Starborn

STARBORN

CHAPTER ONE

A slightly muffled chime rings in my ears, awakening me from my slumber. My eyes snap open to meet the kingdom of Cinedime smiling at me from afar, although sadly, its face is blotched with patches of gray and black. Once before, the planet was an assortment of vibrant greens and blues. I am surrounded by a vast starscape filled with little twinkles floating along as wisps in this sea of black.

These are no ordinary stars. Bound by an eternal duty, one that a commoner would call a curse, those of my kin are brought to the sky to rest as stars after an untimely death. When our time comes, we are released from the sky, destined to fall back to the planet to preserve the Calignis, the Flame of Existence on its surface. Such is the fate of the Netherbane. Such is the way, and so the fire may burn eternal.

A sliver of bright light creeps its way past the planet as the moon clutches the sun's rays and bounces their light towards me. A tranquil blue light envelops my body as I plummet towards the surface at full speed. The clouds fade to reveal the tainted beauty of Cinedime before my eyes. The withered trees, the rivers, the rolling hills, and the nearly set sun to the west. A sealed grave awaits me after passing through a thick layer of leaves and branches.

Soon, I see nothing. Nature’s scent intoxicates me heavily as I'm able to move again, my lungs struggling to catch my first breath. I scratch away at my prison, my body prying out of the ground. I brush soil and pebbles off, and I cough up some of the loose soil in my throat. When I press lightly against my weary chest, I feel a rip in my tunic right where my heart pulses, but there are no bloodstains and no wounds on my skin.

My forearm still has the same marking. Drawn in the same blue color as my Auryn, my emblem forms a shape depicting a sword piercing cleanly through the full moon. The noticeable mark of one born of the Netherbane. If only I knew who buried me as nobody in my clan would dare touch the corpse of their fallen brother, or else they risk dishonoring his memory. Whoever they were must have assumed I had no honor left to hold.

Getting up to my feet, my legs feel limp and boneless. Soon, I amble out of the woods and eventually find a trail, cutting from the west towards the east. So I scamper along the path quickly, motivated by the hope of a warm meal and dry shelter wherever this path takes me. But first, I must first find a Celestial Well. Anybody who drops their pails inside these ancient crevices hoping for a drink will be disappointed to find they spare no water, but instead, they provide gateways to Vim springs.

Vim is the essence of the planet, purity in its visual form. We have weaponized this mystical energy for centuries, using it only for self-defense. But this extraordinary power requires one signature ingredient- an ember of a Netherbane's Auryn. Withdrawn from the taste of the magic flame, the Wells soon go cold, and the light will diminish from the planet. My Auryn is strong, but it cannot last long as is.

Looking around, I noticed the grass is sickly and nearly as gray as the sky. The trees still stand but they look so weak, a slight kick would drop one to the ground. All that accompanies the sky are murky clouds instead of flocks of gulls. These bleak sights make the hairs on my neck quiveringly stand. The trail is coming to a close, and there is a village just ahead, small but spacious enough to hold upwards of fifty.

Alas, as I enter the village, the hope in my heart starts to fade at just the sight of such a drab, empty settlement. An assortment of shoddy wooden buildings await me, with a sign standing nearby displaying the word 'SALSBURY' sloppily written in black paint. There are no civilians, no livestock, not even the sounds of any mechanisms working. I can see a mill built by a small stream, with its giant wheel turning slowly from the flowing water, but there is nobody gathering flour. There is an open blacksmith, but the kiln looks cold and nobody is pounding any hammers. Over a small bridge arching over the stream is a wooden chapel, and the sight of the majestic building puts a smile on my face. In my day, it was customary that denizens built every village around a Celestial Well, where it shall be housed within a sturdily built chapel and be worshiped regularly.

But before I can reach the chapel, I feel a pulse in my chest that rings from the tip of my skull to the soles of my feet. It is my Auryn chiming, telling me that something is close by. Something hostile. Soon, I can hear the low groans they emit when they sense light. They appear almost instantly from the ground, from inside the houses, and around every other dark crevice, surrounding me quickly. I remember those red beady eyes they all share that only belong to one group of vile creatures.

Fiends.

Commoners are not as lucky as the Netherbane when they die. Instead of rising to the sky and resting as stars, their spirits are taken by the dreaded darkness of the planet. Dark is an unfathomable occurrence that I have never been able to fully understand. Darkness lives in all things and all places, waiting and plotting to take an unfortunate soul. These Fiends, I'm they were once kind-hearted people, but now they live without any sense of satisfaction. While mindless, each Fiend utilizes their shadow to form sharp talons made of pure dark to replace their hands, with the intent of ripping a person apart limb from limb.

I have no other choice but to retreat, as my Auryn is so weak that I can almost hear it crying. I find an opening from the crowd of Fiends, and I run as fast as my legs can carry me towards an open window. The spirits chase after me as much as they can, but it’s easy to outrun them since they move so slow. More of them start to rise around me, some closer than I expected. Reaching the window, I quickly make my way through and press myself against the wall out of sight. I can hear the Fiends still groaning as I give myself a chance to look through the window into the heart of the village. All I see is a horde of dark ghouls and red eyes, wandering and squirming like rats.

"Are you okay?"

And then, a gentle prayer echoes in my head, such as wind coursing through a cave.

"Hello?" I think, trying not to open my mouth.

One common trait among those that follow the light is the art of telepathy. Like saying a prayer, we can share our thoughts with another of our kin.

"Did they hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine."

It sounds like a girl. Her voice is sweet and innocent.

"My name is Triton. What's your name?"

"I'm Ameline."

"Ameline. That's a nice name."

"Are you here to save me? My grandpa said he was gonna go get help, but that was a few days ago."

She sounds like she is on the verge of dying, either from thirst or hunger. Or even of fright.

"Those things show up whenever somebody new comes to visit. They haven't found me yet, though."

"Good. Your grandpa didn't send me, but I'll help you get out of here. Stay where you are, then I'll come and find you. Okay?"

"O-Okay. I'm at the chapel, up on the roof."

When I peer again outside the window, I look further into the village where the chapel stands. There’s the girl, resting haphazardly up on the roof. I can plainly see her long blue hair that flows slightly in the breeze. I quickly move between covers, having to keep peeking around corners to be sure there is not another Fiend close by. The slightest sound louder than my soft footsteps, and they’ll all target me again. Finally, I sprint across the bridge, hearing some of the Fiends emit louder groans when I run by them.

When I push through the doors, I quickly shut them behind me. There's wood scattered around the floor of the chapel, either from one of the many broken pews, or they are pieces of the demolished ceiling. One of the beams that supported the roof has fallen, now acting as a bridge leading up to the rafters. The chapel's Celestial Well stands near the back wall, ideally in the center of a small pedestal, standing out from the rest of the dull interior. My heart sinks to see that the Well has a layer of dust formed on its bricks.

I start to focus on the center of my palm, envisioning a tiny ball swirling in my hand. After a tingling sensation, like tiny embers flowing in a cyclone right in my palm, my Auryn appears cradled in my fingers. Just as I remember, it is a tranquil blue, yet its flames are pitiful. I allow the orb to slide out of my hand and into the Well. Its light illuminates the inside of the crevice, showing the ancient scribbles of my forefathers, which I've never been able to read. Instantly, blue light fills the room, and the sound of a crackling fire rings throughout the chapel. The Well now thrives with tiny blue flames creeping just up to its top, but not close enough to spew out onto the floor.

I have to show no aggression, nor a struggle to feel a surge of power. It requires patience and a quick recital of an old prayer.

O great flame that burns so bright

Bless me to carry thine light

For as I vow to remain pure

I serve thy grace forevermore

Soon, I can feel a rush of heat throughout my skin, and my eyes feel less heavy. Vim starts to swim through my body once again. I had almost forgotten how satisfying it feels to be completely rejuvenated.

But suddenly, I feel that same pulse again. Then, a man rises from a shadowy corner and growls at me in a frightening low sound, like a Fiend himself. His eyes are red and senseless, just like theirs. But he is wearing traditional monastic robes to symbolize his affiliation with the Ring of Fire, the great Heralds that leads Cinedime on the path of purity. These individuals are to be revered and shown utmost respect when in their presence, as without their constant prayers to the Wells, the flames would lack in strength. This Herald, however, has been taken by one of those dreadful Fiends. Whatever honor he once held has now been replaced with this monstrosity.

A Shadowheart.

The old man starts to gnash his lips like a rabid beast, forcing me to step back when he lunges at me. His growls must have lured the swarm of Fiends outside the chapel, as their similar groans start becoming louder and louder. He presses me roughly against a wall. The old Herald opens his mouth wide like he was going to swallow me whole.

"Grandpa!"

Then, at the sound of the frightened girl, the old man loosens his grip and looks up at the ceiling. Ameline is up there, peering down from a hole in the roof. The old Herald, with a twisted smile, steps away from me.

“Ameline. Come to me, my sweet!”

Suddenly, the Herald quickly melts into a dark, sentient pool that creeps up the wall at such great speed until it fades through the ceiling. I hear running footsteps followed by Ameline screaming for her life. More gnashing growls come from the Fiends outside as the door swings open, and they start to pour into the chapel. I clamber up the fallen beam, but the rotted wood breaks as soon as I am near the ceiling, so I jump as hard as possible to get to the rafters. I hear the broken beam slam into the ground. When I look down, I see a flood of darkness and dozens of little red beads swarming inside the chapel. I frantically tear away pieces of lumber in the hole to make enough room to crawl through, just in time to see Ameline trip before me. The crazed Herald looms over her with his fingers clenching.

“Now now. Come to me, my child.”

However, now with my Auryn full, I can finally wield the only weapon greater than the strength of dark. Only one power can cast away the curse that has claimed the old Herald. A fierce swipe of my dominant hand releases my Auryn, and my blade appears in my fist, flickering like a flame itself.

My loyal Vim Sword.

I stand before the girl, hearing her confused whimpers behind me. The Herald growls and races towards me with malice in his eyes, and I waste no time in plunging my sword in his abdomen. With his body leaning into mine, I hear Ameline let out a loud sob just as the old man drops to my feet. His blood smears my hand, and his eyes have grown dull. Ameline crawls to him and holds the old man's head close to her chest, her tears falling onto his cold skin.

"Grandpa!" she cries. "Please don't leave me!"

But she scurries away when a pool of dark forms under the old man's corpse. The pool slinks away and it stops just before the hole in the roof. Soon, I can see dozens of smaller dark puddles starting to leak out from the hole, adding to the darkness before it starts to rise and transform. The Fiends slowly become a large mass of pure shadow. Long claws on each of its hands signify a beast far greater than an average Fiend. It's so large that it has to crawl like a bear to support its weight. Small horn-like formations poke out from its head and arms. The Fiend growls and suddenly raises one of its claws, forcing me to dodge before the giant pincer stabs fiercely into the roof tiles.

I parry another attack once I get to my feet, but it uses its other claw to force me away. It has started to crawl nowhere near my direction like it was only trying to push me out of its way while it was searching. The Fiend starts to crane its head to the ground, almost like it's looking for a scent, just as Ameline scampers away. The Fiend tries to chase after her before I catch it in its path, and I start frantically slashing at the monster. Every cut makes the Fiend roar even louder as it stampedes around the roof, still trying to strike me with one of its large claws.

Finally, I hold my left hand up to my chest and ball my fingers into a tight fist. The skin of my hand starts to glow as I keep my stance as strong as a brick wall. The Fiend stands on its hind legs, its claws ready to impale me with all the strength it can muster. I close my eyes, and I quickly swat at the air, feeling the Fiend's body pound against my knuckles.

PONDERO!

A common defensive maneuver, in which the skin becomes as impenetrable as steel. Pondero is used in place of shields by my people to improve agility. Its strength can push back even the mightiest of attacks with ease, as long as its wielder has precise timing and, of course, enough Vim in their body.

The Fiend roars pathetically, its guard broken enough for me to finish this battle. I plunge my sword deep within its abdomen, and the beast growls and thrashes about. Then it freezes in place before it bursts, its shadow purged entirely, and all that is left is a floating wisp of light. The orb dances around before it quickly darts into my chest, and I feel a burst of heat from my Auryn. Now, the flame feels stronger inside me, much warmer than before. I can even feel my muscles tense and grow slightly stronger from absorbing the wisp.

It's at this moment that I'm reminded of an old saying- 'A dying ember tinders a greater flame.'

Little Ameline stands before me, her head bowed in mourning. She's a small girl with long blue locks, long enough to reach her back and with a tight braid across her crown. She wears a light green dress that looks wrinkled and torn slightly. She has golden eyes, almost like shiny coins.

When I peer down from up here on the roof, now that the Fiends have all been casted away, the village looks drab and lifeless. The only sound in the air is the creaking of the mill wheel.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

She doesn’t look at me. All she can do is shake her head.

“Good,” I say. “Now, let’s get off this roof.”

I climb down the side of the chapel, with her clinging onto my neck tightly. She continues to sniffle into my shoulder, never raising her wet nose. Feeling her on my back makes me cling tighter against the walls. The moment I reach the ground, she gets off my back and looks around her home. I can only imagine the thoughts tumbling around in her little mind. Before long, Ameline sprints away, her soft weeping becoming a heartbroken sob. She barges into a house just near that old mill.

When I step inside the house to talk to her, I notice there’s hardly any room for two people to live here, or even one. Everything is packed together with barely any room to walk. The living room has a furnace with a tiny spit to roast meat on its top. There is a round dining table with only two small stools- a framed drawing of two figures, one being smaller than the other, sits on the dining table- a wooden rocking chair stands in the corner, with a pipe on top of another small table- stacked near the chair is a pile of sloppily organized books.

When I go into the next room, I can see two beds with matching pillows, neither of them made. Ameline is curled up in the larger bed, digging her face into the pillow and clutching a small, hand-woven doll with tiny button eyes, long strings for hair, and a brown dress.

She tries to hide her eyes when she notices me looking at her.

“I’m sorry about your grandfather. I’m sure he was a great man.”

Ameline still doesn’t look at me, but I can hear her sniffling getting softer.

“Why did he turn into that thing?”

“Well, that’s what happens when people die. They turn into Fiends. That’s why it’s important to use the fire in the Well, so people can protect themselves.”

“But it was gone!” she yells. “Where did the fire go?”

“I don’t know. But it’s my job to get rid of the Fiends, and to bring the fire back. I’m sure there’s plenty of other places just like this that they’ve taken over, since I’ve been dead.”

“You were dead?” she says, finally looking back at me. “How long were you dead?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “But far too long.”

I kneel down to her level, making her retreat back into her pillow. “But listen. I can’t leave you here by yourself, and I can’t stay here. So you’re gonna have to come with me.”

“But… if you’re gonna be fighting the Fiends, who will take care of me?”

I show her a friendly smile. “I will. I’ll take care of you, and I’ll protect you. I promise.”

She doesn’t answer me. Her eyes just keep twitching before she turns her back to me and hides her face in the wall, my words obviously not being enough to cheer her up. With nothing else left to tell her, I leave her alone to mourn her loss. But whether it be the denial in her face or her failure to find a reason to stay, I pray for the morning to come quickly.

I could barely sleep last night, as I kept myself awake by thinking about everything I had seen so far. From the village of Salsbury being so empty that I could hear my footsteps, to the majestic chapel losing its luster to the dreaded darkness, to that dear old Herald that became such a terrible Shadowheart. I could hear Ameline weeping into her pillow all night, just muttering the word ‘Grandpa’ in mourning. I could imagine myself at her age being dissatisfied and aching for more out of life, away from such a small and drab village. And yet she seems to be content with living in a cramped home with an elderly Herald.

When she wakes me up, she has a weary look in her eyes. I tell her she can take whatever she can carry with her. So she packs her straw doll, that picture on the dining table, and her Grandpa’s reading spectacles. She puts them in a wicker basket, along with all the food left in the pantry- three carrots, two bread rolls, and a stale sweetcake. Before she is ready to go, she puts on a dark yellow cloak with a matching hood sewn on the back, though the hood doesn’t look wide enough to cover her long hair.

We split one of the rolls in half for breakfast. I make sure to pray to the still alighted Well in the chapel before we leave. When we finally depart, Ameline never looks back. I could imagine she is trying to keep herself from giving her home one last glance the further we walk away. After all, she’s left with only a stranger to look after her.

We stop at the top of a small hill after a few hours of walking. Just as soon as she sits down, Ameline kicks off her boots and starts rubbing her soles. I take one of the carrots, she takes another. Now we only have one left, along with the last bread roll and the sweet cake. She tries biting into the cake, but it makes a loud crunch, and the sugar must have diluted. She spends a few minutes trying to spit the taste out of her mouth.

“We should be getting close to another village. Then we’ll stock up on some better food,” I say. “Maybe some fresher cakes. Would you like that?”

She looks at me with those golden eyes, but she still doesn’t say a word, and instead she goes back to picking up her doll and swinging it around gently. It’s almost like she’s afraid of me, with how much she doesn’t want to talk. When I look at the sky, I’ve never noticed how small the sun is, compared to the moon at night. It’s like comparing a pebble to a stone.

“How did you come back?” The sound of Ameline’s voice almost makes me jump. “You said you died.”

“Oh, everyone in my family can come back after they die. See this? That means I’m a Netherbane,” I say while pointing at my emblem.

“There’s a story that a very long time ago, someone in my family received a blessing from the moon. We call her the Great Mother. She gave my ancestors the holy flame, the Calignis. That’s what makes my people very powerful. So when a Netherbane dies, they turn into stars and wait until they can come back, so the flame will never go out.”

“So… only you can come back to life. Nobody else,” she says as she looks up to the sky. “That’s not fair.”

“What do you mean?”

“How come it’s just you? Why does my Grandpa have to stay dead but you can come back?”

I don’t even have the words. I never thought of that, and it stings a little worse when I hear it from a child. She can see the lack of explanation on my face, which makes her lose her scowl.

“If it makes you feel better, now that I think about it, I too think it’s unfair. People like me can come back staying the way we were while everyone else has to turn into Fiends. But I can’t change that, and neither can you,” I tell her.

Ameline looks like she wants to argue, but her face instantly becomes awash with emotion, and she looks away.

“But there is some good in it, I think. Have you ever seen a falling star at night? That’s one of my relatives, coming back to the planet. Some people used to say those who saw those falling stars would be granted a wish.”

“I saw a falling star last night,” she asks. “I made a wish on it.”

“Oh? Well, what’d you wish for?”

“Well… I wished that I could find my parents.”

“Your parents? What happened to them?”

For the first time, she looks at me and she doesn’t look sad or angry. She just has a neutral look, a face that is joyless, but worriless. It isn’t much, but it’s refreshing to avoid a tear rolling down her cheek.

Over the next hour or so, she tries to tell me all she knows about her young life. She can’t remember much about her old home except it was bigger than the one in Salsbury, but it was only because she was no older than three when her parents mysteriously disappeared. She can’t remember the last time she saw her parents, but she does remember their faces and their voices. Then all of a sudden, one day she found herself in her village’s orphanage, run by who she calls ‘a wicked old witch’ named Miss Penngrove. Miss Penngrove would often send her to the cellar whenever children would step even a toe out of her organized line, such as whenever a chore wasn’t done right or if you ever raised your nose at her. From the way she flinches at just the mention of the cellar, I can imagine Ameline spent maybe weeks within those dark, cold walls. But Ameline starts to look a bit more content when she mentions the day that an old Herald came by, saw her, and instantly wanted to adopt her. And from that day forth, Ameline called the old man her Grandpa, and from him, she learned how to read and write.

But when she starts asking me questions about my own parents and my own life, all I can tell her is my father was the king, and my mother was the queen. The other questions she had, I couldn’t answer- my memories remain fuzzy, spare for a few common occurrences back in my time. Even when I try to force myself to recall the sights and voices of those I once knew, I can’t find the image or the sound. Nothing comes to mind. And so, she continues to frown.