The air was cool and sharp with the scent of pine as Elara stood at the edge of the forest, her boots sinking into the soft earth. She’d wandered far from the lights of Okotoks, drawn by a whisper in her dreams—a call to witness something extraordinary. Above her, the night sky unfurled like a velvet cloak, studded with stars that shimmered like scattered diamonds. The silhouette of the mountain loomed in the distance, its peak kissed by a faint glow, while the evergreens stood tall and silent, their branches swaying in a breeze that felt alive with secrets. Elara tilted her head back, her breath catching at the beauty of it all. The sky, oh, the sky—she was a marvel, a tapestry of mystery that seemed to hum with ancient magic.
Elara had always been a dreamer, the kind of person who saw stories in the rustle of leaves and heard songs in the wind. But tonight felt different. The stars seemed brighter, closer, as if they were watching her. She squinted, tracing constellations she’d known since childhood—Ursa Major, Cassiopeia—but there was something new, a faint shimmer that danced between them, like threads of silver light weaving through the darkness. It was as if the sky herself was painting, her brushstrokes delicate and deliberate, crafting a masterpiece just for this moment.
She took a step forward, her hand brushing against the rough bark of a pine, and that’s when she saw it—a soft glow rising from the mountain’s peak, pulsing like a heartbeat. It wasn’t the moon; that had set hours ago. This was something else, something alive. Elara’s heart quickened as the glow began to take shape, forming a figure—a woman, or the idea of one, her form made of starlight and shadow. She hovered above the mountain, her hair a cascade of midnight, her eyes two burning embers that held the weight of eternity. The sky seemed to ripple around her, the stars flaring brighter in her presence.
