*****{ A FICTIONAL STORY }
Ch 1 - HALF OF HIM
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Thunder did not echo that day.
Instead, the skies shimmered, bathed in gold. The heavens themselves seemed to hold their breath as the Star Kingdom welcomed its most sacred moment—the birth of the next Star God.
Celestial bells rang. Constellations flickered brighter. Star Deities wept with joy as a baby boy, wrapped in threads of twilight and stardust, opened his eyes for the first time. His gaze sparkled—deep, ancient, like galaxies never charted. He was perfect.
Or so they thought.
Until the midwife, trembling, whispered,
> "The mark… where is his mark?"
Every deity bore the symbol of their origin. And the God of Stars—he was destined to wear the five-pointed star upon his brow, a divine sigil that confirmed his right, his power, his eternity.
But the infant had none.
Instead—two faint birthmarks, separated and scattered, glowed on opposite sides of his forehead. Only two points of a star. Incomplete. Broken.
The once-roaring palace grew still. The current Star God, the boy's father, rushed forward, eyes burning with worry. He cradled the child gently.
> "Why does the cosmos mock my blood?" he muttered, clutching his son closer.
An elder approached, robes heavy with time. "The divine mantle…" he said slowly, "it's unstable."
The child cooed softly in his arms, stardust falling from his tiny fingers, unaware of the silence he'd birthed.
> "A God… not born whole," someone whispered.
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The night after the child's birth, while the kingdom feigned celebration, the Grand Star Elder sat in solitude beneath the Sky Tree—a sacred place where stars whispered secrets to those who dared to listen.
His long silver hair fluttered in the celestial breeze, eyes closed, listening—not to the heavens, but to the silence between them.
> "Two sides of a star… he was born, yet he is not complete," he murmured.
The cosmos had never made mistakes before. So why now?
A flicker—a pulse—rippled through the roots of the tree.
The Elder's eyes opened wide.
> "A cure…"
Yes. The child will not survive long. His divine mantle is perishing. But he can be saved.
Not by power. Not by time. But by life.
> "Then let us create a being… born not of godhood, but of the purest elements—of water, wind, fire, earth, and bloom," the Elder whispered, trembling.
> "A life formed by Nature itself… A child of the flower clan."
Not a god. Not a weapon.
But a being crafted to love—so purely, so unconditionally, that they would one day willingly choose death for the Star God.
A soul so radiant, it could complete the broken star.
He looked to the heavens, tears slipping down his ancient cheeks.
> "Forgive me… for creating life only to ask it to die."
The Elders of the Heavens gathered near the Fountain of Origin, a place only summoned in times of cosmic distress. The air pulsed with divine energy as each Elder extended their palms, calling forth the Five Sacred Elements—Earth, Water, Fire, Wind, and Flora.
One by one, the elements swirled, not in chaos, but in harmony—dancing around the fountain like a sacred ritual passed down since time began.
The waters glowed blue. The winds whispered in song. Fire licked the air in golden ribbons. Earth trembled beneath their feet. And then—
Bloom.
A sudden burst of fragrance.
Thousands of flowers awakened at once, their petals unfurling as if in prayer. Birds, summoned by the purity of the moment, chirped in a joyous symphony.
And then…
There, lying softly atop the mossy boulders near the water's edge, was a newborn.
His skin glistened like morning dew. His small hands curled into tiny fists. He sobbed—not in pain, but as if announcing his arrival to the cosmos.
And on his delicate forehead shimmered a mark—a half-formed star, its three sides gracefully joined, pulsing with a quiet glow.
He was beautiful.
Too beautiful for anyone to suspect that his existence… was born for sacrifice.
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