A Day Beneath Mortal Skies
Floating up behind the dunes, dawn painted the sky in soft amber light. Morning crept across the sands of the Yellow Desert like a quiet promise. Golden rays stretched long shadows where night had just been.
Warmth began to spread over the sand as night's chill slipped away. At Ashford City's edge stood Leon, his dark robe trimmed with purple thread fluttering just slightly. Moving toward him were three people, different from one another, yet all demanding attention without a word. The wind carried their footsteps faintly, steady but unhurried.
Behind him stepped Selena, strands of silver-white falling past her shoulders, a robe like fresh snow hugging her narrow frame. On her hip, a pale blue band drew lines across soft contours, the opening in her garment swaying as she advanced, each stride showing glimpses of toned limbs moving without sound. Quietness lived in her gaze - yet today it flickered, awake.
