The Sacred Thread of Amaré

Not loud. Not demanding. But everything stilled the second her presence arri

oors. Amaré's heels clicked gently-each step precise, elegant, and spine-straight. Heads turned without meaning to. Some

rounded the corner. "Ma! I told you not to walk so fast when I'm wearing

" Amaré replied without turning, a

her cousin's, and leaned in close. "Did

asked, alre

at the same time and d

ate, and something else by the looks exchanged in silence-guardians, maybe. Bal

etched in shimmering gold and silver ink, a sigil so old it hummed with life. Her family's magic didn't live throug

anked them at lunch like silent sentinels. So did the ten other family-friends-child

is cosmic weight, Amaré

y and mixed mocktails with sea salt rims. She braided hair better than any salon, sharpened razors w

, still ached-but when her fingers brushed their arm, their soul eased

oulder. In class, they never studied-but aced everything. Not because of ego. Because

... that was n

d sigils, powers, secrets. All tied to Amaré. And though no one s

The universe whisper

g was stirring. The sigil on her neck glowed a little brighter

sn't

t

ch

er of realms, straightened her spine, adjus