Pinkytinkloo

Once, they reigned supreme over the Lunaris Kingdom: Nyara Goddess of Night,  Kail God of Night, and their daughter, Iyla, the Child of Night. But two centuries ago, the cruel hand of humanity struck them down, shattering their celestial reign. Betrayal led to their demise, their divine essence scattered across Earth. Now, reborn and unaware, they live mortal lives, their memories lost to the ages.

Nyara, a 24-year-old woman on Earth, bears a striking birthmark that mimics the night sky across her back and arms. This causes her to feel alienated from her family and the world, she always covers it up. A nagging sense of incompleteness haunts her, a void where a past life should be.

Kail, now 25, carries a strange birthmark from his chest down his arm, a faint echo of his godly past. He walks a lonely path, disconnected from those around him, feeling a profound sense of loss, as if something vital has been stolen from him.

In a secluded forest, a 5-year-old girl named Iyla was discovered as a baby in forest, abandoned and marked with radiant patterns from her shoulders to her arms. She resides in an orphanage, forever overlooked for adoption due to her unusual markings.

Veil Of Night

Months drifted by after the city celebrations, each one settling into its own rhythm of routine and change.

Kail, entrenched in the heart of Central City where his family reigned, found his life a carefully orchestrated dance between obligation and isolation. The Moreau family business demanded his attention, his ruthlessness, his very soul. Days were filled with meetings, negotiations, and the occasional "problem" that needed to be dealt with… permanently. He excelled at it, the coldness within him a shield against the horrors he committed. But the nights were a different story. The vastness of his east-wing solitude echoed his inner emptiness. The fleeting moments of levity he shared with Luca, Chad, and Jayden seemed to fade with the rising sun, leaving him with a gnawing sense of unfulfillment. The birthmark on his chest thrummed with a faint energy, a constant reminder of something lost, something he couldn't quite grasp. This sent him in a frenzy to find peace from the things are were killing. He went to clubs, bars and partys it was just for one night.

Nyara, nestled within her penthouse in the magic urban S City, found her own existence a carefully curated blend of duty and passion. She continued to teach art to the local youth, finding purpose in nurturing their creativity. Her family remained a constant presence, their love both comforting and constricting. The annual Alistair gatherings, the society events, the endless parade of social obligations – she endured them all, but with a growing sense of unease. Her nights were becoming increasingly haunted by night terrors. The dreams were more vivid, more terrifying, and more frequent. She saw fire, she heard screams, and she felt a deep, visceral sense of loss that clung to her long after she woke up. She confessed her fears to Zaila, who encouraged her to seek professional help. She talked to her mother too, finding comfort in Maya's gentle reassurances. Her artwork shifted too turning it dark instead of light colors

And then, on the outskirts of S City, Iyla's world crumbled. The months after the city celebration were filled with a growing sense of abandonment. One by one, the other children at the orphanage were adopted, whisked away to new families, new lives. Even Ella, the girl who had been so cruel, found a home. Iyla, with her star-marked arms and her unwavering belief in her long-lost mother, was overlooked. The hope was withering.

"You're going to live here forever, Iyla," Ella had sneered, just before leaving. "Nobody wants a freak like you."

The words, venomous and cruel, pierced Iyla's heart. The tears came, hot and heavy.

Chapter 17: Shattered Stars, Fading Hope