POV: LioraThe doorway rose from the heart of the silver light as though it had always existed beneath the shattered throne, patiently waiting for the right hands to awaken it. Stone by stone, ancient blocks pushed upward from the fractured floor, fitting together with flawless, almost reverent precision. Within moments, an elegant arch stood before us, tall and luminous. Vines of pure silver wound themselves around the pillars like living veins, unfurling delicate leaves before blooming into tiny white flowers. Their faint fragrance drifted through the chamber…..sweet and haunting. Moon lilies. The same blooms my mother used to gather every spring, arranging them carefully around our home during the Blood Moon Festival.A deep, unexpected ache settled heavy in my chest, stealing the air from my lungs.Some memories faded with the passage of years, worn thin by time and loss. But others remained untouched, vivid as though they had happened only yesterday. I could almost hear my mother
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