Chapter 1 - Aster

“When stars fall, heroes rise.” - Galaean proverb

Nysa’s screams shredded the silence in a grove filled with shimmering orchids resting under a cloudy night sky. The resplendent clearing had long been a favorite spot for her, but she’d never imagined filling it with such sacred pain. The dim purple light cast by shining flowers was just enough for her to see her feet as her heels dug into the tender earth.

Nysa was no stranger to the struggle of childbearing. Yet, this time she was alone in the middle of the night rather than depending on the support of her husband and the village. Some voice, some… thing had called her there; yet without the aid of the goddess Zoatroche, she was afraid. More than once, she nearly gave up, embracing an end beneath the elder tree instead of fighting on.

Still, she pushed. Gods, she missed the old days when she’d given birth to Phaea at the temple, with Haemon and the priestesses there to share in the burden. Back then, the gods still answered prayers and guided their servants. Their temples were places of common miracles. In the Era of Chaos, dreams no longer bore messages from the gods, but her dreams had summoned her to an empty grove resting under silent heavens.

She poured every drop of her willpower into continuing on, until she felt emptier than the dark cloudy sky above. As she felt herself fading, the bite of a cold breeze brought alertness back to her. She saw a star shooting across the night’s tapestry. A star that burned with a gleaming silver, and was visible even where the rest of the stars were not.

Stars moving in the realm above was no strange sight in Galae. The stars moved all the time, and it was never known if a constellation would be present for years, months, or minutes. Even ever changing, stars always stayed in the sky. This bright star dipped below the clouds as if guided by a divine hand. It captivated Nysa, whose eyes widened in rapturous awe.

Her gaze chased the star’s descent, its graceful arc becoming more erratic with each passing second. Profundity gave way to panic as she realized it headed straight for her. Her eyes squeezed shut, bracing for impact, but she felt only a warm sensation enveloping her body instead. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see a luminous purple orb hovering inches away from her stomach, pulsing with intense energy. Then, before she could even comprehend what was happening, the orb merged itself directly into her body, flooding her with mystical power. Her cheeks felt hot, and the sweat coating her body began to evaporate. Her muscles spasmed, and as she threw her head back she would have sworn that each and every star in the night’s sky pierced through the clouds in their brilliance.

She screamed, both in fright and pain, as her unborn child once again insisted upon its freedom. She pushed, roared, and pushed some more; a tuft of hair crowned, then the lively cries of a baby captured her heart. Her skin took on a glow to match the purple flowers all around. With one final screaming effort, her son was born.

Like torchlight receding into a deep tunnel, the radiance of her skin faded. She sagged, each limb feeling as if it would sink into dirt, but she forced shaking arms to embrace her boy. The memory of the orb of light and its effect on her began to fade from her mind until she could not recall it at all. Her mind drifted to how happy Haemon would be to have a son. She needed to return home with her child. Gazing up at the sky, she realized that clouds had parted and the brilliance of the starlit expanse was once again visible. She named her son Aster in honor of its splendor.

✹✹✹

“Hey Asteeeer, are you in there?” Phaea sang, dragging out his name and waving her hand in front of his face. “Daydreaming yet again, probably,” she muttered.

“Dreaming? No. At least I don’t think so... Not paying attention? Yeah, that I’m guilty of.” Aster flashed her a guilty smile as she playfully gave him a shove.

“Don’t I know it?” Phaea retorted, laughing to herself. “You’re nearly twenty, and yet still can’t keep your mind still.”

Aster sighed, turning his eyes from their lazy skyward vigil to the clearing below the outcropping they were perched atop. This was one of their favorite places to post for their hunts. It offered a passable vantage over the dense forest of their valley, while being close enough to one of the tributary creeks to still hear it burbling gently through leaves that danced softly on the breeze.

He found himself drawn to one particular spot of denser forest. A brief shudder of leaves eager to betray their guest told him he had spotted their quarry. “There! Looks like our hunt won’t take all day this time.”

Sighing, Phaea complained, “You always do that. You get to just doze off and not actually keep focused on the hunt. Then, at the perfect god’s torn moment, you just suddenly look at the right place. If I had that luck of yours…”

“I know, I know, you’d be the greatest champion Karipos has ever known. We’d all be bowing in submission and begging for just grain of your favor, oh mighty and powerful Phaea.” Aster bent in an exaggerated motion as he grabbed his bow from where he’d set it down. “Woah! A flamestag… and a big one at that.”

The beast that came into view was certainly large for a flamestag; it was nearly as tall as the village gates of Karipos, and strutted with the proud majesty of a king in his court. Phaea threw him a look, urging quiet as she gestured for them to move into position.

As they descended from their vantage point and got into range, each readying an arrow, Aster assessed their prey more closely. Heat blurred air obscured intelligent eyes, and it looked around with curiosity beyond that of a common beast. It also, importantly, was breathing fire through its nostrils and had antlers that ended in tips that burned red hot, as if they’d been freshly pressed into shape in the heat of a forge.

Steam rose from the ground around the beast, and even just looking at it made Aster feel sweat beading on his forehead. Though, that may have been from nerves as much as anything else. This one was definitely at the Awakened stage. They tried to only hunt Attuned animals, but lately they were increasingly hard to find.

According to elders, wildlife like this were extremely rare in the Gilded Era. Something about the Fall had caused nearly all the animals of Galae to grow and develop size, strength and even abilities. Thankfully, this one was still young so it probably couldn’t shoot fire like the ones from legend.

Aster took a deep breath of air that smelled of a day’s old campfire while eyeing the beast that looked like it could have walked out of one of his father’s old bedtime stories. His heart beat in his chest like ceremonial drums of the village Wardens, and he found himself hoping the Flamestag wouldn’t hear it as well. At Phaea’s gesture, he nocked an arrow and pulled the string taut. The sound of the sinew stretching tickled his ears as he took aim.

As they both released a deep breath, they also released their arrows in near perfect synchrony. As Phaea’s arrow pierced deep into the lungs of the beast, Aster’s took it in the throat.

The flamestag gave a surprised bellow accompanied by a burst of flame that set the nearby bushes alight. Turning towards them, its eyes glimmered with a fiery fury. It charged.

“Forsake us, this is going to be another rough one,” Phaea exclaimed, as they both dove into action.

Running to the left and fully in the open, Phaea quickly loosed two more arrows mid stride as the flamestag focused fully on her. One caught it in the flank, but it managed to jump out of the path of the second. Even at a distance of nearly twenty five paces, the oppressive heat surrounding the beast dropped beads of sweat into Aster’s eyes. He began digging through his sack frantically as the forest around him fell into a dangerous silence.

“Any day now!” Phaea called out to him as the flamestag lowered its blistering crimson horns to her.

“Got it!” Aster shouted, heart racing as he nearly fumbled pulling out a flask of swirling blue liquid. He really hoped this would work. He grabbed the spear he’d brought and ran at the stag, gripping the flask as he approached.

It seemed to sense him, however, and just before leaping into a charge straight at Phaea, it pranced to one side, reared its head back towards Aster, and released a spiraling jet of flame. Aster dove to one side, oppressive heat licking greedily at skin just out reach, and hurled the flask towards the flamestag.

For a precious and perilous moment, Aster felt as if time slowed as he tracked the flight of the bottled concoction. Aster was pulled back to reality when, moments before the flamestag was able to release another blast of fire, Phaea’s next arrow exploded the flask in a shower of glass and gleaming blue liquid imbued with the essence of elemental water.

The flamestag roared, but as it turned to cover Phaea in an inferno, only a mournful bellow escaped its snout.

"Now!" Phaea ordered. She dropped her bow and drew her shortsword while Aster lowered his spear and ran straight at the now frightened animal.

The once blazing heat emanating from the beast vanished as if blown away on a cool breeze, and Aster didn’t miss the moment to engage. As Aster’s spear sank into its side, Phaea dodged a sweep of its horns and opened a massive gash in its throat. With a final defeated huff of steaming breath, their quarry collapsed as they approached to reap their harvest.

Through panting breath, Aster said, “We should probably expect this to only get harder and harder. It feels like every season now these beasts grow in strength.” As he sank his knife into the monster’s hide, Aster’s weariness only grew while he continued to think about the trials they’d yet face while hunting, “Maybe as the alchemists continue making these essence vials they’ll get better and more affordable? These Attuned beasts may be a valuable kill, but if we can’t keep up with them…”

“You know,” offered Phaea while removing the stag’s tongue, “Thalysios told me he’d met a man who had actually become Attuned himself. I bet he’d have far less trouble with these.”

Aster scoffed and blew off the idea with a gesture of his hand. Thalysios was one of a few strangers to find their way to Karipos after being displaced by the violent storming of chaos. Aster had heard all sorts of wild claims from these outsiders, and none had ever been able to actually prove one.

“I’ll believe that when I see it myself. Until then, we need to figure out how we’re going to keep contributing to the village. We’re lucky to have survived that, and that’s the fourth close call we’ve had this month. I don’t think we can keep this up,” Aster replied.

Frowning, Phaea let Aster’s words sit on a tense silence.

Aster knew how much she enjoyed being able to hunt with him, and this wasn’t the first time he’d voiced his doubts. At last, Phaea’s frown vanished nearly as quickly as it had formed and in her teasing tone, Phaea retorted, “You could always fill out a bit and enlist as a Warden.”

“And stand around all day long bored out of my mind like Tokites? Gods, can you imagine something more painful? See, that’s why I choose not to grow tall and strong,” Aster laughed.

Phaea chuckled with him. “Ever wonder if all of Galae is going crazy like this? It sometimes feels as if we’re all on the verge of following the gods into the void.” Though before she could linger on the grim thought, she was back to her normal optimism, “Hey, at least we’ll probably all make it long enough for the celebration of your birth tomorrow! My little brother, already about to be twenty. You know I think some of the elders may have had bets going on whether or not you’d even make it this far.”

“I’ll be glad to have cost them their wagers, then,” Aster replied while he helped Phaea hoist the carcass of the flamestag onto their sled.

As they embarked on their trek back to Karipos, they continued to discuss logistics for the next day and make other small talk, both avoiding any further mention of the growing dangers of the world.

✹✹✹

That night, Aster dreamt. As was usual in his dreams, he was in Karipos.

At his gesture, the palisades collapsed and marble walls grew to replace them. The village expanded, his home replaced with a tower standing over the rest of the houses like a tree surrounded by grass. Flying to the top of the tower, he took his customary seat upon the throne of his dreamscape. As he pondered what new adventure to conjure, he noticed that, through the roof of his tower, the stars shone.

When he focused on them, the world flipped to night. The shining lights moved far faster than the stars usually did as he gazed upon them, and before he even realized it, he found himself standing in a dark empty space, surrounded on all sides by constellations both foreign and familiar. His attention was drawn to a constellation of an ominous tree, a winged figure that filled him with hope, and, then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted another silhouette. Focusing on it, it was as if the distance between him and the new figure vanished, and he was suddenly standing face to face with himself. Or, at least, someone resembling himself. The person before him mirrored his confused expression, the raise of his hand, and the scratching of his head. It was as if he was looking in a mirror, but what he saw wasn’t quite him.

In front of Aster was a man with his same dark and short wavy hair, the same small scar on his eyebrow from where a thrown rock had struck him when he was just ten, the same cropped beard, and the same neutral look he often wore. On this face, though, that neutral look seemed to radiate a quiet determination. Most notably, his reflection’s eyes were a startling purple as opposed to his own brown eyes. Finally, he realized, this reflection was just a little bit taller.

“What in all the realms am I looking at?” Aster wondered aloud. He felt his heart race. He was used to being in control. He was not used to seeing things conjured into his dreams that he himself had not imagined. How did he get here? Where did this mirror of him come from, and why did it seem to be just a little bit better than him in every forsaken way?

He had enough waking reminders of his insecurities, and it was cruel for his dreams to do so as well. As he gaped, the reflection began to fade. Just as it began to reach a transparency that let the stars behind shine through, he reached out and found himself yelling “Wait!”

His finger touched the finger of the reflection, who had also reached out in the same gesture. Suddenly, he felt overwhelmed with sensation. His body felt heavy, as if his blood was turning to stone in his veins. His thoughts were overcome and disrupted as he desperately clung to a sense of self, and he suddenly felt not just weaker than his normal dream self, but weaker than his waking self. He panicked.

Aster’s dream body began to erupt with light and dissolve into specs of light nearly indistinguishable from the stars around him. His eyes unraveled and his mind bled fear into his dreaming world.

Aster jolted awake only to find his body unresponsive. He tried to lift an arm, but it just laid by his side limply. His body was covered in sweat, and every single one of his muscles hurt as if he’d pushed it beyond its limits. Stranger still, his eyes ached.

He tried to scream, but couldn’t even make a sound. After thirty seconds that felt like thirty days, and with a groan of effort, he managed to sit upright and swing his legs off his bed. As he staggered to the doorway, he saw his sister Phaea in the small courtyard in the center of their home.

Phaea yawned as she looked at him, confusion passing suddenly over her face. She looked him over once again, brows furrowing as her mouth attempted to form more words than could be spoken at once.

Trying again, she closed her mouth, took a deep breath, and asked “Aster, why are your eyes purple?”