I waited until the second I was sure no one else was listening.
Not the crystal guards standing outside the Council chamber. Not Liva, who was probably still muttering to herself about decorum and royal disgrace. Not even Riona, my ever-faithful handmaid, who was likely three corridors away, hunting for me with the emotional stamina of a bloodhound in a tiara.
No. This moment was mine.
I leaned close to Uncle Kone, eyes wide with mischief.
"So?" I whispered. "What was it like?"
He raised an eyebrow. "What was what like?"
"Earth!" I whisper-shouted, bouncing a little on my chair. "The journey! The people! The… food!"
Kone leaned back, folding his arms with a grin that said, Ah, she's still the same star-eyed sprite who once tried to steal my flying boots. "You're worse than the Council reporters."
"And you," I huffed, "are the worst storyteller. You've been back three days and haven't told me anything."
"You didn't ask"
"I did ask!"
"You screamed it from across the dining hall, Azura. Right in front of the head maid."
I giggled, covering my mouth. "She needed shaking up. Her robes have been stiff since the last moon cycle."
Kone laughed. "Your mother is going to ground me one day, and I'm not even her child."
"Then hurry," I leaned in, grinning. "Tell me before she finds you."
He sighed dramatically. "Fine. But you have to promise not to run off to Earth the moment I'm done talking."
"No promises."
He looked at me sternly. I fluttered my eyelashes like a guilty moonbird.
"Azura…"
"Okay, okay! I won't run. But if I float there accidentally, that's not on me."
Kone shook his head, grinning. Then, finally, he began.
"It was… strange, at first. Loud. Messy. Smelled like smoke and salt and metal and... sweat."
My nose wrinkled. "Ew."
"But also... beautiful," he added quickly. "Earth is messy in the way a painting is messy before it's finished. Raw. Real. They build things that break, then build them again. They love with everything they have, even when it hurts."
I blinked. "They sound... a bit like us."
"They are," he said. "Just softer. Fragile. Like glass that keeps trying not to shatter."
I pictured it. Tiny glass people wandering around in smoke and salt. My heart ached just imagining it.
"They die," Kone added, softer this time. "They bleed and bruise and age so fast it would make your head spin. I met a boy who was only thirty. And he called me old."
I gasped. "You?"
"Yes, me," he said, feigning deep offense. "Can you believe that? He asked if I moisturized."
I broke into a fit of giggles.
"Tell me more," I said, clutching his sleeve. "What else? What did you see?"
Kone's eyes softened, gaze drifting into memory.
"I saw oceans, Azura. Endless, dancing water that roared louder than our storms. I saw cities that glittered like stars, and forests so wide you'd lose your breath just standing in them. I saw a girl playing a wooden instrument in the street, and people threw coins in her hat, not because they had to... but because she made them feel something."
I felt something too, just listening.
"I saw pain," he added. "Hurt so deep it lived in the air. But I also saw joy, so bright it pushed the darkness back."
I stared at him like he was telling the greatest story in the world. Because to me, he was.
"They feel everything so loudly," he continued. "They laugh like it's their last chance. They cry like it's the end of the world. They hope... like it's all they have left."
For a second, I couldn't speak. A strange warmth bloomed in my chest,part longing, part awe.
"Did you heal anyone?" I finally asked. "While you were there?"
He nodded. "A little boy. Burned his hand in a fire. His mother thought I was a miracle."
"Well," I shrugged, "you are."
Kone smiled, but his eyes had a faraway look. "They don't know what we are, Azura. They don't know we exist. To them, everything magical is a myth. A bedtime story. If they knew the truth…"
He didn't finish. I didn't ask him to.
I sat back slowly, hugging my knees to my chest. "I want to go there," I whispered.
Kone looked at me sharply. "Azura"
"Not now," I added quickly. "Just... one day. Maybe. When it's allowed."
He relaxed, just slightly. "You'd love it. You'd fall in love with the sky."
I tilted my head. "We live in the sky."
"Ah," he said, smiling. "But Earth's sky is different. It's the one thing they all share, no matter how far apart they are. They look up and hope."
I closed my eyes for a moment, pretending I could see it too. The messy beauty. The fire and softness. The sky that made people hope.
I wasn't even there yet... and already, part of me longed for it.