The Stars Didn’t Align, They Lied

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

The cold air of the Sylvaine estate, particularly Lirien's residence, always carried a faint hum of magic, as if the very land breathed with ancient power.

Lirien stirred from his slumber, his body aching familiarly as if welcoming him from his sleep.

He could still feel the remnants of last night's pain—a dull throb beneath his skin, a whisper of power restrained.

The heavy drapes over his bed rustled slightly as Jeremiah, his ever-diligent attendant, entered the room.

The man's sharp eyes swept over Lirien's pale form, assessing his condition before speaking.

"You didn't sleep well again," Jeremiah noted.

He approached with a practiced ease, setting a tray of tea and light breakfast on the nearby table. "And I assume you skipped dinner last night."

Lirien didn't respond immediately. He pushed himself upright, the silk sheets pooling around him as he took a slow breath. "I wasn't hungry."

Jeremiah sighed, not bothering to mask his exasperation.

"You never are."

He moved to adjust the pillows behind Lirien's back before handing him the tea.

"The festival is approaching. You should be conserving your strength."

At the mention of the Winter Noctis Celebration, Lirien's grip on the porcelain cup tightened. The thought of standing before the entire capital, of performing once more, sent a quiet dread curling in his stomach.

"I am aware."

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

Before Jeremiah could refuse entry, the door opened, and Angelica stepped inside. She carried herself with effortless grace, her golden curls framing a face that had perfected the art of feigned concern.

"Dear cousin," she greeted, her voice light. "I heard you weren't feeling well again. How unfortunate."

Lirien took a measured sip of tea before glancing at her. "I wasn't aware my health was the subject of discussion."

Angelica's smile remained, though there was something sharper beneath it.

"The empire worries for its beloved Jade Mage."

She took a step closer, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "You should take better care of yourself."

Jeremiah, ever the watchful shadow at Lirien's side, intervened before the conversation could turn further.

"The young master needs rest. If you have no urgent matters, Lady Angelica, I must ask you to excuse yourself."

Angelica's gaze flickered toward him before she let out a soft, knowing laugh.

"Of course. I wouldn't want to impose."

She turned back to Lirien. "I'll see you at the festival, dear cousin."

As the door shut behind her, Lirien exhaled slowly. Jeremiah studied him carefully before speaking.

...

"She enjoys provoking you."

"It doesn't matter." Lirien set the empty teacup down, his expression unreadable.

"Prepare my schedule for today. I won't waste time in bed."

Jeremiah hesitated before nodding. "Understood."

Outside, the vibrant afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. The empire awaited its celestial protector, but for now, Lirien allowed himself the quiet moment before stepping back into the role they expected of him.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

Okjin awoke with a jolt, his mind foggy and confused. 

'Were those… Lirien's memories?'

Okjin's head throbbed as he slowly sat up, the fragments of Lirien's memories crashing against his skull in sporadic flashes.

 It was like trying to piece together a puzzle with half the pieces missing—and the ones that were there made absolutely no sense.

 He groaned, rubbing his temples.

"Of course," he muttered bitterly.

"Of course, the gods wouldn't give me all of Lirien's memories. Why would they? Why give me anything useful when they could just throw me into this mess and see what happens?"

His mind raced, frustration bubbling over.

 They didn't even bother mentioning that their precious 'star' was Lirien!

Why hadn't he questioned this? He'd practically begged for it.

He'd wanted to unravel the plot holes of the novel, to find out what made Lirien tick. 

But now that he was in the thick of it, the reality of his situation was sinking in.

He was in the body of someone who was meant to die—someone who wasn't featured enough in the novel for him to have any real clue about what events would affect his fate, not to mention the fact that most of his memories seemed to be sealed for some strange reason. 

What was he even supposed to do with this? How could he avoid the death flags when he didn't even know what they were?

"Great job, Okjin," he sneered, glaring at the rumpled bed sheets clutched in his fists. . 

'You were so eager to dive into this whole 'mystery-solving' thing that you didn't stop to think about the consequences.

Why didn't you ask more questions? Oh right, because curiosity killed the cat. Or in my case, it killed me fucking twice.' 

Bitter thoughts flooded his mind. 

He muttered and cursed angrily.

His own sarcastic tone almost sounded hollow to him now. 

How had he missed the biggest plot point? Why was he even chosen for this job?

He wasn't anything special—just some uni student who couldn't even survive all-nighters without ending up in a coffin!

"Why the hell would the gods pick me to be Lirien's vessel?" Okjin's voice cracked with the weight of his frustration. 

What makes me so worthy of being their 'exalted star'? I'm not even celestial, and now I'm in the body of a guy who might not even be human. Is Lirien actually mortal? Was he a celestial being? Was being the gods' star just a title, or is there more to this?

Okjin paused. He knew he was spiraling. 

" Damn it, none of this makes any sense!"

" Fu—!"

He stopped mid-curse, suddenly realizing something: He had absolutely no idea what was going on. Not really. The gods had played him.

"—ck…"

'fuck.'

Why'd they make me possess this body if they knew he was going to die? If he's some celestial, why kill him off like that?

 Okjin slapped his hand to his forehead, barely able to contain his sarcasm as he looked up at the sky and glared. 

"No, seriously, great job, gods. Send me in to rewrite the ending, but forget to give me the most important part—the memories. Was that part of the plan, too? A little extra fun for the 'star' who's got no idea what the hell he's supposed to do?"

His hand dropped, fingers curling into a fist. 

Despite everything, despite the anger that surged inside him, Okjin's thoughts were suddenly filled with mental images of the novel's mentions of a temple to the two gods. 

A stubborn, frustrating idea emerged with it.

"I'm going to that damn temple. I'll confront them about their little trick. If they're gonna screw me over, I'm at least gonna call them out on it."

Okjin took a deep breath, his resolve hardening. 

Whatever the gods were up to, he was done letting them pull the strings. He had questions, and he wanted answers. And if they weren't going to give them freely?

 Well, he'd make them.