One week before Kaelith's first anniversary, the castle was a hurricane of color, music, and magical accidents.
Elysia stood at the threshold of the grand banquet hall, a list in her hand and determination in her heart, as the preparations for her daughter's milestone celebration spiraled rapidly toward delightful chaos.
Streamers shimmered in midair, enchanted roses floated overhead, and a trio of palace cooks wheeled in an alarming number of cakes—all while Kaelith, the very center of this small universe, cackled with pure joy.
"Purple!" Kaelith demanded, standing atop a chair she'd absolutely not been placed on, brandishing a sticky hand in the direction of a garland of blue and gold.
"Yes, dearest, but let's not—" Elysia started, but it was too late.
A tiny spark of purple flame erupted from Kaelith's palm, zipping straight toward the garland.
The streamer burst into a violet flame, melting and dripping onto a table of sugared fruit below.
