The Mark of the Starborn

The morning sun crept slowly over the horizon, casting golden rays through the trees and illuminating the village of Aetherwood in soft light. Birds chirped overhead, and the gentle rustle of leaves stirred the air. To the villagers, it was just another peaceful day. But for Elias, everything had changed.

He stood before the mirror in the small washroom beside Mrs. Tamsen's cottage, his shirt pulled aside, eyes wide with disbelief. On his chest, just above his heart, was a glowing mark like a tattoo made of starlight. It shimmered faintly, pulsating with the same rhythm as the stone he now kept hidden beneath the floorboards of his room.

The mark looked like an ancient constellation: a central star surrounded by six smaller ones in a spiral pattern, connected by fine glowing lines like threads of silver. It hadn't been there the night before. It had appeared after he returned from the forest, when the weight of exhaustion finally overtook him and he collapsed into bed.

Now it was a part of him.

He reached out to touch it, but the moment his fingers grazed the glowing lines, a wave of sensation washed over him—like warmth, familiarity, and… power. For a heartbeat, he could hear the whisper of stars again. Not words, not exactly, but the same presence that had spoken to him in the woods. It was as if the stars were alive… watching him.

He jerked his hand back.

"What is this…?" he whispered.

He had no answers. Only more questions.

The mark faded slightly, retreating beneath his skin like it had sensed his doubt. It didn't disappear completely, but it dimmed to a faint glow, one that could be hidden under clothing. That only made things worse. If the stars, or something connected to them, had chosen him, why now? Why not earlier? What had changed?

A knock came at the door. "Elias?" It was Mrs. Tamsen's voice. "Are you alright, dear? You didn't come down for breakfast."

"Coming!" he called out, hastily pulling his shirt over the mark.

When he stepped outside, the sunlight felt harsh, as if the world had shifted slightly off its axis. Everything seemed more vivid—the crunch of gravel under his feet, the scent of morning bread from the village oven, the way the birds moved in precise formation across the sky. His senses were sharper. Too sharp.

He kept his head low as he passed through the village square. Aetherwood was lively, as usual. Children laughed and chased one another past the well, while farmers loaded baskets of fresh vegetables onto carts. No one noticed the storm brewing beneath Elias's skin. They didn't see the mark. They didn't feel the change.

But someone did.

As he turned the corner past the old smithy, Elias felt a presence, someone watching him. His eyes swept the square, searching for the source. At first, he saw nothing. But then… by the far edge of the village, near the woods, stood a man he had never seen before.

Tall. Cloaked in black. Hood drawn.

The man didn't move. Didn't blink. His face was shadowed, but Elias could feel the weight of his gaze like a stone pressing against his chest. Cold dread pooled in his stomach.

Then the man turned and walked into the trees.

Elias hesitated, heart racing. Had he imagined it?

He took a few uncertain steps forward but just then, someone clapped him on the shoulder.

"Daydreaming again?" a familiar voice teased.

Elias turned to see Dane, his childhood friend and the village miller's son. Tall and lean, with messy brown hair and a permanent grin, Dane had always been Elias's one connection to normalcy.

"You look like you saw a ghost," Dane said, squinting at him.

Elias shook his head, forcing a smile. "Just didn't sleep well."

"Yeah, well, you'll sleep even worse if you're late for Elder Mere's errand. He's looking for you."

Elias blinked. "Me? Why?"

"No clue. But you better move before the old man has a fit."

Elias thanked him and hurried off, still shaken. As he passed through the village, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone or something was watching him.

The Elder's cottage sat at the highest point in the village, overlooking the market and the fields beyond. Elder Mere was old, with a long white beard and sharp eyes that seemed to miss nothing. Despite his frail appearance, his mind was as sharp as ever.

Elias knocked on the door.

"Come in."

He entered cautiously. The cottage was warm and cluttered with scrolls, dried herbs, and old relics hanging from every wall. Elder Mere sat in a carved wooden chair beside the hearth, nursing a cup of tea.

"You've changed, Elias," he said without looking up.

Elias froze. "What do you mean?"

The Elder finally met his eyes. "The stars have been restless. And last night… I felt a disturbance in the forest. A burst of energy. Very old energy."

Elias's mouth went dry. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me, boy." The Elder's voice was stern now. "You've always been different. I knew it the day you arrived in Aetherwood. You weren't left at Tamsen's door by accident. You were sent here. Hidden."

"Hidden from what?"

Elder Mere leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "From them."

"Them?"

The Elder didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached under his robe and pulled out a worn leather book. He handed it to Elias.

"This is the Codex Aetheria. Ancient writings. It speaks of the Starborn—beings chosen by the cosmos, marked by light, born to walk between worlds."

Elias opened the book with trembling hands. The first page showed a symbol—his mark.

His heart pounded in his chest.

"I don't know why the stars chose you," Elder Mere said quietly, "but they have. And that means your life will never be the same. Whatever you found in the forest… it was only the beginning."