The Boy Who Dreamed in Starlight

Previously

…Breakfast was always a challenge. His mother, dear Lyra, had a way of presenting food that was both nourishing and, to Elara’s starlit mind, utterly enchanting. Today, the porridge in his bowl wasn't just oats and water; it was a swirling vortex of creamy, milky way, dotted with the plump raisins that were, undoubtedly, tiny, edible planets. He stirred it with his spoon, and the motion created miniature whirlpools, each one reflecting the faint, internal starlight that seemed to emanate from his very being. Lyra watched him, a fond exasper