As the celestial celebration wound to its conclusion, the golden glow of the orbs dimmed further, casting the hall in a soft twilight. Guests lingered in small groups, their voices low and filled with the warmth of shared memories and the comfort of familiarity.
Exousia, the radiant host, moved gracefully through the room, her golden gown catching the faint light like liquid sun. Despite the long evening, her posture remained poised, though the faintest weariness tugged at the corners of her smile. She exchanged words with the departing guests, her tone warm and genuine, her hands occasionally brushing an arm or shoulder in a gesture of affection.
Lucifer stood near one of the towering marble columns, his wings partially unfurled as though catching an unseen breeze. His black eyes, still sharp, had softened slightly with the evening's quiet. He observed the room with a detached grace, his expression enigmatic.