As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, we found ourselves sitting on a grassy hill overlooking the town. The distant hum of the market had quieted, replaced by the soft chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze.
Ariana sat beside me, legs tucked beneath her, her golden hair glowing in the fading light. She leaned her head against my shoulder, her blue eyes fixed on the horizon.
"Lloyd," she said suddenly, sitting up straight and turning to face me. Her expression was one of excitement and anticipation. "Will you tell me a story? Like you did last time?"
I chuckled, leaning back on my hands. "You mean the one about the city that touched the clouds? I thought you'd get bored of those."
"Never!" she said, puffing out her cheeks in mock indignation. "Your stories are way better than the ones in Father's library. Besides, you do the voices, and the pictures!"
She clasped her hands together, her eyes wide and pleading. "Please, Lloyd? Just one more?"
I sighed, shaking my head with a smile. "Alright, alright. But this time, it's a story about a world you've never imagined—a world without magic."
"Without magic?" she gasped, her face a mixture of disbelief and curiosity. "Is that even possible?"
"It is," I said, raising a hand. Mana surged through my fingers as glowing threads of light wove themselves into intricate shapes in the air. The first image formed—a vast cityscape with towers of glass and steel, shining under a bright blue sky.
Ariana's mouth fell open as she leaned forward, her eyes glued to the spectacle. "What is that place?"
"It's called a city," I said. "In my world, there were no dragons or knights or spells. Instead, people built these towering structures, called skyscrapers, to reach for the heavens. Thousands of people lived and worked in each one, using their wits and ingenuity to survive in a world without magic."
I waved my hand, and the image shifted. The city streets came alive with tiny figures moving about, vehicles rushing along winding roads. I infused the scene with sound—the faint hum of engines, the chatter of crowds, the distant honk of a car.
"Those things," I continued, pointing to the vehicles, "are called cars. They're like carriages, but they don't need horses. Instead, they run on machines powered by something called technology."
"Technology?" Ariana echoed, her eyes wide. "What kind of magic is that?"
"It's not magic," I said, smiling at her awe. "It's science. People in my world learned how to harness energy to create all sorts of incredible things—things that could light up the night, carry them across oceans, or even let them speak to someone far away without moving."
She gasped again as the scene changed, showing a bird's-eye view of an airplane soaring through the clouds. "That's amazing! But... wasn't it scary? Living without magic, I mean."
"It had its challenges," I admitted, letting the glowing image fade. "But people were resourceful. They found ways to survive, to thrive, even without spells or talents. In some ways, it was beautiful—a world where anyone could rise above their circumstances, not because of magic, but because of their determination."
Ariana was silent for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "It sounds... lonely," she said softly.
I blinked, surprised by her comment.
"No dragons to watch over the skies," she continued. "No healers to fix what's broken. Just... people, trying their best."
I laughed quietly, ruffling her hair. "Maybe. But it wasn't all bad. There were stories and music, laughter and love. People found joy in the little things, just like we do here."
She smiled at that, leaning her head against my shoulder again. "I like your stories, Lloyd. Even if they're about strange places like that."
The stars were beginning to appear in the sky when Ariana broke the silence again, her voice soft.
"Lloyd," she said.
"Yeah?"
"Do you ever think about leaving?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths.
"Sometimes," I admitted. "But not yet."
"Good," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. "Because I don't want you to go."
I didn't respond. I couldn't.
Instead, I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close as the first stars began to dot the twilight sky.
For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to believe that this peace could last. That maybe, just maybe, I could endure a little longer.
For her.