Aglaia stood at the edge of the marble pool, watching steam curl into the afternoon light. The water shimmered like liquid silver beneath her feet. She had come to the Aphroditian Baths with a dream burning in her chest—to inspire mortals to create art so beautiful it would honor the gods forever. Today she would find her first artist. She walked along the eastern pathway where columns rose like white trees. Her gaze swept across the grounds until she spotted it—a bathhouse gazebo standing proud at the heart of the complex. Gold caught the sun and threw it back in brilliant flashes. Crystal archways glowed as if lit from within. Marble steps climbed to an open platform where the air itself seemed to dance with light. The Thermae of Aphrodite. This would be the place. Here, the masterworks would live. Here, mortals would see what their hands could create when touched by divine purpose. Aglaia reached into her dress and pulled out a golden mirror. The frame curved with flowers and vines worked into the metal. When she tilted it, light poured from its surface like honey. Any artist who looked into this mirror would see more than their own face. They would see the glow that lived in all beautiful things. With this tool, they could shape their work to hold that same radiance. She tucked it back into the folds of fabric and turned toward the main gates. Her dream had a home now. All she needed was someone brave enough to fill it.