"Why am I prone to wake up in a strange foreign realm...?"
Kivas hovered above a sea with no motion.
The surface reflected nothing. Not the sky, not herself. Not even her own shadow. She glanced up—above her, the sky didn't split, nor did it swirl in chaos. It simply existed in contradiction.
On one side, the horizon burned gold beneath a rising sun. On the other, a pale moon traced silver reflections against an unlit firmament.
Night and day, stitched together along a silent seam with no boundary in between.
Between both celestial truths, there stood a single figure on the water aside from Kivas herself.
The woman was still, planted on the void-like sea with ease. Her white clothing clung to her form with deliberate grace—sleeves swaying like they breathed by the strange winds that barely created a current on the still sea.
