The golden peace of the Atlas of Celestials was a strange, intoxicating wine. For weeks, Aegis had found a rhythm in the mundane. He spent his mornings tending to the herb garden, his fingers stained with the dark, rich soil of a realm that existed before time.
Bella spent her hours weaving tapestries that depicted the history of their old world, her laughter ringing through the open windows of their blue-tiled home. Caelum and Lyra had become fast friends with the local children, learning that a game of marbles could be just as intense as a clash of civilizations.
However, even in a paradise of creators, the old shadows of ego and desire could still flicker into existence.
