The morning light spilled over the capital of Aurora, painting the roofs and streets with golden warmth. The citizens stirred from their sleep, but something in the air felt... different. The sky itself shimmered faintly. When they looked up, they gasped — a vast, transparent circle stretched across the heavens like an ethereal dome. It glowed with faint blue and white hues, refracting the sunlight into millions of soft rays. It wasn't an illusion. It was real.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The marketplace stood still, the carriages paused mid-path, and children pointed skyward with wide, awed eyes.
Then someone whispered, "The barrier… it's holy light."
And another voice followed, trembling with emotion. "It's the Empress-to-be's power. It must be Lady Shellia!"
That name spread through the crowd like wind through fire. Lady Shellia.
