The night was quiet. Too quiet.
I sat cross-legged in the abandoned courtyard, moonlight spilling across broken tiles and overgrown weeds. This place had long been forgotten, a ruined corner of the Thalos estate where no servants dared tread.
Perfect for what I needed.
I placed my hand over my chest, feeling the faint pulse of the newborn star within me. The warmth was fragile, like a flickering candle, yet it was there. Alive.
"Awaken," I whispered.
The glow spread faintly across my veins, threads of silver crawling under my skin. Pain followed, sharp and raw, but I gritted my teeth.
If I wanted to survive the Constellation Trials, I needed more than luck. I needed control.
But the more I tried to shape the power, the more it rebelled wild, unstable, threatening to tear me apart.
"Pathetic."
The word cut through the night, cold as ice.
I froze. Slowly, I turned.
Aster Caelum stood at the edge of the courtyard, his cloak rippling in the moonlight. His silver eyes gleamed, reflecting the star-light crawling through my veins.
My heart lurched. "Your Highness"
"Do you wish to die so soon?" he interrupted, stepping closer, his boots silent against the broken stone. "Awakening without guidance will only destroy you."
I clenched my fists. "Then teach me."
The words left my lips before I could stop them.
Silence. His gaze was sharp, unreadable, as though weighing my worth. For a moment, I thought he would laugh, dismiss me as the useless boy I was supposed to be.
Instead, he stepped closer, until the night air thickened with his presence.
"Sit," he commanded.
I obeyed.
He raised his hand, fingers tracing faint sigils in the air. Silver light formed intricate patterns that drifted down, settling against my chest. My star pulsed in response, steadier beneath his control.
"Breathe with it," Aster said. His voice was low, measured. "Do not fight the star. Flow with it."
I closed my eyes, following his words. Slowly, painfully, the chaos within me began to settle, like waves calming under a moonlit tide.
When I opened my eyes again, the threads of light in my veins were no longer wild they pulsed rhythmically, like a constellation forming.
Aster studied me, expression unreadable. "Better. But still weak."
I exhaled shakily, sweat dripping down my neck. "Weak… but improving."
For the first time, a faint curve touched his lips. Not quite a smile something sharper, darker.
"Do not mistake improvement for strength," he said. "At the Trials, the world will tear you apart if you falter."
His words were harsh, but his presence was grounding. For the first time, I felt a spark of something guidance, perhaps even protection.
Before I could respond, a sharp rustle came from the shadows.
Both of us turned.
A figure stood at the edge of the ruined courtyard, eyes wide, mouth open in disbelief.
It was my half-brother Calen.
He had seen everything.
And the smirk curling on his lips promised nothing good.