Nakiya Mensah, the Flying Star!"
The crowd gasped as Naki leapt into the air, her body catching the lantern glow. But this wasn't the polished, predictable routine they expected.
She stumbled on purpose, tumbling into a comedic roll like a clown—then sprang upright into a breathtaking aerial twist. The audience laughed, then gasped, then laughed again.
Her act fused what they thought was weakness with what she knew was strength: clown comedy and dazzling acrobatics woven into one. She juggled flaming pins mid-swing, balanced on a rope while pulling exaggerated faces, then flipped into a triple spin that ended in a perfect landing.
Every "mistake" was a setup for brilliance. Every laugh paved the way for awe.
The crowd roared, rising to their feet. "Flying Star! Flying Star!"
Even the nobles pounded their jeweled hands together. Children chanted her name, their voices carrying like drums.
Sky bowed from across the rope, respect shining in his eyes. Bianca stood frozen in the wings, her smugness burned away by the thunder of the crowd.
And Rosa? For the first time, her stern expression melted into a thin, satisfied smile.
Naki raised her arms, the lanterns above painting her silhouette against the sky. Her heart soared higher than the ropes could carry her. She was no longer hiding. No longer pretending.
She was unveiled—an acrobat, a clown, a prodigy. The Flying Star.