Whispers in the Void

Elias sat at the edge of the Elder's hearth, the Codex Aetheria open in his lap, its ancient pages crackling with every breath of wind. He stared at the symbol of the mark etched on the first page, its lines identical to the glowing constellation now on his chest. He traced the ink with his finger, unable to shake the feeling that his life was no longer his own.

Elder Mere stood by the window, his weathered hands clasped behind his back, gazing out over the village.

"Tell me everything, Elias," he said at last, his voice calm but firm. "Start from the beginning."

So Elias told him.

About the pull toward the stars, the flash of light in the forest, the glowing stone, the voice, everything. He spoke quickly at first, uncertain if any of it made sense, but as the words left his mouth, it felt like a dam had broken inside him. He'd been holding it all in for so long, the feeling of not belonging, the strange dreams, the sense that something out there was waiting for him.

When he finished, Elder Mere said nothing for a long while.

Then, finally, he turned. "The stone… you still have it?"

Elias nodded. "I hid it under the floorboards."

"You were wise to hide it. That stone is no simple trinket. It's an Aethershard, a relic from the time before the Shattering."

"The Shattering?"

"The sundering of the realms. Long ago, the cosmos was one—stars, worlds, planes all linked in harmony. But a war between celestial beings tore them apart. Portals closed. Paths shattered. The balance was lost." He walked over to the hearth and stoked the fire. "Only a few remnants of that time remain. The Aethershards. And the Starborn."

Elias's throat was dry. "Why me?"

"Because you were never meant to stay hidden." Elder Mere looked at him, his gaze sharp. "The mark proves it. The stars have found you again, and they've set you on a path that cannot be undone."

Elias shut the codex slowly. "What happens now?"

The Elder sighed. "Now, you learn. Before those who hunt the Starborn find you first."

Those words chilled Elias to the bone.

"Who are they?"

"The Veilbound," the Elder said. "A cult of shadow and silence. They serve something ancient, something older than the stars themselves. They seek to claim every Aethershard, and they destroy anything marked by the stars."

Elias's thoughts flashed back to the man in the woods. The figure cloaked in black.

"They're already here," he whispered.

Elder Mere's expression hardened. "Then we are out of time."

Suddenly, a wave of nausea crashed over Elias. The air around him warped. The hearthlight flickered. He clutched his head as a strange sensation like falling backward into endless space gripped him.

The world around him blurred.

And then— he was no longer in the Elder's cottage.

He stood in a vast, black void. Silent. Infinite.

The stars here were brighter, closer. And ahead of him floated a colossal figure, wrapped in robes of constellations, its face hidden behind a mask of obsidian.

The presence he had felt in the forest.

"You are waking, Elias."

The voice rang through the void like the chime of distant bells. Neither male nor female. Not human.

"Who are you?" Elias called, though his voice was small in the vast emptiness.

"I am the Watcher of Realms. The last remnant of what was lost. You were chosen not by accident, but by design."

Elias took a step forward. "Why me?"

"Because you are one of few who can hear the stars and walk the paths between worlds. Your kind has slumbered for an age. But the Veil stirs again. The old war is not finished."

Elias's heart thundered. "What do I have to do?"

The Watcher extended an arm, pointing to the constellation on Elias's chest. "The Aethershards must be reclaimed. If not, the balance will fall. You must gather them before the Veilbound find them. Before the shadow consumes all."

"And if I fail?"

The stars around the Watcher flickered, dimming with a terrible sadness.

"Then all realms will fall into silence."

With that, the void shattered.

Elias gasped and found himself back in the cottage, collapsed on the floor, Elder Mere hovering over him.

"Elias!"

He coughed, then blinked rapidly. "I saw it. The Watcher. They spoke to me."

The Elder paled. "Then it's true. The prophecy has begun."

Outside, a wind howled.

And far beyond the edge of Aetherwood, in the dark heart of the forest, the figure in the black cloak knelt beside the clearing where Elias had found the Aethershard. He pressed two fingers to the ground, eyes glowing faintly red beneath the hood.

"He's awakened," the figure whispered.

And from the shadows behind him, more cloaked shapes emerged—silent, waiting.

The hunt had begun.