It began with a light.
A strange flicker in the sky—brighter than moonlight, yet softer than sunlight. Elara saw it while standing alone atop the last ridge of the mountain, where the air turned thin and clouds drifted beneath her feet.
The Eighth Marker, resting quietly around her neck in its crystal form, pulsed once—warm.
Then again—hot.
"Elara!" Kael's voice reached her from behind. "Something's happening. Come quick."
She turned.
And saw the sky bleeding gold.
---
A Sign in the Sky
From the very point where the Veil had once broken, a comet of flame and ice blazed across the heavens. It wasn't falling—it was arriving. With purpose.
Mira stood outside their stone refuge, her runes glowing. "That's not a star," she whispered. "That's someone coming."
"Coming from where?" Liora asked, sword half-drawn.
Kael stepped beside Elara. "I've seen this before. Not in life… in the dreams the Marker gave me."
"And?" Elara asked.
Kael's voice was low. "The Starborn are returning."
---
Legend Rewritten
Long ago—before the Markers, before the Veil—there were beings called the Starborn: celestial architects who helped shape the world with magic, memory, and emotion. They were not gods… but they were close.
They vanished during the First Fracture.
Some believed they died.
Others believed they became the Markings themselves.
But if they were returning now… something worse was coming with them.
---
The Arrival
The comet fell to the heart of the Irys Vale, a valley of glass flowers and long-dead magic.
Elara and her group traveled by night, the Eighth Marker guiding them like a compass, its glow increasing with every step.
They reached the impact crater by dawn.
And in its center, standing completely unharmed amidst molten stone and cracked skyglass, was a boy. No older than seventeen. Pale skin. Silver eyes. Hair like starlight and dusk.
He looked straight at Elara and smiled faintly.
"I've been looking for you."
---
The Starborn Boy
They approached cautiously.
Mira whispered, "I don't like this. Too calm."
"He's not hostile," Elara said. "I can feel it."
The boy tilted his head. "You're the Eighth."
"Who are you?" Kael asked, stepping protectively in front of Elara.
"My name is Sareth," the boy said. "I am the first of the Awakened. One of twelve. We were bound in the star-sleep… until you shattered the sky."
Elara stepped forward. "I didn't mean to wake anyone."
"You didn't wake us," Sareth said gently. "You freed us."
---
Memory Shared
Sareth placed his hand on the earth, and the ground lit with celestial glyphs.
Each one told a story.
> The Starborn created the Veil not to hide magic—but to protect reality from a being known only as The Hollowing.
The Markers were made as keys to that Veil.
When Elara united them, she restored balance… but also broke the final seal.
"The Hollowing?" Liora echoed. "What kind of name is that?"
"The kind you don't speak more than once," Sareth said. "It devours identity, memory, self. That's why the Eighth exists. To hold the last anchor of what makes you… you."
Elara's heart pounded. "You're saying I'm its opposite?"
"You're its mirror," he replied. "And it knows you now."
---
A Warning and a Gift
Sareth walked to Elara and placed something in her hand: a small stone orb filled with swirling stars.
"A Memory Seed," he explained. "If the Hollowing touches your mind, plant this inside your thoughts. It will remind you who you are."
She looked up at him. "And what happens if I forget before I use it?"
"Then we all forget. Forever."
---
Restless Dreams
That night, Elara didn't sleep.
The stars above were clearer than ever. But instead of comfort, they now carried awareness. Like they were watching. Listening.
Kael sat beside her. "You're quiet."
She looked at him. "There's something coming, Kael. Bigger than Theren. Bigger than prophecy."
"I know."
"I'm scared," she admitted.
"So am I."
She leaned into him, her head on his shoulder. "If I forget who I am—if I change—"
"I'll remind you," he said softly, brushing her hair back. "Even if I have to go into the Hollowing itself."
---
Elsewhere: A Door Opens
In a barren part of the world—far beyond the reach of stars or gods—a crack formed in the ground.
From it, darkness crawled.
Not shadow. Not magic.
But nothing.
And in the center of that nothing… something began to breathe.