Lyria's POV
The Grand Magister's bony fingers dig into my arm as he drags me through the dark hallways beneath the arena.
"Where are you taking me?" My voice shakes. "What's happening?"
He doesn't answer. Just walks faster.
My mind races. The falling star. The urgent whispers. "Your trial has only just begun." What does it mean?
We climb stone stairs that seem to go on forever. My legs ache but the Grand Magister doesn't slow down. Finally, we reach a heavy door. He pushes it open.
The King's private council chamber.
My breath catches. The King himself sits at the head of a long table. Father stands beside him, looking smug. Next to Father is Seraphine, still holding Adrian's hand. They all turn to look at me.
But there's someone else here. Someone I didn't expect.
A woman in white robes stands by the window, her back to us. When she turns, I gasp. Her eyes are pure silver—no pupils, no white, just glowing silver. A Star Priestess. The rarest kind of magic user in the kingdom.
"The girl has arrived, Your Majesty," the Grand Magister says, bowing low.
The King looks at me like I'm an insect. "Lyria Everen—or should I say, just Lyria now. You're probably wondering why you're here."
I want to say something brave, something strong. Instead, I just nod.
"Three hours ago," the King continues, "a star fell from the heavens. The first fallen star in three hundred years. Our astronomers tracked it. Do you know where it landed?"
I shake my head.
"The Dark Forest," the Star Priestess says. Her voice sounds like wind chimes. "In the ruins of the First Temple. The star is calling for someone."
She stares right at me.
"Calling for... me?" My voice comes out as a whisper.
"Impossible," Father snaps. "She has no real magic. You saw her failure tonight."
"And yet," the Priestess says calmly, "the star sings her name. Only her name."
The room goes silent.
Seraphine's hand tightens on Adrian's arm. "That makes no sense. I'm the powerful one. If a star is calling anyone, it should be me."
"Stars don't make mistakes, child," the Priestess says.
The King drums his fingers on the table. "Here's the situation. A fallen star contains enormous power. Whoever claims it could change the balance of power in this kingdom. We cannot let it fall into enemy hands."
"So send your army," I say. "Send your best mages. Why do you need me?"
"Because the Dark Forest kills anyone who enters without a celestial blessing," the Priestess explains. "The trees are cursed. The shadows eat flesh. Only someone called by a star can survive the journey."
My stomach drops. "You want me to go into the Dark Forest? Alone?"
"Not alone," the King says. He claps his hands twice.
The door opens.
A man walks in, and the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees.
He's tall and dressed in black armor. His face is handsome but cold—like a statue carved from ice. Silver eyes scan the room without emotion. Dark marks crawl up his neck, moving slightly like living shadows.
Everyone takes a step back. Even the King looks nervous.
"Sir Cassian Nightveil," the King says. "The Silent Reaper. Our finest knight."
I've heard stories about the Silent Reaper. They say he's killed over three hundred men. They say he once destroyed an entire army by himself. They say he never speaks, never smiles, and never shows mercy.
They say he's cursed.
"Cassian will be your guardian on the Celestial Pilgrimage," the King announces. "You will travel to seven sacred temples across the kingdom, ending at the Dark Forest where the star waits. If you survive and claim the star, you will be pardoned. Your title restored."
"And if I refuse?" I ask.
"Then you'll be exiled tonight with nothing but the clothes on your back," Father says coldly. "You'll likely die in the wilderness within a week."
So it's not really a choice. It's death in the forest or slow death by starvation.
"Most people who attempt the pilgrimage die," the Priestess says quietly. "The temples are protected by ancient magic. Dangerous creatures guard the paths. And the Dark Forest..." She shakes her head. "No one has returned from there in over a century."
"She won't last three days," Seraphine says with a nasty smile. "She can barely perform basic magic. This is just a slow execution."
"Maybe that's the point," Adrian mutters.
My hands clench into fists. They're all counting on me to die. Father wants me gone without having to actually kill me himself. The King gets to say he tried to recover the star. And Seraphine gets to watch me suffer.
I look at the Silent Reaper. He hasn't said a word, hasn't moved. Just watches me with those cold silver eyes.
"Will you at least try to keep me alive?" I ask him.
For a long moment, he says nothing. Then, in a voice like gravel: "I will keep you alive long enough to reach the star. After that..." He shrugs. "Your fate is your own."
Not exactly comforting.
But what choice do I have?
"I'll do it," I say. "I'll go on the pilgrimage."
Father actually smiles. Seraphine looks thrilled. Even the King seems pleased.
They're all happy because they think I'm going to die.
"You leave at dawn," the Grand Magister says. "I suggest you rest. It will be the last comfortable bed you'll have for a very long time."
As guards lead me away, I hear Seraphine whisper to Adrian: "Do you think she'll make it past the first temple?"
"Not a chance," Adrian laughs.
Back in my cell, I sit on the hard floor and stare at the ceiling. Tomorrow I travel into deadly danger with a cursed knight who barely speaks. I have no magic, no training, and no one who cares if I live or die.
The smart thing would be to run. Escape tonight. Take my chances in the wilderness.
But then I remember the star's voice. Urgent. Frightened. "You must survive."
Why? Why does a star care about me?
I close my eyes and reach out with my weak magic. "Why me?" I whisper to the stars above.
The answer comes immediately, in a thousand voices at once:
"Because you are not what they think you are. And when you find the Fallen Star, everything will change."
Before I can ask what that means, pain explodes through my chest.
I gasp and clutch my heart. It feels like something is burning inside me, trying to claw its way out. The star mark on my chest—the one that appeared when the first star fell—starts glowing bright silver through my dress.
The cell door crashes open.
The Silent Reaper stands there, his sword drawn. His eyes are wide with something that might be shock.
"That mark," he says, his voice rough. "How do you have that mark?"
"I don't know," I gasp through the pain. "What's happening to me?"
He stares at the glowing mark on my chest, and for the first time, I see real emotion on his face.
Fear.
"That's the Mark of the Celestial Queen," he whispers. "It hasn't appeared in three hundred years. Not since..." He stops, his jaw clenched tight.
"Not since what?" I demand.
The Silent Reaper looks at me like I'm a ghost.
"Not since the last Celestial Queen was murdered by her own family."