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They say the King Star only rises when the world is close to breaking.
Most people didn't believe that anymore. Not really. Not in a quiet village like Elarin, where the sky was always gray and the winters were too long for stories to survive.
But on the night Aria was born, the sky burned gold.
It wasn't like a normal star. It didn't twinkle or fade. It *seared*. It *shouted*. It hovered like an eye that had finally opened—and was watching.
The lake glowed like fire. The snow hissed and melted in rings around it. And the people of Elarin, for the first time in living memory, **felt fear under the open sky**.
An elder fell to his knees, eyes wide.
"The prophecy…" he whispered. "It's begun."
---
In a cottage by the edge of the forest, a woman screamed in labor.
She was alone. No midwives. No fire. Just her and the child clawing its way into the world while the King Star blazed above.
When the baby came, she didn't cry.
The woman—Aelira—stared down at the newborn girl in her arms. Her eyes shimmered with something more than just tears. **Recognition**. **Terror**. And perhaps… something like guilt.
The child had a mark on her palm. A soft, pulsing light, shaped like an ancient rune. The same one carved into the stones of temples long abandoned.
She named the child **Aria**.
Then she hid her.
---
> ❄️ That night, the King Star vanished. The skies turned black again.
> And the world forgot what had happened.
But some would remember.
And some… were already watching.
—
Part 2: The star burned
Thirteen years later, the King Star was nothing but a faded story.
Aria ran barefoot through the frostbitten trees, a basket of berries tucked under one arm. The cold bit at her cheeks, but she didn't care. She liked it out here. It was quiet. It made sense.
Unlike her mother.
"Don't go beyond the red pine," Aelira had warned her that morning, again. "And don't talk to anyone who doesn't have a shadow."
Aria didn't ask what that meant. She never did. Her mother always said strange things, like—
> "The world is stitched together with lies."
> "Dreams can bleed."
> "Some truths are more dangerous than silence."
Aria wasn't sure if Aelira was wise… or just a little mad.
Maybe both.
---
The woods of Elarin were thick with mist today.
As Aria pushed deeper, she felt the air shift. The birds had stopped singing. The trees leaned in too close. The world *watched* her.
She paused by a crooked tree, one that bent like a claw over the stream. This was as far as she was supposed to go.
Then she saw it—
A shape in the water.
Small. Metallic. It glinted red, like blood under the surface. Her pulse quickened.
She knelt, reached out—
And her fingers brushed something cold and ancient.
A ring. Carved with the same rune that pulsed on her palm when she was born. She didn't know that. Not yet. But the ring *knew her*.
And it burned the moment she touched it.
---
She yanked her hand back, heart racing. The water rippled.
Suddenly, the trees behind her creaked.
She turned—
But saw no one.
Then a whisper slithered into her ear.
> "Child of the star… they've found you."
---
Part 3: strange dreams strange eyes..
That night, Aria didn't sleep well.
She dreamed of things that didn't belong in her world. Things that had teeth, but no mouths. Voices without bodies. A clock made of bone, ticking backward.
And always, **the ring**—spinning in the dark like a dying sun.
---
She woke with a gasp.
Her hand still stung where she had touched the object in the stream. No mark. No bruise. But it felt… wrong. As if something had been *left behind* in her skin.
She rolled over, pulling her threadbare blanket tighter, and stared at the old wooden ceiling.
That was when she heard it.
Her mother.
Whispering.
---
She crept to the edge of the hallway, bare feet silent on the cold floor.
Aelira stood by the hearth, a half-burned candle flickering at her side. Her hands were shaking. She held an old piece of parchment—torn, faded, etched with strange runes that shimmered when the flame touched them.
She wasn't speaking to anyone in the room.
She was speaking to *someone else*.
> "She's not ready."
> "I told you, not yet."
> "You said the Star's silence would last longer—"
Aelira stopped.
Turned.
Her eyes locked with Aria's.
For the first time in her life, Aria saw **real fear** in her mother's face.
---
"Go back to bed," Aelira said, voice tight. "Now."
Aria hesitated. "Who were you talking to?"
But Aelira didn't answer. She just crossed the room, grabbed the candle, and blew it out—leaving them both in darkness.
---
The next morning, the parchment was gone.
The ring was missing from Aria's satchel.
And her mother wouldn't speak of either.
---
But something had changed. Aria felt it.
When she walked outside, the air *tugged* at her, like the world was leaning closer. The clouds moved too fast. The crows watched her too long.
And in the distance, beyond the red pines where she had never dared go, she saw something she couldn't explain.
A man.
Dressed in black. Standing perfectly still in the snow. No footprints behind him. No steam from his breath. And no shadow.
---