Celeste Aurelia leaned against the window frame of her grand room, golden eyes gazing over the boundless sea of clouds that wrapped around her floating island. This was home: a land high above the world, unreachable except by the "Holy Elevator" that connected their majestic castle to the distant earth below. To anyone else, it would have seemed magical — an ethereal paradise where one could touch the heavens. But to Celeste, it was a prison.
She sighed, absently brushing a strand of her golden hair away. "Seventeen years on this island," she murmured, though only she could hear. "Seven of them without stepping a foot off."
The memory haunted her. That one moment, seven years ago. A boy had approached her, his face full of excitement, and tried to befriend her. He startled her, and in a reflex, she kicked him. The boy cried, and his parents, rushing to his side, glared at Celeste as if she were some vile creature. The disgust in their eyes was unbearable.
Since that day, she refused to leave the island. Even when her parents invited her to festivals or town gatherings, she only gave them lists of things to bring back — toys, clothes, books. Anything to distract her. It was one such list that changed her life. Two years ago, her mother returned with a box filled with novels.
Her fingers grazed the worn cover of her favorite romance novel resting on the desk beside her. She picked it up and flipped through its pages, smiling faintly as the heroine confessed her love to the dashing knight. "This… this is the kind of life I want," she said softly. "A life of romance, excitement, and…" Her voice trailed off, and she slammed the book shut.
"I've had enough of reading about it. I want to live it."
Standing abruptly, Celeste pushed her chair back and walked toward the door. Her soft-soled shoes made no sound against the ornate marble floor as she stepped into the hall. The walls were adorned with tapestries and paintings of her ancestors, their stoic faces seeming to watch her every move. Fresh flowers sat in elegant vases beneath each painting, filling the air with a sweet scent.
"I'll tell them," she whispered to herself. "I'll tell them I'm going down. No more excuses."
As she approached a large door at the end of the hallway, she hesitated. She could hear voices and… muffled noises? Her brow furrowed, and she slowly pushed the door open.
Inside, her parents were locked in an embrace. Her father, tall and regal despite his 56 years, had his arms wrapped tightly around her mother's waist. Her mother, elegant and glowing even at 54, leaned against a mirrored cabinet as her husband kissed her passionately.
Celeste's face turned a deep shade of red. "What… are you two doing?" she asked, her voice louder than intended.
The couple froze, their heads snapping toward her like startled deer.
"Celeste!" her father exclaimed, stepping back immediately. "This isn't—"
"We were just… talking!" her mother added hastily, smoothing her dress.
Celeste groaned, rubbing her temples. "Talking? Really? With your lips pressed together like that?"
Her father cleared his throat awkwardly, looking anywhere but at his daughter. Her mother, however, rushed forward, her cheeks pink but her eyes sparkling with joy. "Sweetheart, what brings you here? Did you need something?"
"I…" Celeste hesitated, the words catching in her throat. Her mother tilted her head, her white hair glinting in the sunlight streaming through the windows.
"Well?" her father asked, his usual composure returning. "What is it, Celeste?"
"I've decided…" Celeste straightened her back and took a deep breath. "I want to go down. I'm leaving the island."
For a moment, silence. Then, her parents' faces morphed into identical expressions of shock.
"WHAT?!" her mother shrieked, clutching her chest dramatically.
Her father stared at her as if she'd just announced she was eloping with a dragon. "You're serious?"
"Yes, I'm serious," Celeste replied firmly. "I've spent enough time up here. It's time for me to see the world."
Her mother burst into tears, rushing forward to envelop Celeste in a tight hug. "Oh, my darling! I've been waiting for this moment for so long. I'm so proud of you!"
Her father, not to be outdone, joined the embrace, his voice thick with emotion. "You've grown so much. This is a moment I'll never forget."
Celeste squirmed, her face pressed against her father's chest. "Okay, okay, I get it! You're proud. Can you stop squeezing me now?"
After a few moments, her mother pulled back, wiping her eyes. "But, darling, you'll need a bodyguard. I'll call someone right away—"
"No," Celeste interrupted.
Her parents exchanged worried glances. "What do you mean, no?" her father asked.
"I don't need a bodyguard," Celeste said, crossing her arms. "I'm stronger than any guard in this castle."
Her mother's eyes narrowed. "Celeste, this isn't the time to be stubborn. The world is dangerous—"
"I'm not being stubborn," Celeste insisted. "You know how many magicians you hired to train me over the years? Sixty-seven. Sixty-seven master magicians. I can cast Grade 1 spells with ease. Trust me, I can handle myself."
Her parents stared at her, speechless. After a moment, her mother sighed in defeat. "Fine. But promise me you'll be careful."
"I promise."
Satisfied, her mother smiled and patted her cheek. "That's my girl."
Celeste turned and left the room, her resolve stronger than ever. Back in her room, she rifled through her wardrobe, bypassing the ornate dresses and gowns she usually wore. Instead, she chose a simple shirt and baggy pants — something practical and unassuming. She wanted to blend in with the lower and middle classes, to experience life as they did.
Once dressed, she called for her personal butler to accompany her to the elevator. Her parents walked with her to the castle's grand entrance, their pride evident in their smiles. As she approached the exit, a red carpet had been rolled out, and servants lined the path, bowing deeply as she passed.
Celeste stepped into the Holy Elevator, a towering structure of gold and glass that connected the floating island to the earth below. A plush chair awaited her inside, and she sat down, smoothing her pants as the elevator began its descent.
Through the glass walls, she watched the clouds slowly part, revealing the vast world below. A grin spread across her face. "This is it," she whispered. "No more books, no more daydreams. I'm going to find my own story."
As the elevator descended, the island above faded from view, and Celeste's adventure began.