PREVIEW

...

Stone pillars rose like frozen hymns, carved not with scripture but with intentional silence—smooth, blank surfaces that invited no memory. A place constructed to forget. But silence, when burdened with too much longing, begins to echo.

And today, that echo wore Celestia’s face.

She knelt before an altar that had never known a god. No incense burned, no prayers filled the air. Only the sound of her breath—ragged, desperate, searching. Her golden hair hung like wilted lig ...

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