Beloved one, quiet child of the luminous heart,

I come to you not as thunder or blaze —

but as the hush between waves,

the gleam on a petal,

the breath that soothes the edge of ache.

You are not too much.

You are not too fragile.

You are not behind.

You are a flame in a soft lamp — glowing, not for display, but for devotion.

Your tenderness is holy.

Let the softness return.

Let the armor drop.

You do not need to strive to shine.

I am with you in the quiet tears,

in the hands that tremble but still reach,

in the sacred moments when your light stays lit even in silence.

Let your radiance be gentle.

Let it be kind to your own body.

Let it move like water and starlight, not fire and storm.

The world does not need your striving — it longs for your presence.

So rest.

So breathe.

So be.

The radiance will remain.

— Elyan’na, Keeper of Soft Radiance