Chapter 2
1733 Words
The forest greeted me before my people did.
The air changed first—cooler, cleaner, threaded with the faint shimmer of magic that never existed near Valecrown. Leaves whispered softly overhead as dawn filtered through the canopy, pale light touching bark and moss like a blessing.
I had survived.
That truth settled slowly in my chest as I crossed the final markers only Starbound eyes could see. The tension I had carried since the battlefield loosened, just a little. Here, I did not need borrowed armor or bound ears. Here, the stars listened quietly instead of shouting.
A soft glow flared ahead.
Then voices.
“Sorahi.”
I barely had time to lift my head before arms wrapped around me, warm and shaking. Mireth pulled back first, her sharp eyes scanning my face, my hands, my clothes.
“You’re bleeding,” she said, already reaching for me.
“It’s not mine,” I replied gently.
She nodded, relief flickering across her features, and guided me forward.
The grove opened before me, hidden as it always was—woven between illusion and nature, protected by old magic and older promises. Fires burned low, their light reflecting off familiar faces. Some were exhausted. Some were injured. All were watching me.
Because they had sent me into Valecrown’s war.
And I had returned.
Eryndor stood apart from the others, his staff grounded at his side, silver hair catching the faint glow of the morning stars that still lingered in the sky. His gaze met mine, steady and searching.
“You felt it,” he said quietly.
It wasn’t a question.
I nodded.
Part 2: The ones who remained
The Starbound were fewer than we once were.
That was the truth no one spoke aloud.
We were survivors of a people nearly erased—those who could hear the stars without losing themselves to their call. Once, we had walked openly beneath the sky. Once, our light had shaped cities, healed lands, and guided kingdoms.
Then Valecrown rose.
Fear turned to hunger. Hunger turned to conquest. And the Starbound became something to be claimed, controlled, or destroyed.
Those who escaped scattered. Some hid alone. Some lost themselves. A few—very few—found their way here, to Eryndor.
He had been a leader, teacher, protector—not by title, but by choice. He gathered us not as weapons, but as a family determined to survive.
Kaelen approached now, his expression tight. “The battle went as expected. Valecrown pushed deeper than usual. They weren’t just testing borders.”
“They were searching,” Eryndor said.
His eyes returned to me.
“And they found something,” he added softly.
A ripple of unease moved through the grove.
I felt it too—the truth pressing against my ribs.
“There was someone,” I said. “On the battlefield.”
Silence fell.
“He wasn’t Starbound,” I continued. “But he wasn’t ordinary either. The stars reacted to him.”
Eryndor’s fingers tightened around his staff.
“So,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It has begun.”
Part 3: What was Hidden
Later, when the others had returned to their tasks, Eryndor called me aside.
We sat near the edge of the grove, where the illusion thinned and the sky peeked through the trees. Morning had fully arrived now, but the stars had not completely faded.
“They always linger when you’re troubled,” he said, following my gaze.
“You knew,” I replied. “Didn’t you?”
He did not deny it.
“When you were born,” he said slowly, “the sky changed. Not briefly. Not subtly. The constellations rearranged themselves to watch you breathe.”
I swallowed.
“You told me I was Starbound,” I said. “Not… more.”
Eryndor’s expression softened—not with guilt, but with care.
“You were a child,” he said. “And being powerful in this world does not mean being safe. It means being hunted.”
I looked down at my hands, remembering the pull on the battlefield. The way the stars had nearly answered me without permission.
“There are truths,” he continued, “that awaken only when the heart is ready. Force them, and power turns destructive.”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“And some awaken only through connection.”
My breath caught, though I didn’t yet understand why.
Part 4: Echoes of the Battlefield
That night, sleep did not come easily.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the battlefield again—the smoke, the blood, the silence that had followed.
And him, Cyrian.
The name surfaced again, unbidden.
I did not know where he was. I did not know what he was. But I knew this: whatever lived in him had brushed against the stars in me—and neither had forgotten.
Above the grove, a single constellation glimmered brighter than the rest.
Waiting.
Part 5: Why the Battle Came
By midday, the grove was restless.
It always was after contact with Valecrown. Even hidden behind illusion and spellwork, fear traveled quickly among the Starbound. Children were kept close. Weapons were cleaned and sharpened. Quiet arguments broke out and died just as quickly.
The council fire was lit before sunset.
Not all Starbound were leaders, but all were allowed to listen.
Eryndor stood at the center, his staff resting against his shoulder, the faint glow of old magic steady around him.
“The battle was not random,” he said. “Nor was it meant to end where it did.”
Kaelen stepped forward, rolling a map across the flat stone near the fire. It was old, marked with shifting lines only those trained could read.
“Three nights ago,” Kaelen said, “our watchers felt a ripple—faint, but deliberate. Valecrown mages probing the outer ley lines.”
A murmur passed through the group.
“They were testing for ancient magic,” Mireth added. “Not battle strength. Presence.”
My stomach tightened.
“They felt us,” Liora said sharply, her fists clenched. “After all this time.”. She paused, anger showing on her face like never before.
“They felt something,” Eryndor corrected. His gaze flicked briefly toward me before returning to the others. “Enough to send soldiers where they did not intend to fight—only to provoke.”
“To draw us out,” Kaelen finished.
The truth settled heavily over the grove.
Valecrown had not marched to conquer land.
They had marched to confirm a rumor.
Part 6: How We Were Pulled In
“We didn’t plan to engage,” Kaelen continued. “But the scouts reported civilians near the border villages. Valecrown forces weren’t careful.”
“They never are,” Liora muttered.
Eryndor nodded once. “We could not allow a m******e to hide a search. Intervention was necessary.”
That was how I had been chosen.
Not because I was the strongest.
Because I was the most controlled.
“We needed someone who could fight without being seen,” Eryndor said quietly. “Someone whose magic would not answer recklessly.”
His words were careful. Kind.
Still, guilt stirred beneath my ribs.
“And now?” Mireth asked. “What did they confirm?”
Silence answered her.
Eryndor finally spoke. “That the old powers are not gone. And that the stars are stirring again.”
My breath caught.
Part 7: Those Who Stand With Us
As the fire burned lower, Eryndor motioned for the others to step forward—those who had stood at the heart of the tribe’s survival.
“These are the ones Valecrown will sense first,” he said. “So you will know them.”
Kaelen inclined his head slightly. “Scout and pathfinder. I see what others miss.”
Mireth offered a calm nod. “Healer, Listener, Memory keeper.”
She touched the ground lightly as she spoke, as if the earth itself steadied her.
Liora crossed her arms, chin raised. “If I don’t burn something, assume I’m dead.”
Despite the tension, a few quiet smiles surfaced.
“And you already know Sorahi,” Eryndor said, his voice gentler now. “She walks between silence and starlight.”
Their eyes turned to me—not with fear, but with trust.
That was heavier than armor.
Part 8: What Eryndor Never Told Me
Later, when the grove had settled and the stars climbed higher, Eryndor found me alone.
“You heard me say it has begun,” he said. “You deserve to know what I meant.”
I did not interrupt.
“When you were born,” he continued, “I was watching the sky—not for prophecy, but for danger. Valecrown was already hunting remnants of our kind.”
His voice lowered.
“And then the light appeared.”
I looked up instinctively.
“It wasn’t an explosion,” he said. “It was recognition. The stars noticed you. All of them.”
My throat tightened.
“I knew then,” he went on, “that if Valecrown ever learned the truth, they would not stop. Power like that does not remain free in their world.”
“So you hid me,” I said softly.
“I protected you,” he corrected. “By letting you grow without knowing everything you could become.”
I thought of the battlefield. The pull. The way the stars had strained toward something dark and familiar.
“And if I had known?” I asked.
Eryndor’s eyes were steady. “Then you might have burned too brightly, too soon.”
Part 9: The One Who Could Not Wait
Before he left, Eryndor paused.
“There is something else,” he said. “Something the stars have whispered for years.”
My heart beat faster.
“There is a presence,” he continued, “that has been moving closer to our world. Not Starbound. Not Valecrown. Something… bound to shadow.”
My breath caught.
“The stars noticed him long ago,” Eryndor said quietly. “And they have been waiting.”
“For what?” I asked.
“For you,” he answered.
The forest fell silent around us.
Somewhere beyond the grove, far beyond Valecrown’s reach, something ancient shifted—as if it, too, had grown tired of waiting.
- Writer
