The busy streets were alive with music and voices, laughter mixing with excitement. Joy seemed to float in the air, slipping out from every corner. Children ran past with sticky hands — cotton candy in one, a balloon in the other, most of them shaped like little planes. That was no surprise. Today was the aviation festival, an event that had somehow drawn people from all over Skyhaven and even from Linkon.

Caleb was there too — both a visitor and a pilot. He stood out in his festive white uniform, which felt strangely wrong among the bright colors and casual clothes. His colleagues had urged him to join the celebration, even though he didn’t really belong there today. Surrounded by people, noise, and music, he felt more alone than ever.

He stopped near an apple lemonade kiosk, watching the crowd. A teenage girl suddenly approached him. Children often did — asking about his uniform, wondering if he really flew planes. But this girl was different. She looked lost.

“Excuse me, sir… I think I lost my mum,” she said, her voice barely reaching him through the music.

Caleb was about to suggest finding a staff member together when his eyes fell on the necklace around her neck. His breath caught, as if the air had been knocked out of him. That wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. Still frozen, he noticed her looking back at him, puzzled. Her purple eyes — bright like a sunset just before night — made his head spin. For a moment, he wondered if this was another fever dream.

“So, you’re looking for your mum, right?” he finally said, trying to steady his voice. “Can you describe her for me?”