It started with Corin finding a cracked porcelain mask in the chapel cellar.

That night, he burst into the dormitory with a ratty curtain over his shoulders and declared himself the “High King of Dust.” Caeli squealed with laughter. Mirae tried to throw her boot at him. Akari just tilted his head with that quiet amusement that made Corin grin wider.

Rael rolled her eyes, but even she couldn’t suppress a smirk.

Soon, it became a game.

They raided storage for props. Lira painted scenery with dye made from crushed berries. Mirae carved a sword from a broken broom handle. Caeli insisted every story have a dragon—even if it was just a sock puppet on Corin’s hand.

Akari was always the narrator. His voice soft, but vivid, guiding their tale through tragedy and triumph.

One night, they performed a story about six orphans who turned into stars and guarded the sky. Rael added a line at the end—an epilogue.

“They watch over those who are still lost. And wait to be found again.”