Beneath the willow’s hush, where vows dissolve into wind and memory, Elira stands alone in knowing. The world tilts—guests flicker, runes bloom, and a dragonfly hovers like a question. A masked figure offers a pact already made, a promise etched in bone and breath. Time forgets, but Elira remembers. In the silence between heartbeats, she crosses the veil, where love is a ritual older than language, and remembrance is the price of awakening.