The night sky stretched endlessly above, a vast canvas painted with shimmering stars. Asteria lay on the rooftop of her home, as she did every night, tracing the constellations with her finger. She had always been drawn to the stars, their soft glow filling her heart with an unexplainable longing.

But tonight was different.

Asteria sat up suddenly, her breath catching in her throat. Among the countless specks of light, one star burned brighter than all the others. It pulsed like a heartbeat, flickering erratically as if something was wrong.

And then—it fell.

A streak of silver fire tore across the sky, illuminating the quiet village of Eldoria in an ethereal glow. Gasps and startled cries echoed through the streets as the villagers stepped out of their homes, shielding their eyes from the brilliance. The star plummeted toward the distant Silverpine Forest, disappearing beyond the tree line with a distant but powerful boom.

Asteria’s heart pounded in her chest. She had read old legends about fallen stars, but none had ever crashed so close to home. The elders would dismiss it as nothing more than a celestial event, but Asteria knew better. There was something calling to her—something waiting to be found.

She didn’t hesitate.

Slipping on her cloak, she climbed down from the rooftop and darted through the empty streets, moving like a shadow between the quiet houses. She knew her parents would never allow her to go alone into the forest, especially at night, but she wasn’t going to let fear hold her back.

The wind whispered through the trees as she reached the forest’s edge. The towering Silverpine trees loomed over her, their gnarled roots twisting across the ground like ancient veins. The air smelled of damp earth and pine, and the faint glow of fireflies danced in the distance.

She followed the scent of smoke and the eerie glow that pulsed deeper in the forest. Her heart raced with anticipation, her feet crunching softly against fallen leaves. The deeper she went, the more she felt a strange warmth washing over her—like the very air was alive with energy.

Then, she saw it.

In the middle of a small clearing, a crater smoldered, its edges glowing with embers. At the center of the impact, a sphere of light hovered above the ground, pulsating in slow, steady waves. The light wasn’t harsh or blinding, but soft, almost inviting.

Asteria stepped forward cautiously, her fingers trembling as she reached out—

And then the light shifted.

It pulsed once, twice—before slowly dimming, revealing something inside.

A figure.

A boy lay curled at the center of the crater, his body faintly glowing as if carved from the very essence of the stars. His hair shimmered with silver and deep midnight blue, reflecting the constellations above. His skin was smooth but marked with glowing veins of light, tracing delicate patterns across his arms.

Asteria’s breath hitched.

He wasn’t just anyone. He was something else.

Something not of this world.

She knelt beside him, hesitating before gently touching his shoulder. His skin was warm—warmer than any human’s should be. And then, just as she was about to call out, his eyes fluttered open.

Two celestial orbs stared back at her, swirling with galaxies and nebulae.

And then, he spoke.

"Where… am I?"

His voice was soft, distant, like the echoes of a song carried by the wind.

Asteria swallowed. "You… You fell from the sky."

The boy blinked, confusion clouding his features. He lifted his hand, staring at the glowing lines running across his skin. His fingers curled slightly, as if testing his own existence.

"I… fell?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t remember…"

Asteria’s heart clenched. Who was he? Why had he fallen? And more importantly—what did it mean?

A rustling in the trees snapped her back to reality. The village wouldn’t stay asleep forever. If someone found him, they would panic. They might call him cursed. They might hurt him.

Making a split-second decision, Asteria grabbed his hand. "Come with me," she urged.

The boy hesitated but nodded, allowing her to help him up. His legs trembled as if he had never walked before, but he leaned on her for support.

As they disappeared into the shadows of the trees, neither of them noticed the distant pair of eyes watching them from the darkness—cold, calculating, and filled with hunger.

The Eclipsed Ones had felt the star fall.

And they were coming.

Asteria moved swiftly through the forest, her pulse quickening with every step. The boy beside her struggled to keep up, his legs weak and unsteady, but she tightened her grip on his hand, guiding him through the thick underbrush. Behind them, the distant glow of the fallen star’s impact was beginning to fade, swallowed by the darkness of the Silverpine Forest.

The village would wake soon. If anyone ventured into the woods and found the crater, they would start asking questions. Questions Asteria wasn’t ready to answer.

They needed to move faster.

"You’re going to have to trust me," she whispered, glancing at the boy. His silver-blue hair shimmered faintly in the moonlight, and his glowing eyes darted around, filled with curiosity and confusion.

"I… I don’t know where I am," he murmured. His voice was soft, almost distant, as if it carried echoes of a forgotten world. "Or who I am."

Asteria’s chest tightened. He truly didn’t remember anything. No name, no past—only that he had fallen.

"We’ll figure it out," she assured him. "But first, I need to get you somewhere safe."

They weaved through the forest, avoiding the main paths and sticking to the shadows. Eventually, they reached the outskirts of the village, where Asteria’s small family home sat on the edge of the fields. The house was dark and quiet—her parents were still asleep.

She led the boy to the barn behind her house, carefully opening the wooden door and guiding him inside. The air smelled of hay and warm earth, and the soft glow of lantern light illuminated the wooden beams.

"Stay here," she said, guiding him to sit on a pile of soft hay. "I’ll get you something to wear. You, uh…" She gestured at his glowing skin. "Kinda stand out."

The boy looked down at himself, running a hand over his arms. The faint celestial glow pulsated with each heartbeat, fading slightly but never disappearing completely.

Asteria hurried inside her house, careful not to wake her parents as she grabbed an old tunic and a cloak from her father’s storage chest. When she returned, she found the boy staring at his hands, his fingers moving as if he was trying to grasp something unseen.

"Here," she said, offering him the clothes. "They might not fit perfectly, but they’ll help."

He accepted them hesitantly, slipping the tunic over his head. It covered most of the glowing lines on his skin, though the faint luminescence still pulsed through the fabric. He pulled the cloak tightly around himself, his hands disappearing beneath the folds.

Asteria sat down across from him, studying him closely. He was unlike anything she had ever seen—beautiful in a strange, ethereal way. Like a piece of the night sky given form.

"I need to call you something," she said after a moment. "Since you don’t remember your name."

The boy tilted his head slightly, waiting.

Asteria thought for a moment, then smiled. "Stary."

He blinked, the light in his eyes flickering. "Stary…" He tested the word on his tongue, then nodded. "I like it."

Asteria grinned. "Then Stary it is."

A comfortable silence settled between them. The events of the night still whirled in Asteria’s mind, but for now, she focused on the present.

"Do you remember anything at all?" she asked. "Even just a feeling?"

Stary frowned, as if struggling to grasp something just out of reach. "I remember… light," he said slowly. "Warmth. And then…" His brows furrowed. "Falling. Like I was being pulled down by something I couldn’t fight."

Asteria listened intently. "Do you think someone made you fall?"

"I don’t know." His glowing fingers clenched into fists. "But I feel like… something is missing. Something important."

Asteria didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, she offered a small smile. "Well, until we figure it out, you can stay here. Just lay low. If my parents find you, they’ll panic."

"Why?"

Asteria hesitated. "Because you’re… different. People fear things they don’t understand."

Stary considered her words before nodding. "I understand."

Asteria stood, brushing hay from her tunic. "I’ll bring food in the morning. Try to rest, okay?"

Stary nodded, but as she turned to leave, he spoke again.

"Asteria?"

She paused, looking back.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Something in his voice made her chest tighten. He sounded… lost.

She gave him a reassuring smile. "Get some rest, Stary."

As she slipped out of the barn and back toward her house, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just set something into motion—something far greater than she could yet understand.

And deep in the shadows of the forest, unseen eyes continued to watch.

The Eclipsed Ones knew.

And they were waiting.

The morning sun painted the sky with warm hues of gold and pink, but Asteria hardly noticed. Her mind was preoccupied with the events of the previous night. The fallen star, the celestial boy—Stary—now hiding in her barn, and the ominous feeling that something dark was watching.

She moved through her morning chores mechanically, her hands working while her thoughts raced. Her parents had already left for the market, which gave her the perfect opportunity to sneak food out to Stary without suspicion.

Gathering a small bundle of bread, cheese, and a flask of water, she made her way to the barn. Her heart pounded slightly—what if he had vanished? What if last night had been a dream?

But as she pushed open the wooden door, she found him exactly where she had left him.

Stary sat cross-legged on the hay, staring intently at his hands. The soft glow of his skin had dimmed slightly in the daylight, but the celestial patterns on his arms were still visible. As Asteria stepped inside, he looked up, his starlit eyes locking onto hers.

"You’re back," he said, as if he had doubted she would return.

Asteria smirked. "Of course I’m back. You think I’d leave a glowing star boy to fend for himself?"

Stary’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but there was still hesitation in his gaze. He looked down at his hands again, flexing his fingers. "Something is… strange," he murmured.

Asteria sat down beside him, placing the food between them. "What do you mean?"

He lifted his hand, and for a moment, nothing happened. But then—a flicker. A thin thread of light sparked from his fingertips, twisting in the air like a living ribbon before fading away.

Asteria’s breath caught. "You can control light?"

Stary frowned. "I don’t know. It feels… natural, like breathing. But something is wrong. It’s weaker than it should be."

Asteria studied him closely. "Maybe because you fell? Maybe you lost some of your power when you crashed?"

Stary’s expression darkened. "Maybe."

They sat in silence for a while as he ate. He didn’t eat like a normal person—he examined the bread carefully, as if unsure how to hold it, and took small bites as if testing the texture.

"You don’t remember eating before, do you?" Asteria asked.

Stary shook his head. "No. But I like it." He smiled faintly. "It’s warm."

Asteria chuckled. "You’re definitely not from around here."

The light mood didn’t last long. A gust of wind rattled the barn doors, and Stary suddenly tensed, his glowing veins pulsing slightly. His eyes flicked toward the entrance.

Asteria frowned. "What’s wrong?"

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes, his body going unnaturally still. Asteria watched in fascination as the air around him seemed to shift—like the very light in the room was bending around him.

Then, his eyes snapped open.

"Something is coming."

Asteria’s heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean? Something from the village?"

Stary shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "No. From the forest."

The barn suddenly felt colder. Asteria stood, rushing to the doors and peeking outside. At first, everything looked normal—the fields swayed gently in the breeze, the village rooftops visible in the distance.

But then she noticed it.

A shadow, darker than the rest of the forest, shifting unnaturally between the trees. It wasn’t moving like a person. It didn’t step or walk—it slithered, blending in and out of the darkness as if it was the darkness.

A chill ran down her spine. "What is that?"

Stary stood beside her now, his hands clenched. "I don’t know," he admitted. "But I do know it’s looking for me."

Asteria turned to him. "How do you know?"

Stary hesitated before speaking. "Because I can feel it calling my name. Not the one you gave me. My real one."

Asteria swallowed hard. "You remember your real name?"

His glowing eyes met hers. "No," he admitted. "But they do."

Asteria grabbed his wrist. "We can’t stay here. If they come into the village—"

"I know," Stary said, his voice tight with tension. "We have to leave."

Asteria’s mind raced. They couldn’t run into the open—the shadow would spot them immediately. They needed a place to hide. A place where the village wouldn’t look.

Then it hit her.

"The old watchtower," she whispered.

Stary frowned. "Watchtower?"

"It’s abandoned, on the cliffside past the eastern fields. No one ever goes there. We can hide there while we figure out what to do next."

Stary nodded. "Then we go."

Asteria tightened her cloak, peeking outside again. The shadow had moved closer. It was still watching. Still waiting.

They had to move now.

Without another word, Asteria grabbed Stary’s hand, and together, they slipped out into the morning light—unaware that their every step was being followed.

And that the Eclipsed Ones were already closing in.