Their deep chimes rolled across the crystalline roots that cradled the town, stirring merchants from their sleep and calling students toward another ordinary day.
Ordinary.
Kael wasn’t sure that word still meant anything.
He sat exactly where he had spent the entire night—on the slanted roof of the old library overlooking the eastern district.
His sketchbook rested on his lap, unopened, while the cold morning breeze played with strands of his white hair.
He hadn’t slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the empty space where the star had been.
Not darkness.
Not clouds.
Just…
absence.
As if something had reached into the heavens and erased a piece of reality.
He slowly opened the sketchbook.
The last page greeted him.
Blank.
Exactly as it had been the night before.
Kael frowned.
“…I really imagined it.” He could still remember the wind turning the page by itself.
He could still remember the strange feeling that had gripped his heart.
Yet there was no trace of it now.
No hidden message.
No mysterious writing.
Nothing.
Only paper.
He let out a quiet breath before turning back a few pages.
Every sheet was filled with stars.
Hundreds of them.
Some were rough sketches.
Others were drawn with painstaking precision, each constellation carefully recorded as though he feared they might one day disappear.
It wasn’t a hobby.
Not anymore.
He had been drawing the night sky every morning for as long as he could remember.
He wasn’t sure why he had started.
Only that, somewhere along the way, it had become impossible to stop.
His pencil drifted toward an unfinished constellation.
He hesitated.
“…That’s strange.” The lines wouldn’t come.
He knew something belonged there.
He could feel it.
But no matter how hard he searched his memory…
He couldn’t remember what.
His hand remained suspended above the page.
For the first time in years…
He couldn’t finish a drawing.
A shiver crawled down his spine.
The bells rang again.
Classes.
Kael closed the sketchbook and slipped it into his satchel before climbing down from the library roof.
Morning had fully awakened the town.
Crystal lanterns dimmed as sunlight flooded the streets.
Floating trams glided silently above enchanted rails, carrying workers toward the upper districts.
Vendors called out cheerful greetings while arranging glowing fruits and freshly baked bread across colorful market stalls.
Children laughed as tiny wind spirits chased them between the crystalline roots that formed the city’s streets.
Everything felt alive.
Everything felt…
Normal.
Kael stopped walking.
His eyes instinctively searched the sky.
Blue.
Cloudless.
Beautiful.
And yet…
His chest tightened again.
The feeling disappeared as quickly as it came.
“…What’s wrong with me?” A passing woman smiled politely as she walked past him.
“Morning, Kael.” He returned the greeting automatically.
His body moved through the town almost by instinct.
His mind remained somewhere else entirely.
High above the clouds.
Searching for something he could no longer remember.
Aetherion Academy towered above the eastern district like a palace carved from sunlight.
Its white stone walls gleamed beneath the morning sky, while countless crystal bridges connected the surrounding islands suspended above the sea of clouds.
Students streamed through the gates in groups, their conversations filling the air with excitement.
Some practiced simple spells while walking.
Others carried enchanted devices that floated obediently beside them.
Magic was everywhere.
It wasn’t extraordinary.
It was simply part of life.
Kael barely noticed any of it.
Instead, his feet carried him toward the academy gardens.
Toward the enormous silver oak.
The tree was older than the academy itself.
Its roots stretched deep into the floating island, while its silver leaves shimmered gently whenever the wind passed through them.
It was quiet there.
Peaceful.
His favorite place in the entire city.
With practiced ease, he climbed onto one of the highest branches overlooking the campus.
Only then did he remove the sketchbook once more.
The pencil touched the paper.
Stars.
Lines.
Constellations.
His movements were effortless.
Almost automatic.
Then…
The spiral.
It emerged at the center of the page before he even realized what he was drawing.
Dark.
Endless.
Hungry.
Kael stared at it in silence.
“…Why?” He whispered the question to himself.
He had drawn the same spiral hundreds of times.
Always without thinking.
Always in exactly the same place.
And he had never understood why.
“Because you’re weird.” The familiar voice made him flinch.
Kael looked down.
A girl stood beneath the silver oak, her arms folded and a playful grin spread across her face.
Long silver-blonde hair caught the morning light, almost glowing against the white stone paths of the academy.
Her sapphire-blue eyes sparkled with amusement.
Lyra.
She waved lazily.
“You know,” she called up, “most people use chairs.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of Kael’s lips.
“Most people don’t like the view.” She laughed.
“I’ll give you that.” With surprising agility, she climbed onto one of the lower branches and leaned toward him.
“So…” She nodded toward the sketchbook.
“Let me guess.” “The stars again?” Kael silently turned the notebook around.
Lyra studied the page.
Her smile slowly faded.
“There it is again.” “The spiral.” She looked back at him.
“You’ve been drawing this for years.” He nodded.
“Do you know what it is?” “…No.” “Then why do you keep drawing it?” Kael looked at the page.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Finally…
He answered with complete honesty.
“I don’t choose to.” A breeze rustled the silver leaves above them.
Neither of them spoke.
Somewhere in the distance…
The academy bell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Lyra sighed dramatically.
“There goes our perfect attendance.” She jumped down from the branch.
“Come on.” “If Professor Orion catches us late again…” She smiled mischievously.
“…he’ll probably make us calculate star charts until sunset.” Kael closed the sketchbook.
For reasons he couldn’t explain…
That sentence made his heart skip a beat.
Star charts.
He looked toward the morning sky once more.
Something was wrong.
He was certain of it.
He simply had no way of proving it.
Together, they walked toward the academy’s main building, disappearing into the growing crowd of students.
High above them…
Hidden beyond the brilliant daylight…
The heavens watched in silence.
And somewhere beyond sight…
The universe continued to forget itself.
End of Chapter 1