When Star Fall

Tala burst into Elyn’s chambers, her breath still uneven from the long walk back from the ruins.

Elyn looked up from the tome she was studying, her sharp gaze narrowing at Tala’s disheveled state. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Tala hesitated. “I might have.”

Elyn closed her book with a quiet thump and leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”

As Tala recounted her experience in the ruins—the prophecy, the figure cloaked in darkness, the whisper of forsaken stars—Elyn’s expression darkened.

“The Last Starborn,” she murmured, tracing a symbol on her desk absentmindedly. “That prophecy was erased from most records centuries ago. If you found it… someone wanted it to stay buried.”

Tala’s stomach twisted. “Why? What does it mean?”

Elyn hesitated before answering. “There were Starborn who believed the light and the void were not enemies, but two halves of a whole. That perhaps, the Hollow King wasn’t always the monster we know him as.”

Tala stiffened. “You think the prophecy means I will fall?”

Elyn sighed, pushing back her loose curls. “I think you need to be careful. And I think the Council already knows more than they’re telling you.”

Tala clenched her fists. She was tired of secrets.

And she was tired of feeling powerless.

That night, the High Council summoned Tala to the Celestial Spire.

The chamber was dark except for the silver flames flickering in the air. The elders stood in a half-circle, their hoods casting long shadows across their faces.

Archon Verian stepped forward, his expression severe. “We know where you went, Your Majesty.”

Tala lifted her chin. “Then you know I deserve answers.”

Verian’s expression did not change. “The burden of the Starborn Queen is not to seek answers. It is to rule.”

Tala’s heart pounded. “How can I rule when I don’t even know the truth?”

Verian raised a hand. The room pulsed with magic. Tala gasped as an invisible force wrapped around her limbs—tight, suffocating. She felt it pressing against her skin, not physically, but in her very being.

A binding spell.

Her breath hitched. “What… what are you doing?”

“The power of the Starborn must be controlled.” Verian’s voice was calm, but unyielding. “You are still untested, Your Majesty. Until you prove you are ready, you will not overstep your place again.”

The pressure grew heavier. Tala gritted her teeth, refusing to let them see her struggle.

“You can’t—”

“We can.”

The chains of moonlight wrapped tighter.

And the stars above flickered.

Seren found her later, standing at the highest balcony, her hands gripping the stone railing hard enough to turn her knuckles white.

He had felt the shift in magic, the way the Council had done something to her.

“Tala,” he said softly.

She didn’t look at him. “They don’t trust me.”

Seren hesitated. “They fear what they don’t understand.”

“They fear me.” Tala finally turned to him, her silver eyes burning. “Tell me, Seren. If it comes to it—if they try to break me—will you still stand by me?”

The weight of the question pressed between them.

Seren didn’t answer immediately.

And for the first time in her life, Tala realized she wasn’t sure if he would.