Celestria didn't sleep.
Even at night, its towers glowed with soft crystal light. Lanterns floated gently through the air, suspended by whispered runes. The streets buzzed with laughter. Lovers sang under moonlight. Children played in the alleys without fear.
It was perfect.
Too perfect.
Veylan stood atop the clocktower, staring down at the immaculate city. His mind replayed the sigil he'd seen beneath the shrine—the same one Princess Diana wore around her neck.
"She knows," he muttered. "She knows about the Goddess. She knows we're not just visitors. And she's not afraid."
A flock of crows passed overhead, shrieking into the sky.
Behind him, the bells gave a slow, hollow toll.
It was midnight.
And he was being watched.
He felt it—not with his eyes, but with his blood. A chill ran down his spine, not from the breeze but from a presence that scraped against his spirit like iron across bone.
Veylan dropped from the ledge into the alley below, landing in a crouch. Dust spiraled upward from his landing, catching the moonlight.
Figures moved in the shadows. Men in silver armor. Eyes blank. No breath in their movements. No soul behind them.
He ducked behind a barrel and whispered, "Sentinels. Not human."
Their skin was too smooth. Their steps too silent. Their armor bore no symbol—only polished steel, reflecting the night. They walked past without reacting, but Veylan knew—they weren't patrolling.
They were searching.
And they didn't blink.
He watched them vanish around the corner before slipping into the shadows, heart pounding. Every instinct told him to run—but he didn't. Not yet. He had to understand. If Diana knew about the Goddess, then she knew much more. Perhaps everything.
What was she really?
A queen?
A puppet?
Or something far, far worse?
---
At the same time, Cael sat in the royal garden.
Again.
He didn't remember walking there.
Didn't remember changing clothes.
Didn't remember the taste of the wine in his hand—though the cup was already half-empty. It tasted of roses and honey, and yet something colder lingered on his tongue.
Princess Diana stood before him. Her long hair was braided with silver vines, eyes glowing faintly with moonlight.
"You're becoming yourself again," she said, her voice smooth as silk, as if it knew every wound he'd ever suffered.
Cael blinked. "I don't… understand."
"You were born to protect. But power has twisted you. You've been carrying a world on your shoulders so long, you forgot what it feels like to kneel."
Cael tensed. "I don't kneel."
Diana stepped closer, her hand resting lightly on his chest.
"Then why does your heart already obey me?"
A pulse ran through him. His vision flickered.
For a heartbeat, he saw not Diana—but something behind her.
Chains. Fire. Screaming wind.
A woman—winged and broken—reaching for him with eyes full of stars.
Cael stumbled back.
"What was that?"
Diana smiled calmly. "The last scream of your past. Let it go, Cael. Stay. Serve me. You don't need to carry your pain anymore."
Cael shook his head slowly…
…but didn't walk away.
His thoughts swirled like smoke. Every time she spoke, something inside him softened. The fury. The memories. The war. All faded like ash on the breeze.
He remembered the moment the portal closed.
The world they left behind.
The friend they failed to save.
And yet…
Here, there was no fire. No death. No screaming children. Just gardens and stars.
Was this not peace?
And if it was peace… why did it feel like sleepwalking into a coffin?
---
Veylan returned to the inn near dawn.
Cael's bed was cold.
Untouched.
Veylan frowned. Something was wrong.
His partner—the man who once scorched battlefields with a glance—had been too quiet lately. Too still. Too calm.
No fire in his eyes.
Just… peace.
And peace didn't suit Cael.
He poured himself water from the clay jug on the nightstand. It tasted strange. Too sweet.
He spat it out.
They were being drugged.
They were being pacified.
Veylan slammed his hand against the wall, cracking the plaster. "She's already gotten to him."
He looked out the window. The sunrise came in golden streams over the city. It looked beautiful.
But Veylan knew better.
A beautiful lie was still a lie.
He stepped away from the window. He had work to do. Answers to find. Before Cael was lost forever.
---
In the palace dungeons, beneath forty feet of blessed stone, the Goddess stirred.
Chains trembled.
Eyes opened.
And—
Her voice, cracked, ancient, forgotten, whispered to the wind:
"The star-born has begun to fade."
The words scattered like embers through the ether.
All across Celestria, animals flinched. Lanterns flickered. A baby in the noble district began to scream.
A raven fell from the sky, stone dead.
In a chamber filled with mirrors and incense, the High Seer gasped, clutching her chest.
The vision had returned.
Flames. Chains. Wings torn by time.
And blood. So much blood.
The prophecy was beginning.
---
Meanwhile, in the dreamscape of her prison, the Goddess knelt beside a pool of memory.
She saw Cael—not as he was, but as he had been. Standing tall in the ruins of Solaris, armor cracked, eyes burning with fury.
She saw Veylan—laughing through a broken nose as he held back a swarm of shadows, his blade glowing with runes of the old tongue.
They had been warriors once. Champions. Symbols of rebellion.
Now?
One was asleep.
The other, alone.
And the chains around her wrists grew tighter every day.
She closed her eyes and whispered again:
"Do not forget yourselves. Do not forget me."
She pressed her hand against the glowing wall of her cage.
Cracks began to form.
---
In a quiet part of the city, an old man selling scrolls heard the whisper.
He dropped to his knees, weeping.
The old gods were waking.
And nothing—not even Celestria's perfection—could stop what was coming.
---
Back in the palace, Cael walked the halls in silence.
No guards stopped him.
No doors were locked.
Everything was… open.
Diana awaited him at the grand balcony. Below them, the city sparkled.
She turned, a smile on her lips. "You see now, don't you? This kingdom is peace. You were forged in war. But I offer you rebirth."
Cael stared at her. "You're hiding something."
She tilted her head. "We all do. Even you."
He stepped forward. "What's beneath the palace?"
Her eyes narrowed, just for a second.
And in that second, Cael remembered the wings.
The chains.
The scream.
---
Veylan moved through the underground passages.
Runes glowed faintly along the walls—traps, forgotten wards, magic older than Diana.
He pressed forward.
And then—he found it.
A door.
Not made of wood or stone, but of bone.
It pulsed with light. Whispered names.
He reached out—and it opened.
Inside:
The Goddess.
Chained.
Bleeding.
Eyes wide with starlight.
She met his gaze.
"Find him," she said. "Before he forgets who he truly is."
---
And far above, in the highest tower, Diana stood alone now.
She watched the moon drift behind a cloud.
And for the first time… her perfect smile began to crack.
The star-born was fading.
But the storm was just beginning.