Alamelissa -

Beside her, Caelum picked a wildflower. He was solid now, real, with cheeks flushed by the rising sun. He handed her the flower and smiled.

People came to her from across the archipelago. Not for magic tricks or cures, but for witnessing . “Show me what I cannot see,” they would say. And Alamelissa would take a belonging—a ring, a key, a shoe—and within a day, weave a hand-sized square of cloth that, when held to the light, revealed the owner’s most hidden truth. alamelissa

One by one, her memories became threads in the loom. And as each thread left her, she forgot. She forgot the taste of honey. She forgot the smell of rain on dry earth. She forgot her mother’s face. Beside her, Caelum picked a wildflower