The starry sky above, with its myriad constellations, holds mysteries beyond measure. The positions of those stars shift in strange ways over time, and these changes have long been seen as divine omens, hints bestowed upon humanity by the gods. People often think of astrologers as those tasked with unraveling these celestial riddles left by the divine.
But they are all mistaken!
Within the stars lies a power vast and boundless—greater than the mightiest storms, the most ferocious floods, or the fiercest infernos. A power so immense it stirs doubt in my heart.
Could such formidable forces truly have been crafted by the gods?
Moreover, these stars seem to have hung in the heavens since time immemorial—long before the earliest records, perhaps even before the creation of our world itself!
So, were these stars truly forged by divine hands? Every text and sacred scripture I've uncovered shares a common claim: "The stars were placed in the sky by the gods to adorn the beauty of the night, their positions altered according to divine will or the tides of worldly events, serving as revelations for mankind."
Indeed, this suggests the stars were created alongside our world, mere ornaments for the nocturnal sky… but is that truly so?
Six years ago, when I was thirty-four, the heavens underwent a strange upheaval. Stars fell from the night sky, streaking across the firmament. While every astrologer scrambled to interpret this as some divine message, I chose a different path.
Guided by the direction of the fallen star I observed that night, and after poring over every scrap of knowledge I could find, I resolved to seek it out. For three long years, I traversed the northern reaches of the continent until, at last, I found it!
As she spoke, Semel's shimmering illusion raised a delicate hand, emerging from her flowing crimson robe. Her palm opened upward, cradling a fist-sized chunk of dark, scorched stone.
"This," she declared, "is the 'fallen star' I uncovered. Look at it—nothing but a rock at first glance! This is merely a fragment I chipped away. When I found it, the thing was as large as a house. Its impact had carved a vast crater into the earth, surrounded by traces of a terrifying blaze—forests reduced to ash, plains reshaped into valleys! Such destructive power could rival the mightiest forbidden spells of magic."
Du Wei couldn't help but exhale in awe.
This woman, Semel, a master astrologer, was truly remarkable in his eyes. In a land where faith in divine creation reigned supreme, she dared to question—and her inquiries had brought her tantalizingly close to the truth.
"What's astonishing," Semel continued, "is that this so-called star is nothing but an enormous stone. More crucially, its substance is utterly alien to anything known in this world! It's impossibly hard, imbued with a strange affinity for magical energy. I sought out countless seasoned alchemists and even grizzled blacksmiths, yet none could identify this new 'material.' In other words… the stars do not belong to our world!"
Her illusory form began to flicker, a sign her magical energy was waning. Du Wei steeled himself, silently praying the spell would hold just a little longer.
"From that moment, I began to doubt every text claiming the gods created this world. If the gods gave life to all things, crafted day and night, and set the seasons in motion… then who, I ask, established the laws governing it all? The gods?
"I devoted my life to studying the stars, only to find the notion that their shifting positions are divine revelations utterly absurd. For ten years, I meticulously charted the paths of every visible star. Night after night, I recorded their places in the sky.
"On clouded nights, when the heavens were veiled and my eyes could not pierce the darkness, I turned to other means. I thought of magic. If magic could sense the subtle shifts of nature, could it not also trace the stars when sight failed me?
"And so, I discovered the power of the stars! By wielding it, I could draw upon their strength, much as a mage channels the forces of nature.
"Then came an even greater revelation: the power of the stars isn't confined to the night!
"Even under the blazing sun of midday, through meditation and the honing of my spiritual senses, I could feel their presence. They are there, ever-present in the sky, day or night! It's only that daylight drowns their radiance beneath the sun's glare.
"Over those ten years, I tracked the stars' movements and found they follow a precise cycle—a pattern of eternal recurrence. A star might linger in the east during summer, drift to the west by winter, and return to the east the following year. All of it unfolds along a fixed trajectory, a ceaseless loop!
"This is no divine riddle, no godly hint! It is the law of the stars—their immutable order!"
Semel's form grew faint, her strength nearly spent. Her voice, though, carried a solemn weight. "The Temple claims the stars are godly enigmas, yet I found their movements obey a rigid cycle, devoid of divine whimsy. The Temple says the stars are mere nighttime ornaments, yet I learned they exist even in daylight, invisible to the eye. The Temple insists the gods crafted this world, but I discovered the stars are made of a stone unknown to our realm."
Lifting her gaze, the great astrologer delivered her final verdict: "I began to question whether the stars were truly divine creations… and in the end, I began to doubt the gods themselves."
Du Wei stared at the fading figure before him, a surge of reverence rising within. In all his time in this world, Semel was the first he'd met who dared challenge convention and authority. While others clung blindly to the creed of divine creation, this woman had spent her life questioning, searching, and uncovering truths. To him, she was worthy of boundless respect.
"My life's work is stored in this chamber," Semel's voice continued, softer now. "The cabinets here hold all I've left for you. Beyond this room lies another door—a decoy I crafted. Those who fail to grasp my clues about the stars will find only that false door, leading to mere worldly riches. But this—this is my true legacy, the heritage of Semel Kira Rowling!"
With a sudden flash, the pillar of light dimmed, and her form grew hazy. Her voice weakened to a whisper:
"One final hint: the painting in the study harbors a magical creature I created, sealed within its canvas. It will guide you through all you must learn here. Everything in this room requires its aid. For safety, I entrusted all my star magic spells not to paper, but to that creature. You must release it from its seal.
"My child, though I know not how many years will pass before you find this place, I believe the great Rowling House will birth a magical prodigy. Understand this: my discoveries challenge the gods' authority, a truth this world—especially those who wield power—will not tolerate. I could not leave this legacy openly, only in secret.
"That creature bears a spell of my making. It awakens only at night, slumbering by day, much like the stars, unseen in sunlight. Only one with great spiritual strength can perceive it in the darkness. If you've reached this place, your spirit is surely strong enough to become a remarkable mage. I can pass all my star magic to you… Remember this incantation—it will unbind the seal on the painting. Once freed, the creature will obey you without fail. The rest depends on your resolve."
Slowly, Semel recited the incantation, each syllable clear, her fingers tracing precise gestures. Du Wei committed it all to memory. Then, with a fleeting flare of light, she vanished.
Darkness swallowed the room. Du Wei lit a candle and inspected the chamber briefly, finding nothing more to do. Carefully, he retraced his steps through the hidden passage, crawling back to the study.
By the time he emerged, he was covered in dust. Fortunately, the study's stacks of moldy ledgers offered a plausible excuse for his disheveled state.
Closing the secret door behind the bookshelf, Du Wei approached the painting. "I've been inside," he said. "I saw everything, including her message."
The eyes in the painting seemed to soften, a faint plea glimmering within.
Du Wei smiled. "You're wondering about the spell to free you? Yes, she left an incantation. But there's a slight problem…"
He gave a wry chuckle.
Semel's first clue had been the painting itself, visible only to those with potent spiritual strength—almost certainly mages or those capable of learning magic. Her star magic demanded a mage to inherit it. Thus, she'd devised this intricate trap.
If one couldn't see the figure in the painting move, their spirit was too weak, unfit for magic. But those who could were meant to wield her incantation to break the seal.
Yet, even the brilliant Semel could not have foreseen that, years later, the Rowling House would produce an anomaly like Du Wei.
His spiritual strength was extraordinary, a gift beyond compare. Yet in magical sensitivity, he was utterly barren—devoid of even the slightest spark.
In other words, Du Wei couldn't wield the incantation Semel had left to unseal the painting.
Without the magical creature bound within, he couldn't learn her star magic, for it alone held the spells.
What a peculiar deadlock, he thought with a bitter smile.
To stand before a vast treasure, its gates flung wide, yet be unable to step inside—what a maddening sensation.
Then, a spark lit in his eyes. Wait… didn't I capture a mage?
That fellow, capable of wielding the simplest first-tier spells with the rare gift of instant casting—perhaps he could break the impasse…