Lily stood at the water’s edge, her bare feet pressed into the wet sand. In her hand, a single starfire bloom — phosphorescent, trembling, too bright for any earthly flower. Dorian had watched her pick it from the cliffside where nothing else grew.
And then she rose — not flying, not falling — simply becoming part of the night air, the starfire’s light bleeding into the constellations overhead. dorian del isla lily starfire
Lily turned. Her eyes reflected the flower’s glow, turning them into two small, captured stars. “You told me once that starfire only burns if you fear it.” Lily stood at the water’s edge, her bare