✨From the vault of Myths and Stories by Fantasy Unchained ✨

…The chandeliers burned like captive stars above them.
Music moved through the marble halls in golden waves, laughter drifting like perfume between immortals who had forgotten what it meant to fear time.

Varu’kan stood at the edge of it all, dark as midnight among constellations.

“Brother.”

The voice came warm and familiar.

He turned. White wings caught the light like dawn breaking over snow. His angelic celestial kin stepped closer, goblet in hand, smile edged with knowing amusement.

“Good to see you decided to attend,” the angel said. “I was wondering if you would.”

Varu’kan exhaled softly, eyes drifting toward the vaulted ceiling where ancient symbols were carved into stone.

“I could think of a thousand things I’d rather be doing, Sariel,” he replied. “But ignoring an invitation from our creators seemed… unwise.”

A corner of his mouth lifted.

“And I’ve no desire to test their patience tonight.”

The angel studied him carefully.

“This gathering feels misplaced,” Varu’kan continued. “Out of rhythm. Have you heard why we were summoned?”

The angel’s gaze shifted briefly across the ballroom, to where whispers gathered in clusters like gathering clouds.

“No decree has been spoken,” he said quietly. “But something vast hangs in the air. The elders are unsettled.”

Varu’kan followed his gaze. The music was bright, but beneath it lay a tension too subtle for mortals, too heavy for coincidence.

“Then we wait,” Varu’kan murmured.

“For what?” the angel asked.

“For the moment they decide to remind us we are still their children.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

Then Varu’kan lifted his goblet, amber liquid catching the chandelier light.

“Well,” he said softly, eyes gleaming with restrained mischief, “until the stars choose to speak…”

He raised the cup toward his brother.

“…we may as well enjoy the pleasures placed before us.”
…