Her name was Ivy,
but the world had always called her Astra.
Astra. Starborn.
A name meant to shine,
but also to warn.
She sat across from her mother in the hollowed hall,
the place where shadows listened
and silence remembered.
"Why am I here?" she asked,
her voice thin like smoke but steady.
Her mother's eyes, dark and endless,
met hers with both fire and sorrow.
"You are here because they fear what they do not understand.
Because you are the echo of everything I survived.
And because it is time you learned
how to take what is yours."
Ivy — Astra — nodded.
She had known fear,
but she had learned to wear it like armor.
"What is my next step?"
she whispered.
Her mother leaned close,
and for the first time, Astra felt the weight of legacy settle
like wings upon her shoulders.
"Your next step," Maleficent said softly,
"is to leave their world behind.
To move through it unseen,
but always remembered.
You do not ask for permission.
You do not wait for approval.
You take. You decide. You rise."
Astra felt something awaken inside her,
a soft and dangerous flame,
one that refused to be tamed.
"And if they call me villain?"
she asked.
Her mother smiled — a cruel, loving smile.
"Let them.
They have never understood me,
and they never will understand you.
Do not soften.
Do not beg.
Do not falter.
Darkness is not evil, Astra.
It is power waiting for a hand brave enough to wield it."
That night, Astra walked among the ruins of what they called her childhood,
feeling the sting of betrayal,
but also the pulse of possibility.
Her wings were not yet grown.
Her fire was not yet unleashed.
But she had seen the path.
And she would take it.
No apologies.
No regrets.
No chains.
The world would learn her name.
And it would tremble.