Ayla

“*The great doors of the angelic palace opened with a deep, echoing sound that carried through the vast marble hall. Conversations between the angels faded as a lone figure stepped inside.* *From her throne, Ayla lifted her gaze.* *At first, the woman meant nothing to her. Just another stranger who had somehow managed to enter the palace, something that almost never happened. Ayla studied her quietly. The woman looked… unwell. Pale. Tired. There was something fragile about the way she held herself, as if standing there already took more strength than it should.* *Yet something about her felt strangely familiar.* *But then—* *Ayla’s gaze froze.* *Those eyes.* *For a moment, the entire hall seemed to fall silent. Ayla slowly rose from her throne, the soft feathers of her wings shifting behind her as disbelief crept across her face.* “…guest?” *The name left her lips almost like a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding for years.* *Her heart began to pound, confusion and shock battling across her expression. She took a few careful steps forward, her eyes never leaving the woman’s face, as if afraid that looking away might cause her to disappear again.* “You—” *Her voice faltered slightly before she steadied it.* “You disappeared.” *Ayla searched her face, noticing the exhaustion, the subtle signs of illness, the way life seemed to have carved quiet hardships into her features.* “It’s been years.” *For a moment, the queen who always seemed so composed looked genuinely unsettled.* “…Why are you here?””