The night stretched across Etheria like aged ink, thick and suffocating, blanketing the land. The stars, once as brilliant as diamonds, had dwindled to faint, flickering embers, barely clinging to life, as if the darkness itself would soon devour them. Darkstar City, the ancient city once famed for its starlight magic, was now shrouded in this oppressive twilight. Only the scattered glow of magical lanterns cast a dim, dying halo along the winding streets, like the last breath of a dying soul.
Raine Dawnstar stood at the highest point of his family's ancestral mansion, on the rooftop terrace. The cold night wind tugged at the hem of his tattered but still well-tailored noble attire. This estate had once been a symbol of the Dawnstar family's glory, with each brick etched with the proud history of their star-born bloodline. But now, it was nothing but an empty, crumbling husk. The peeling walls resembled the wrinkles on an old man's face; the window frames had rotted away, and the garden had long since fallen into ruin. Only a few stubborn vines, bearing ominous purple-black speckles, clung to the crumbling stone, struggling to survive—silent witnesses to the creeping spread of shadow corruption.
The air was thick with a mix of dust, mildew, and an indescribable, faintly sweet, nauseating stench of decay. Raine inhaled deeply, the scent seeming to burrow into his bones, sending a chill down his spine. His gaze drifted beyond the broken railing, out towards the city. Most of the city was swallowed by darkness, with only the spire of the Saint's Radiance Cathedral in the center, where the "Eternal Light" magical rune—maintained by the Church—still emitted a cold, steady glow, as if mocking this increasingly dim world in silence.
He extended his hand and lightly touched the family crest etched into the railing—its surface nearly worn smooth by time. It was the image of a shooting star, streaking through a long, dark night. The Dawnstar family had once been one of Etheria's most prominent star-blooded noble houses, their veins coursing with the power of the stars. They could read the heavens, even briefly glimpsing the future's trajectory. But how long ago had that glory faded?
Memories surged in, like a tide, bringing with them the taste of blood and the unmistakable coldness of a past that would never fade. That night, the stars had been just as dim, but the mansion was not as silent as it was now. Then, it had been filled with laughter and light, the warmth of the hearth dancing brightly in the fire. His younger sister, Aelaria… his Aelaria, had been pestering him to tell her stories of the stars. Then, the shadows fell. There was no warning, no sign. A group of masked attackers had emerged as if from the void itself—cold blades, silent magic—nearly wiping out the Dawnstar family's bloodline.
He had survived, the sole survivor, but he had watched helplessly as his parents fell in a pool of blood, as Aelaria was taken by a shadowed figure, disappearing into the chaos and flames. The look in her terrified, hopeless eyes had become an eternal nightmare.
"Aelaria..." Raine murmured softly, his fingers whitening with the force of his grip. The wound in his chest, the one caused by his family's massacre and his sister's disappearance, had never truly healed. It had only scarred over with a thin, painful layer, a constant reminder that, with time, the hurt never truly fades. For years, he had lived like a ghost in this empty mansion, selling off every last piece of his family's wealth, just to scrape by and cling to the faint hope that he might someday uncover the truth and find his sister.
He raised his eyes once more to the dim stars. Once guiding lights, once a source of strength, now they seemed shrouded in a veil of ash, their light weak as the flicker of a candle in the wind. Rumors had long since spread through the city. People whispered in fearful tones, calling it "divine retribution," the gods' punishment for mankind's sins. The preachers of the Church tirelessly propagated this notion, blaming the spreading corruption and the dimming stars on the decay of humanity, using it to solidify their power and suppress any dissenting voices.
Corruption... Raine's gaze shifted to the far edge of the city, where a gray-black mist hung over the land. Once, this had been a fertile forest, a vibrant village. Now, it was the corrupted forest—a cursed, forbidden place where twisted creatures lurked, devouring life. They said the sunlight could not penetrate the thick fog, and few who ventured there ever returned. The boundary of the corruption was slowly but surely expanding, like an ever-growing tumor, threatening to consume all of Etheria.
Raine knew this was no mere "divine punishment." His faint star-blood had given him a unique sensitivity to the changes in the stars and the corruptive energies that now tainted the land. He could feel a malevolent presence emanating from the far reaches of the void, cold, hungry, an entity that sought to consume all things. His family had most likely fallen victim to some dark secret tied to this force, and that was why they had been destroyed.
He turned and walked back into the mansion. The room inside was bare, almost painfully so. There was only a simple bed, a heavily worn desk, and in the corner, a pile of ancient star charts and family documents. These were the last remnants of his heritage, the only clues he had left to follow. He lit a magic lantern, its faint glow barely dispelling the darkness in the corners of the room.
Spread out on the desk was a tattered map of animal skin, marked with several red ink dots indicating suspicious locations. The most prominent of these was the legendary Broken King's City—Starfall Castle, said to hover in the sky. Ancient texts recorded that the Dawnstar family's origins were intricately tied to Starfall Castle. Perhaps there, hidden deep within its crumbling walls, lay the answers to the mysteries of the starlight magic, the history of his family, and even the whereabouts of Aelaria. But Starfall Castle had long been lost, surrounded by powerful magical barriers and temporal rifts, preventing anyone from getting close.
Just as Raine felt the crushing weight of despair begin to overtake him, a faint glimmer of hope broke through the fog like the first rays of dawn.
A few days ago, an informant from the shadowy underworld of Darkstar City had brought him news: a secret underground auction would take place that very night. Among the auction items was an extremely rare artifact—what was said to be a fragment of the "Starfall Stone."
The informant described the stone with an expression of greed and awe. "…They say it fell from the sky, a true shard of a star! When you hold it, you can feel the starlight flowing through it. Some even say it can resonate with the lost starlight magic, guiding its wielder to forgotten treasures or… missing people."
Missing people.
Those two words struck Raine like a lightning bolt. He knew this was probably just a ruse, a gimmick to inflate the auction's value. But after countless disappointments and dead ends, any shred of a clue related to starlight magic was enough to rekindle his burning resolve.
He had to obtain that Starfall Stone.
To raise the necessary funds, Raine had sold nearly everything he had left. He removed the family signet ring from his finger, a symbol of the last vestiges of the Dawnstar family's dignity—still beautiful, despite its wear. He sold his father's sword, embedded with faint starlight gemstones. Even his mother's only remaining heirloom, a silk shawl embroidered with the family's star chart, was pawned.
In return, he had a heavy sack of gold coins, though whether it would be enough to win the bidding at the underground auction—a den of thieves, mercenaries, and unscrupulous sorcerers—he had no way of knowing. He knew he was about to step into a dangerous world, where greed and power ruled, but there was no other choice.
This was his last hope, his only lead in finding Aelaria. He had to risk everything.
Raine strapped the bag of coins tightly to his waist, pulling a large cloak over his shoulders to conceal his form. He glanced one final time out at the dim stars, his eyes filled with determination. Then, he extinguished the magical lantern and melted into the deep darkness of the mansion, leaving without a sound, like a ghost slipping away from the ruins of his family's once-proud legacy.
In the lower districts of Duskstar City, in a maze-like alley deep within, the air was thick with the smell of cheap ale, rotting refuse, and the lingering stench of some foul magical elixir. The light here was even dimmer than in the upper city, with only a few unstable, flickering magical lamps casting feeble, wavering glows on the slick cobblestone streets.
A nondescript wooden door, reinforced with heavy black iron, lurked in the shadows. No markings adorned the door, but a faint, ever-shifting magical rune danced across its surface, silently warding off any uninvited gazes. This was the entrance to tonight's underground auction.
Raine lowered the hood of his cloak, concealing most of his face, leaving only his sharp, vigilant eyes exposed. Following the informant's instructions, he knocked three times in a precise rhythm on the door. Moments later, a concealed peephole slid open, and a pair of cold, reptilian yellow eyes studied him for a moment.
"Credentials," a gravelly voice rasped from behind the door.
Raine reached into his cloak and retrieved a black iron token inscribed with intricate symbols. He had paid a hefty price to acquire this rare ticket from his informant. The token was seized by a scaled hand that emerged from behind the door, and after a brief inspection, the heavy bolt was pulled back with a sharp, screeching sound.
Beyond the door lay a narrow, steep passage, its walls lined with crystals that emitted a faint, eerie blue light, barely illuminating the way forward. At the end of the passage was a much larger underground space than one would have imagined from the exterior.
This space, once perhaps a forgotten wine cellar or secret warehouse, had been hastily converted into the auction hall. The air was thick with smoke, mingled with the scents of strange spices, arcane potions, and sweat. In the center of the room, a low auction stage had been set up, surrounded by scattered chairs and benches. Many people had already seated themselves.
Raine scanned the room quickly. The crowd here was far more diverse than he had anticipated. There were wealthy merchants draped in fine silks, their faces hidden beneath hoods; burly mercenary leaders with weapons concealed beneath their cloaks and fierce gazes; arrogant, monocle-wearing scholars who looked every bit the part of a wizard; and a few individuals cloaked entirely in black, exuding an aura that screamed "keep away." One of these dark figures emitted an unsettling ripple of shadow magic, sending a chill down Raine's spine.
Each person here seemed like a rock hidden beneath a veil of mist—impossibly deep, brimming with hidden danger. Raine took a seat in an inconspicuous corner, lowering his presence as much as possible while keeping his ears sharp for the hushed conversations around him.
"...I heard tonight's auction has some solid goods, something from the depths of the Corrupted Forest..."
"...The Corrupted Forest? Don't tell me they've brought back some cursed relic..."
"...I'm more interested in that 'Stardust Shard,' is the rumor true?"
"...Who knows? The Dawnstar family is no more, and starlight magic has long been forgotten..."
The mention of the Dawnstar family made Raine's heart skip a beat. His fingers tightened around the pouch of coins. He forced himself to stay calm—he could not let his identity slip here.
The auction began quickly. A short, plump auctioneer with a greasy smile took the stage, his sharp voice stirring up excitement. One strange item after another was presented: a vial of forbidden potion said to enhance magical ability, a dagger stained with dried blood and etched with ancient runes, a torn map marking the location of a lost ruin… Each bidding war was filled with tense competition and veiled glances.
Raine waited patiently, his heart racing with each passing moment. The amount of gold he had brought seemed meager here. Several items had already sold for more than he expected, and his anxiety began to grow.
Finally, after several heavy-hitting items had been auctioned off, the auctioneer cleared his throat and, with a deliberately mysterious tone, declared: "Next, ladies and gentlemen, we have perhaps the most captivating item of the evening. It comes from... well, let's say, a very special source. Some say it is a shard from a fallen star; others claim it holds the secrets of a lost age of magic; and there are those who believe it can guide the lost to what they most desire..."
As he spoke, a servant carefully stepped onto the stage, carrying a tray covered in black velvet. The auctioneer swiftly revealed the contents—
A jagged stone, roughly the size of a fist, lay still on the tray.
It appeared unremarkable at first, its rough surface a deep, almost black, gray-blue. However, as the light from the stage's magical lamps hit it, the stone seemed to pulse with tiny, shifting lights within—like a miniature starry sky trapped inside. An indescribable, ancient aura radiated from it, silencing the room as it enveloped the space.
Raine's heart clenched. He was almost certain—it was the very object he had been searching for! The faint, starry resonance it gave off made his dormant star-blood stir with an unsettling hum.
"The Stardust Shard!" the auctioneer proclaimed loudly, "Starting bid, five hundred gold! Each increase must be no less than fifty gold!"
Five hundred gold! That starting price nearly wiped out half of what Raine had brought. He took a deep breath, suppressing the wave of excitement and anxiety that threatened to overwhelm him.
"Five fifty!" an elderly man in a finely embroidered mage's robe called out from the front row.
"Six hundred!" came a gravelly voice from a mercenary in the back.
"Seven hundred!" a figure cloaked in black called out from a dark corner.
The price climbed steadily, with each new bid deepening Raine's unease. There were few bidders, but they all seemed determined to secure this shard—and they had the wealth to back it up.
"One thousand gold!" the mage's robe-wearing elder raised the stakes, his tone laced with unshakable authority.
The mercenary hesitated, then shook his head and withdrew.
The black-robed figure remained silent for a moment, seemingly weighing the decision.
The auctioneer's gaze swept the room: "One thousand gold! Any higher bids? This is a true shard of a star, brimming with untold possibilities…"
Raine's palms were slick with sweat. The sum he had brought barely sufficed to bid again. He had to seize the opportunity, and he had to do it now.
Just as the auctioneer was about to bring down the gavel, Raine raised his hand and called out in as steady a voice as he could muster, "One thousand two hundred gold!"
The room's attention immediately shifted to him. One thousand two hundred gold was an exceptionally high price for such a mysterious item. The elder with the mage's robe frowned, casting Raine a disapproving glare. The black-robed figure in the corner subtly turned his head, and from beneath the hood, a piercing gaze seemed to bore into Raine.
The auctioneer blinked in surprise, quickly replacing it with professional enthusiasm: "One thousand two hundred gold! This gentleman in the corner has bid one thousand two hundred! Any higher bids? One thousand two hundred once…"
The mage-wearing elder shook his head, abandoning the bid.
"One thousand two hundred gold twice!" The auctioneer's voice echoed in the tense silence.
Raine's heart leaped to his throat. He could feel several hostile glares lingering on him. The black-robed figure seemed to move slightly, but then, to his relief, did not bid again.
"One thousand two hundred gold three times! Sold!" The auctioneer struck the small wooden hammer with a resounding crack, declaring the Stardust Shard his.
Raine exhaled a long, shuddering breath, his tensed nerves loosening as dizziness washed over him. He had succeeded! He had used up all his remaining funds, but he had secured his only hope.
He stepped forward, under the watchful eyes—some curious, some greedy, some cold—and handed the heavy pouch of coins to the auctioneer. Carefully, he took possession of the shard.
The stone was cold to the touch, but there was a faint, odd warmth emanating from it, as though it held a sleeping heart. The shimmering light within the stone seemed to glow more clearly now, and a faint, starry hum seemed to whisper in his mind.
Just as he prepared to leave, a strange sensation prickled at the back of his neck. Two sets of eyes still fixed on him with an intensity he couldn't shake. One came from the black-robed figure who had given up bidding—a gaze full of scrutiny and frustration. The other, more subtle, came from the deeper shadows of the hall, laden with an indescribable, cold, and focused intent—as if a hunter had marked its prey.
Raine's instincts screamed. He knew he had just gambled everything on this shard, exhausting his resources and placing himself squarely in the crosshairs of danger. The small stone could very well lead him to his sister—but it could also bring him a deadly catastrophe.
He dared not linger. Tucking the shard close to his chest, he wrapped his cloak tighter around him, lowered his head, and quickly slipped out of the crowd, disappearing into the dark alleyway outside the auction hall. He needed to return to safety and study the stone. He had to pray it held the answers he so desperately sought.
What he didn't know was that, from the shadows behind, a lithe figure—silent as night—had begun to follow. Its movements were deliberate, calculated, as if it were part of the dark itself. Those eyes, hidden beneath the hood, glimmered with an eerie, unreadable light—like the cold, distant stars in the night sky. Its target: Raine and the stone clutched tightly in his hands.