The Astronomer's Warning

The weight of the king's decree pressed against Ophelia's chest long after she had left the throne room.

She was not allowed to return to her observatory, study the stars, or speak the name she had seen written in the heavens.

It felt like a cage closing around her, its bars forged not of iron but of silence.

Two palace guards flanked her as they led her away from the throne room, their presence a silent reminder that her freedom had been cut short. They did not touch her, but their presence was suffocating enough. She was no longer just an astronomer. She was something else. And that made her dangerous.

Through the towering marble corridors of the Ivory Palace, she walked in a daze. The sunlight filtering through the arched windows felt too bright, too harsh, as if the world outside was continuing on as usual, unaware that her entire existence had just shifted beneath her feet.

The echoes of her footsteps merged with the murmur of courtiers drifting through the halls. Some cast curious glances her way, their whispers curling like unseen tendrils around her ears.

"What is the court astronomer doing here so early?"

"She looks pale! Has she fallen from the king's favor?"

"They say she saw something in the sky last night, something unnatural..."

She clenched her fists, forcing herself to block them out. None of them knew the truth. None of them had heard the stars scream.

When the guards finally stopped in front of a massive set of gilded doors, she recognized where they had brought her.

The West Wing Library.

Confusion flickered through her. This was not a prison. It was a place of learning, of knowledge. But why here?

Before she could ask, the guards pushed open the heavy doors, revealing the vast expanse of the royal archives.

Massive bookshelves lined the walls, stretching from floor to ceiling, their carved wooden frames filled with tomes so ancient their spines curled like old parchment. Chandeliers of celestial design hung overhead, casting shifting patterns of light across the polished marble floor.

A single figure stood at the far end of the hall.

Master Thorne.

Ophelia's breath caught in her throat. The royal astronomer, her former mentor, the man who had taught her everything she knew about the stars. He had always been a presence of calm wisdom, his silver-threaded robes a sign of his devotion to the study of the heavens.

But now, as he turned to face her, his eyes were clouded with something that looked dangerously close to fear.

The guards said nothing. They only nodded to Thorne, then turned and left, the doors closing behind them with a finality that sent a chill through her spine.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then,

"You should have never looked," Thorne said quietly.

The words struck her harder than she expected.

Ophelia took a step forward, her pulse thrumming in her ears. "You know what I saw."

Thorne exhaled slowly, turning his back to her as he ran a hand over the gilded spines of the books before him. "I suspected. And when I heard of your summons, I knew for certain."

His fingers stopped on a book, its dark leather cover cracked with age. He pulled it from the shelf and turned to her.

"Tell me exactly what you saw," he said.

Ophelia hesitated.

She had always trusted Thorne. He had been her teacher since she was a child, guiding her through the vast mysteries of the cosmos. But today, something felt different. As if the air between them was heavier, tainted by something neither of them could name.

Still, she could not lie.

"The stars," she began, her voice softer than she intended. "They were moving. Not in their natural patterns, but as if... as if they were shifting deliberately. Vaelion burned brighter than it should have. And then..."

She swallowed, gripping her hands together.

"A falling star," she said. "But it wasn't just a star. It left a trail, like a scar across the sky. And when I traced its path.." She hesitated.

Thorne's gaze darkened. "You saw the name, didn't you?"

The room felt colder.

Ophelia exhaled. "Yes," she whispered. "Zoriel."

Silence stretched between them, thick as smoke.

Then Thorne stepped closer, lowering his voice.

"Listen to me, Ophelia. And listen well," he murmured. "That name has not been spoken in Seraphis for over a century."

Her breath hitched. "Then you know who he is."

Thorne's jaw tightened. "No," he admitted. "I know what he is. Or rather, what he was. And that is dangerous enough."

He pressed the old book into her hands.

Ophelia looked down at it, her fingers running over the worn leather. The title was nearly faded, but she could make out a single word etched into the cover.

"Starborn."

She frowned. "I don't understand."

Thorne's voice was quiet, but firm. "Read. But do so quickly. They will not let you keep it for long."

A sense of urgency laced his words, making her chest tighten. "The king! He said I was to forget what I saw," she said, looking up at him. "Why? Why is he so afraid of a name?"

Thorne hesitated, then exhaled.

"Because names have power, child," he said. "And that one has been buried for a reason."

A shiver ran down her spine.

She wanted to ask more, wanted to demand answers, but Thorne was already shaking his head, eyes darting toward the heavy doors of the library.

"We don't have time," he murmured. "If you wish to know the truth, you must read quickly."

Ophelia nodded, tucking the book against her chest.

She did not know what she expected when she came to the palace, but this, this felt like the beginning of something far greater than her.

As she turned to leave, Thorne's voice stopped her one last time.

"Ophelia," he called softly.

She turned, meeting his gaze.

"You must be careful," he said. "There are those who would kill to keep the past buried."

Her fingers tightened around the book.

She did not need to be told twice.

With a final glance at the vast library, she turned and slipped into the shadows, the weight of history clutched in her hands.

Outside, the sun had risen fully over Seraphis, its golden light spilling across the palace walls.

But for the first time in her life, Ophelia did not look up at the sky.

Because now, she was afraid of what she might see.