Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

11. Origins

Chapter 11

Origins

T ucked within a verdant swath of forest was a small clearing that stirred memories of home. The lush forest floor was dappled in dew that glittered as it caught the rogue sunlight leaking through the dense canopy above. A spacious pit at the core of the clearing, promising roaring bonfires that blazed well into dawn, was encircled by handcrafted chairs. Although, chairs felt like too pedestrian of a term for them—their very essence transforming the ordinary campsite into a makeshift court. Their wood held an old-world allure. Every grain and knot seemed to narrate a silent story of a time when the trees they were hewn from had stood tall and mighty. I allowed my fingers to dance across one of their arms. Unsurprisingly, the wood was silken from what I gathered were centuries of weather and wear. It reminded me of the perfectly worn-in leather boots from the day before.

“My father commissioned them,” the king said as I admired their beauty—his statement confirming their age.

The king eased himself into one of the chairs and I followed suit. My legs dangled off the edge of its deep-set design, and I tucked them in, allowing myself to nestle into the chair’s comforting support. A small chuckle escaped the king as he took me in.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s been ages since I’ve experienced anything new, Nyleeria. Seeing how you savor every detail and adapt accordingly, your sense of wonder, it’s…refreshing.”

A faint flush warmed my cheeks. Averting my gaze, I peered beyond the campsite. I had to crane my neck to find the tops of the old giants that surrounded us, and even then, their crisscrossed branches obscured that truth. Their circumference, clad in thick bark etched with the texture of time, could only be measured by the outstretched arms of several individuals reaching to touch their fingertips to one another.

I glanced over at the king and found him staring into the woods. Whether he was lost in thought or the moment, I couldn’t tell.

My eyes lingered, drinking in his features—an act I’d unconsciously avoided until then. He wasn’t dwarfed by the chair like I was. On the contrary, his relaxed form made them look less imposing. Golden threads in his dirty-blond hair caught the light easily, their brilliant shine accentuating his loose curls. His hair’s slightly tousled nature was at odds with the striking contours of his face. His high cheekbones and hard jawline were balanced well by the full, slightly pouty curves of his lips. He was clean-shaven, which did little to tame his innate ruggedness. Surely, maintaining that smoothness was a daily affair. He didn’t appear to carry a weapon, but I supposed being a magical savant had its benefits. His clothing was meticulously tailored to his frame—not tight, but it still revealed hints of the muscular form hidden beneath the layers. No doubt, his body was crafted from centuries of training. One thing was certain: he was not an idle ruler.

I couldn’t make out his eyes from here. Tracing through my memory, I realized I hadn’t cataloged that detail. I supposed every time I’d looked him in the eyes, I was more taken by what he was saying than detailing his appearance .

Certainly, a man of his position, with his looks and abilities, had someone to call his own. I hadn’t seen evidence of a family or lover, but I couldn’t imagine he hadn’t found love in half a millennium.

I checked for a ring.

“You’re not married.”

He continued to stare out into the woods. “No.”

“Why?”

His gaze shifted to me, and a faint tug played at the corner of his lips. “You’re very direct, has anyone ever told you that?”

They hadn’t. Was I? I thought it was a simple question, but maybe it was too personal. Then again, it wasn’t like we hadn’t gotten personal already.

“Does it bother you?” I asked.

He thought for a moment. “No. I’m just not used to people being so brazen with me. It catches me off guard is all.”

Right, he was a king. Of course people didn’t ask these types of questions, or maybe others already knew his business. Although, he seemed more of a private person to me.

“I’ve taken lovers over the years, but I’ve never opened myself to love in that way. I couldn’t imagine living in a world where my love, my family, was in constant danger. No, I’m waiting until I know my people are protected, until my being in someone else’s life doesn’t put a target on their back.” Sadness and resentment laced his words. For five hundred years he’d lived with this burden on his shoulders. I could barely imagine living one lifetime without letting love in, let alone multiple lifetimes.

His words triggered a deeper truth I’d missed until now—and a sinking sensation gripped the pit of my stomach. I swallowed. “ I’m the reason my parents are dead,” I said. The truth of the words was crushing. I understood what he meant. Why he hadn’t let anyone in. Eithan flashed through my mind, and I felt immense relief that he had moved far, far away. Fuck, I might not be cursed, but those who were close to me would be fated to a life of running, capture, or death. They would be cursed for knowing me .

That was the code my brain had tried to decipher at the cabin as I’d stared at my parents, the why of it all. The message was clear now— do as we ask, or we will torture and kill everyone you love . I wasn’t sure how, but I now knew that truth in my bones.

My blood ran cold, and a new heaviness settled in where the hollowness had been. This was going to be about survival over all else.

“They’re alive,” I said. “The twins, I mean.”

“What led you to that conclusion?”

“I think whoever slaughtered my parents wants me, or at least this spark you speak of. It’s possible your spell wasn’t the only thing triggered by my birthday. And my parents… That display was brutal…deliberate—a vivid preview of what would befall me and mine should I refuse their demands, whoever they are. Taking the twins as leverage only works if they’re alive; otherwise, I would have found them on that couch that day too.” My stomach roiled from the memory, my imagination adding the image of the twins to that gruesome, sticky mess.

The king offered me a solemn nod.

Given the brutality the fae showed toward the king’s family, I couldn’t imagine it being anyone else who did this to my family. “Tell me about the fae. I want to understand what we’re up against.”

We. A small comfort took root at knowing I wasn’t alone.

“If you’re open to it, I think you’d benefit if I showed you instead,” he said.

“As in spellcraft?”

“Yes.”

“It won’t hurt, will it?” The question made me feel like a child, but I hadn’t the faintest idea how it all worked.

He sent another disarming smile my way. “No, you’ll be perfectly safe.”

My heart pounded as a surge of excitement and unease coursed through me. Feeling jittery, I nodded in agreement.

With a snap of his fingers, the surrounding woodland dissipated, and darkness enveloped us. The faint glow emanating from our bodies was the only source of light.

As the king spoke, his voice sounded like the darkness itself was telling the story and we were magically teleported to the heart of his narrative, experiencing the vivid detail as if we were there.

“Legends dictate that long ago, the gods of old created a planet with their stardust magic—the source of all creation.”

The vision shifted, drawing my eyes upward to beings so vast, they were of incomprehensible magnitude. They were humanoid in nature, yet the nuances of their features and movements were undeniably ethereal. Encircling us from above, each of them stretched out their arms, palms facing down toward us.

Suddenly, our vantage point changed, and we were now observing them from the side at a distance.

Flickers of starlight sprang into existence from the void beneath their fingertips. At first, they were sparse, but as the beings wielded their focus, the clustering embers multiplied to form an orb of blinding light.

It pulsed and I could hear a faint, thrumming cadence coming from it like a heartbeat.

The sphere crystalized, appearing almost overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the energy being offered. In response, more power was thrust upon it by the beings, and its rhythmic pulse surged quickly as if panicked, like it couldn’t bare what it was being forced to endure—I pressed a hand against my chest trying to soothe the feeling.

Within a blink, a blinding light had me turning away before a deafening crack reverberated through my bones. When it felt safe to look again, I had to blink away the lingering brightness to see.

My breath caught.

That orb of shattered light had transformed entirely. Its surface was a glistening deep-cobalt blue, broken only by large masses swathed in verdant hues. A lustrous halo enveloped it like a protective barrier .

Our perspective changed, and I was now on the globe’s surface, looking up at the flickering stars high above. I recognized those patterns. Those were our stars. Our planet. This was Lumnara.

The king spoke again. “The gods created Lumnara to explore mortality, or their version of mortality, forgoing their primordial nature to live an immortal life and explore how stardust magic could evolve under such circumstances. How they could evolve. Why they wanted this? Nobody knows.”

The stars gave way to the sun and the gods of old descended. As they landed upon Lumnara, their forms shifted and much of their ethereal quality faded. Yet, even with only a trace of their transcendence, their power and captivating allure were beyond measure.

“Now ancients, they explored their strange new powers. As time moved on, magical preferences emerged, and factions formed. Lumnara’s cyclical nature provided diversity that the ancients leveraged to form four new courts. Two of them honored our planet’s equinoxes, while the other two paid homage to her solstices.”

The view zoomed out and showed a map of our land and how the courts were divided.

“The two courts rooted in the equinox’s powers were Spring and Autumn, while the Summer and Winter Courts derived their essence from the solstices.” Brief glimpses of each court flashed as he mentioned them, their colors and smells and sounds saturating my senses.

“The first court, known as the Celestial Court, was the original home of the ancients. It stood apart from the rest and was the only one to find balance, staying true to its original source of power, the stars, while honoring the Mother. After what could have been eons, the powers of the seasonal courts were now fully tied to Lumnara—the Mother.”

Flashes of each court revealed the ancients’ transformation as they rooted deeply into their new courts. The changes were…remarkable. They embodied the very nature of the power they were connected to. It was as if the seasons themselves had incarnated .

Those of the Summer Court had luminous hair, and rich, ebony complexions. The Autumn Court’s features were a beautifully blended palette of crimson, amber, and auburn hues. Winter residents were pallid and had blue eyes so piercing, I felt as if they could freeze my soul should I hold their gaze for too long. Spring was powerful, yet delicately featured. Of all the seasonal courts, Spring had held on to their ethereal quality more than any other court. Despite their differences, every court member was stunning, and utterly lethal.

“As the seasonal courts became fully tethered to the Mother’s source, thereby distancing themselves from the stars, new generations lost the ability to wield certain powers. The original stardust magic included the dichotomous powers of light and dark, as well as time and space. Until then, all courts could access these powers and the elemental Mother-given magic of earth, water, fire, and air.”

The powers flittered around me as he spoke. Their presence was like a symphony—stunningly beautiful together, yet vastly distinct apart.

“As the Celestial Court had maintained command over all powers, the seasonal courts believed this was only possible if the first court was somehow siphoning the magic from them. In response to this ideology, the four seasonal courts banded together as one to reclaim what they believed was rightfully theirs. Their prevailing theory: eliminating the Celestial Court would result in the seasonal courts regaining their full breadth of magic.

With cunning planning, they launched a surprise attack. Their combined forces were overwhelming, and the Celestial Court was brought to its knees, and quite literally vanished. It was the first such attack in their histories.”

The horrors unfolded before me. The Celestial Court had no chance. Their ill-preparedness was born from the naivety of those who had not witnessed such violence before. If this was, indeed, the first attack, the first true violence on Lumnara, then it would have been impossible to foresee such a thing .

The onslaught faded, replaced by a map of the courts once more. In the center, all evidence of where the Celestial Court had been was gone. It wasn’t as though the land had been divided among the remaining courts. No, it was as if it had never existed, like the Mother herself had absorbed the land whole, pulling the surrounding courts in to cover its stain.

“After their victory, the seasonal courts expected their full powers to return—but the opposite happened. Not only did their star-given powers remain absent, but, as if the Mother herself were angry, the courts lost their ability to wield all four of her elements.”

The map faded, and the vision showed someone from the Winter Court trying to summon fire, only to realize they couldn’t. In fact, they could only wield water and air; having lost command over earth as well. It appeared the Mother had fully rooted them in their courtly powers, completely cutting them off from any other source but hers. The same scene played out in every court, each experiencing similar fates. Summer lost their access to water. Spring and Autumn, to fire.

The scene shifted and we were now in the human realm.

“Nobody knows where humans come from. Some believe we are fae that lost their ability entirely, like a form of fallen angels. Others believe the Mother birthed us out of a need for balance.”

I preferred the latter. There was something about being a reject fae that didn’t sit right with me. Not to mention how magic worked differently between us. That, combined with the need for balance, seemed to fit the Mother’s modus operandi.

The scene rewound to the horrors of the Celestial Court, then restarted.

“There is an alternate theory as to how the Celestial Court vanished. More myth and legend than anything. It’s told that before the court could truly be decimated and fall, the high lord of the Celestial Court, combined with his most powerful comrades, sacrificed themselves and their court to protect and preserve their sacred power.”

The vision shifted into a cavern where five ancient fae stood in a circle. Starlight that matched that of the gods poured from them into a towering obelisk stone in the center. The obelisk pulled in the light, gathering it into a single sphere that hovered above its apex.

Tears rolled down one of the fae’s cheeks as her body slowly gave way to the light. The single tear that fell to the dirt between her footprints, was now the only evidence of her existence.

Within a blink the other four met the same fate.

The sphere above had too much starlight to hold on to and shattered, spreading light as bright as when Lumnara was born. The force cracked the stone in two and I could feel the same reverberations in my bones.

“This is where the legend of the spark comes from. It’s believed that the spark contains the raw powers of the gods, the stardust magic, and that it would incarnate itself when the time was right. There is only one translated reference that points to the truth of this tale. Some think it merely a poem, others believe it a prophesy—a promise.”

And we shall sleep.

The loss they will mourn.

Greed was the catalyst,

for desperation to be born.

They think we are gone,

but that is not true.

We’ll be reborn.

We’ll wait for you.

Centuries may pass.

Eons, if need be.

Steadfast, we wait ,

for the spark, the key.

I chilled and shivers rippled through every cell in my body as some primal part of me stirred, like the words were an awakening. A calling.

My fingers tingled, and as I touched my pointer finger to my thumb…a tiny spark ignited as if in answer.