A Crown Beneath Firelight
That carriage appeared.
Rolling slowly through fire.
Approaching.
Silent.
Unstoppable.
Out of nowhere, the fire pulled back, like it knew better than to get close. Waves of hot air twisted what you could see far off, but still the carriage rolled forward, somehow smooth. Its wheels broke apart the burned ground beneath, while everything about it stayed whole, even though all else was wild.
A hush fell across the field - just minutes earlier thick with tension. Stillness took hold, quiet pressing in where noise once lived.
Not even a breeze stirred. The air held its breath.
A figure stepped out as the carriage rolled to a stop - youthful, dressed in rich fabric. The moment his polished heels met earth, stillness settled like breath held too long. Quiet power arrived without warning, carried on a single step.
Out of step with everyone else, he moved as though the world had made room for him first.
Not arrogance.
Not arrogance alone.
