In the center of the courtyard, sitting at a small wooden table, are Asher and Elara.
They look like normal children. Asher is wearing a faded t-shirt and jeans, his white-and-black hair messy from the wind. Elara is in a simple yellow dress, her dark hair braided with silver wire. They are surrounded by pots of paint, brushes, and stacks of thick, textured paper.
But as I approach, I see the tension in Elara’s small shoulders.
She is staring at a blank canvas, her brush hovering inches from the surface. Her silver eyes are dull, the cosmic geometry that usually swirls within them entirely absent. She looks frustrated, her lower lip trembling slightly.
I stop a few feet away, letting Kade, who is walking beside me, lean heavily on my shoulder. We watch them in silence.
Asher reaches i
