"Lif! Come home!" his mother's voice rang out from the garden path, warm and familiar.
Lif blinked up at the sky, the bright sunlight reflected on him he stands up, and wiped the dirt off his hands. He'd been out sketching random sword forms in the dirt with a stick, but Lucia's voice always cut through distractions.
He jogged home, brushing past blooming ivor-flowers and the scent of the evening stew. The moment he stepped through the doorway, he was wrapped in a soft hug. His father, Victor, towering and solid, pulled him into a grin-lined embrace.
"had fun?," Victor said, ruffling his hair.
Lif chuckled and sat down at the table. His mother, Lucia, moved gently around the room, placing bowls of steaming food in front of them. Lif tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly as he watched her walk.
"You okay?" he asked, picking up his spoon. "You've been… walking funny."
Lucia laughed, a sweet, tired sound. "he surely has your eyes vic."
Victor leaned back in his chair, arms crossing. "Might as well tell him now."
Lif looked between them, heart skipping.
"Tell me what?"
"You're going to be a big brother," Lucia said softly, brushing a hand against her belly.
Lif's spoon clattered back into the bowl. "Wait—seriously?!"
Victor nodded. "We found out two weeks ago. Didn't want to say anything until we were sure."
Lif practically bounced in his seat, the grin on his face as bright as his eyes. "That's amazing!"
He inhaled his food after that, barely chewing, then bolted out the door shouting, "I gotta Tell my friends!"
The evening air cooled his cheeks as he sprinted down the dirt road. Near the edge of the training fields, he spotted the usual group of village kids hanging around the old well.
"My mom! shes having a baby!" Lif shouted before he'd even arrived.
Most turned with excited grins. A few clapped him on the back, offered congratulations. But as Lif caught his breath, he heard them.
Two boys. Whispering behind the well wall.
"Will he also be a Hollowborn like Lif?"
"I hope not… with parents that strong? That'd be just sad."
The words weren't shouted, but they didn't need to be.
They landed like stones in Lif's chest.
Hollowborn.
A name given to those untouched by the stars. While every child was watched at birth, waiting for a constellation's light to bind them, some were simply... overlooked.
No star. No element. No magic. Almost no mana.
Just ordinary. Worse than ordinary, really. Weak.
Most Hollowborn struggle to lift even the simplest of spells most just become shopkeepers, unless they choose to take their life early, being a hollowborn is a weakness training wont overcome.
Lif didn't respond. He just looked down at the dirt, clenching and unclenching his hands.
"Hey, Lif!" a voice called—Rael, seeing his friend irritated speaks up."You up for a spar?"
Lif looked up, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Sure."
They grabbed sticks, old and smooth from practice. The others formed a circle, cheering already.
Rael raised his free hand. A flicker of heat shimmered in his palm, a small flame dancing above his knuckles.
"Don't worry," he grinned. "I'll go easy on you."
Lif took a breath, grounding his feet. His stick felt light. Too light. But that was fine. Mana was like blood to most kids his age, flowing and burning in their veins. Lif didn't have that. His mana pool was shallow—barely enough to light a candle. He couldn't afford to waste energy.
So he made every step count.
Rael opened with a wide arc of flame. Lif ducked low, rolling under it before pushing off with a burst of speed, circling behind.
Another burst of fire—a wave this time—came from Rael's left palm. Lif hopped back, narrowly dodging it. Sparks singed the edge of his shirt.
He didn't let it slow him.
He dashed in a zigzag, feet light, conserving motion. Rael's hands sparked again, throwing rapid fireballs in quick succession. The crowd "oohed" with each one. Lif weaved, bent, twisted, dodged.
Every dodge was precise. One wasted step and he wouldve been done for.
Lif stepped in at an angle, ducked under a fireball that passed within an inch of his ear, and jabbed with the stick.
Rael blocked. Their sticks clacked. Rael threw a palm toward Lif's chest.
Too close.
Lif dropped flat, sweeping Rael's legs. Rael stumbled but caught himself with a flame-burst to hover. Smart. But not fast enough.
Lif surged up and brought his stick down—right onto Rael's head.
Bonk.
"Gah!" Rael stumbled back, flames flickering out. "Okay—okay! You win!"
Lif dropped his stick, breathing heavy.
The crowd clapped. A few even cheered.
But behind the noise, he still heard the whispers.
Hollowborn.
And yet… Lif stood. Still smiling.
Because strength wasn't just born under stars. It was earned—step by step, scar by scar, breath by breath.
And when the stars looked away…
He learned to move like one.