THE STARLESS MARK

Kade Thornwild never believed in destiny. Not the kind that chose people, at least. In his experience, destiny only chose the loud, the brave, or the ones foolish enough to run toward danger instead of away from it.

He wasn’t any of those things.

He was a stable boy in the village of Briarhollow—a quiet forest town where the loudest event of the year was the annual Turnip Festival and the most dangerous threat was tripping over a chicken in the early morning fog.

He liked it that way.

Peaceful. Predictable. Safe.

But everything changed on the night the sky lost its stars.

Just after dusk, while Kade was brushing down the horses, a strange deep humming filled the air. The lanterns flickered. The animals grew restless. Then, in a single blinding flash, every star in the heavens winked out—gone, as though erased from existence.

The village screamed. Children cried. Even the old elders muttered prayers under their breath.

But the worst part wasn’t the sky.

The worst part was the burning sensation that scorched across Kade’s forearm mere seconds later—like fire carving a brand into his skin.

He staggered back, clutching his arm.

When he dared to look, a mark glowed faintly beneath his skin, swirling and shifting like liquid silver—a shape he had never seen before, yet somehow recognized:

The Sigil of the Starless One.

The mark of the hero foretold to restore the shattered sky.

A mark that belonged to someone brave.

Someone powerful.

Someone else.

Not him.

________________________________________

THE CALL HE NEVER WANTED

News spread quickly.

By morning, a crowd surrounded Kade’s small cabin. Women pointed. Children whispered. Men stared with a mixture of fear and expectation.

Kade kept his sleeve pulled down, but gossip had already outrun him.

“That’s the Starless Sigil,” hissed Old Marna, gripping her cane like it might ward off evil. “The prophecy speaks of a chosen one.”

Kade shook his head so fast his vision blurred. “Chosen? Me? I’m not chosen. I shovelled dung yesterday.”

“Prophecy doesn’t care about your chores, boy,” Marna snapped.

A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd, but their eyes remained heavy with hope, desperation, and worry.

And something else.

Responsibility.

A word Kade hated.

He tried to leave the village square, but a hooded figure blocked his path—lean, tall, dressed in layered robes embroidered with constellations that no longer existed in the sky.

She lowered her hood.

Silver hair. Dark eyes. A presence like a storm on the horizon.

“Your name is Kade Thornwild?” she asked.

“If I say no, will you leave?”

“No.”

“Then fine. Yes.”

“My name is Seris Vaelen,” she said. “Keeper of the Astral Order. I have come for you.”

Kade swallowed. “That is deeply unfortunate, because I am going nowhere.”

Seris exhaled slowly, as if she had expected resistance. “The Sigil chose you. You are bound to the sky’s fate now.”

“No,” Kade said, backing away. “No fate. No saving the world. No quests. Find someone else.”

“I cannot,” she said. “The sky has chosen. And the sky does not choose twice.”

Kade stared at her. Then at the empty, starless night above. Then at the faint mark burning under his sleeve.

And for the first time, he felt the terrifying truth:

This wasn’t going away.

________________________________________

THE ROAD OUT OF BRIARHOLLOW

Seris gave him exactly one hour.

He used forty-five minutes of it to panic.

By the time he returned, his satchel was poorly packed, his heart was pounding, and his mind was ready to bolt.

Seris waited with two horses and the patience of a saint who was rapidly losing sainthood.

“You ride,” she ordered.

“I’ve only ever ridden to the well,” Kade protested.

“Then today you learn to ride farther.”

Before he could argue, she tossed him a cloak. Midnight-black, embroidered with threads that shimmered faintly.

“The cloak will keep you hidden from shadowbeasts,” she said.

Kade tugged it on and glared. “You could’ve mentioned creatures BEFORE the cloak part.”

Seris mounted her horse smoothly. “There are many things I could mention, Kade Thornwild. Most of them would send you running. So I will reveal them when you are ready.”

“Well, that’s comforting.”

“It should not be.”

They rode into the deepwood, the trees growing taller and darker with every step. Strange lights flickered between branches—wisps drifting like lost souls. The forest smelled of moss and mist, thick enough to taste.

Kade tried not to tremble.

He failed.

________________________________________

THE WORLD BEYOND

By dusk, they reached the Shattered Plains—a vast stretch of cracked earth, riddled with glowing fissures like open wounds in the land. The sky above was empty, black, still unnaturally silent.

Kade pulled his horse to a stop. “What happened here?”

Seris’ voice softened. “When the Celestial War ended, the realm fractured. Some scars never healed.”

“What caused the war?”

She hesitated. “A fallen star god. The Starless One. A being born of void, who sought to swallow the sky.”

Kade’s stomach knotted. “And you think he’s coming back?”

She didn’t answer.

Which was answer enough.

They set up camp under a lone twisted tree. The wind carried a low, distant howl. Kade pretended it was the wind.

Seris didn’t.

“That is a Nightborn,” she said.

Kade froze. “A what?”

“A creature of shadow. Drawn to the Sigil.”

“Oh, great. So now monsters hunt me.”

“This is why you must master the mark,” Seris said simply.

Kade scoffed. “I can’t even master tying my boots sometimes.”

“For the sky to choose you, it must believe you capable of more.”

“Well, the sky chose wrong.”

Seris studied him for a long moment. “Reluctance is not weakness. Fear is not failure. But running from what you are meant to face… that would be.”

Kade didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

That night, sleep refused to come. Every rustle sounded like claws. Every breeze like a whisper calling his name.

But when he finally drifted off, he dreamed.

Not of monsters.

Not of fear.

He dreamed of stars—thousands of them—falling from the sky like rain. And in the center stood a figure cloaked in shadows, a hollow crown on his head, his eyes burning like dying suns.

Find me, the figure whispered.

Kade jolted awake.

And the mark on his arm pulsed.

________________________________________

THE FIRST TEST

The next morning, Seris handed him a wooden staff.

“What’s this for?” Kade asked.

“For your training.”

“You mean hitting things?”

“Among other skills.”

“Excellent. I’m terrible at hitting things.”

Seris blinked slowly. “That is also unfortunate.”

She instructed him to channel the mark’s energy—something Kade didn’t even know was possible.

“Feel the sigil,” she said. “It responds to emotion.”

“That’s the problem,” he muttered. “I feel too much.”

“Then use it.”

Kade gripped the staff tightly, breath shaky, focusing on the faint warmth beneath his skin.

Nothing.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

Frustration built—hot, sharp, suffocating.

“I can’t do this!” Kade snapped. “You need a warrior. A mage. A real hero. Not a stable boy.”

Seris stepped closer. “Do you know why heroes succeed?”

He glared. “Because they’re not me?”

“No. Because they try again.”

Kade stared at her.

Then at his trembling hands.

Then at the staff.

He took another breath.

Focused.

Let the fear, frustration, and helplessness swirl together.

The mark flared.

Light shot through the staff—bright, uncontrollable, wild.

A burst of force exploded outward, knocking Kade backward into the grass.

He groaned. “Okay… maybe I can do this. Badly. But still.”

For the first time, Seris smiled.

“Enough for today,” she said.

But Kade felt something he hadn’t felt since the sky went dark.

A spark.

Hope.

________________________________________

THE SHADOW AT THE EDGE OF LIGHT

That night, as they camped near the Crescent River, the mark throbbed again—sharp and insistent.

Kade stood up.

“Seris,” he whispered, “something’s coming.”

A low growl echoed from the trees.

Seris drew her blade. “Stay behind me.”

But the creature that emerged wasn’t like any beast Kade had imagined.

Tall. Skeletal. Cloaked in roiling darkness. Eyes glowing pale blue.

A Nightborn.

It turned its gaze to Kade and hissed—

“Chosen…”

Kade’s blood ran cold.

Seris lunged, slashing through its shadowed form. But the creature reformed instantly.

“It’s after me,” Kade whispered.

“Yes,” Seris said. “So run.”

Kade didn’t argue.

He sprinted down the riverbank, heart pounding, the Nightborn gliding behind him like smoke. The mark burned hotter with every step.

“Use it!” Seris shouted from behind.

“I don’t know how!”

“You do.”

Kade skidded to a stop, turned, and thrust his hand forward.

The mark flared—bright as a newborn star.

The Nightborn shrieked, its form unraveling like ash in sunlight.

Then it vanished.

Kade collapsed to his knees, trembling.

Seris touched his shoulder. “You did well.”

“I almost died.”

“But you didn’t.”

He laughed shakily. “That’s your standard?”

“For now.”

________________________________________

THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING GREATER

As dawn broke, Kade stared at the horizon—at lands he had never dreamed of seeing, and dangers he had never wished to face.

He still wasn’t brave.

Still wasn’t ready.

Still wished fate had chosen someone else.

But the sky had chosen him.

And maybe—just maybe—he could learn to choose himself, too.

“Where to next?” he asked quietly.

Seris mounted her horse. “To the Astral Keep. Where your real training begins.”

Kade exhaled slowly, tightened his grip on the reins, and whispered:

“Then let’s go save the sky.”

For the first time, the mark on his arm didn’t burn.

It shimmered.

________________________________________

THE END (for now...)