Twelve gathered around one table. They came to decide the fate of the one who had not yet become herself. Before them was a new soul. Without a face. Without a character. Without a past. Fire wanted to gift her strength. Earth — steadfastness. Air — freedom. Water — the ability to love. Each claimed that their specific gift was what she needed. They argued, persuaded, whispered, and reached out to her, as if they could pre-write her story. But the soul remained silent. Because destiny had not yet been written… And perhaps that is why this supper became a secret🪽