- [ Magic ] -
What exactly do people associate with that name?
Is it the Guardian Fairies, cloaked in their celestial radiance, upholding order with hands bathed in light?
The Great Paladins, whose mastery over alchemy and steel forges destiny itself?
Or perhaps, it is the Ancestral Witches, who weave chaos into the fabric of existence, birthing both ruin and revival?
- ✧ ❖ ✧ -
For many, it is the Great Dragon―through its breath of fire birthed a thousand worlds, its embers scattering across the vast expanse of magic and time.
But for some, like myself, at the beginning there was only a single starseed.
Alone in the boundless abyss, cradled in the silent embrace of the Primordial Caudron, the starseed grew mournful as it knew it was alone within a deep ocean of endless night.
After an eternity, nearly drowning in its yearning, the seed planted a wish into the cosmic sea. A quiet, desperate wish.
And then―light bloomed.
A great tree rose from the emptiness, its roots entwining the heavens, its limbs stretching across vast realms brimming with light and life.
But for every new light that flourished, the Abyss awakened in turn.
Reaching out with unseen hands, seeking to unmake, to devour, to return all to nothingness.
It is said according to this legend, magic itself was born from this sorrow. Echoes of heavens' wounds, of the rift between creation and oblivion.
- ✧ ❖ ✧ -
Much like that star, I made a wish many years ago.
To that very same star high up in the sky.
At that place where wishes sprout, heaven and earth entwine, and time bends while fate unravels.
So that I, standing on the ground, would be able to reach that beautiful star someday.
I wished, without knowing what it meant.
Recklessly, when my heart ached to grasp that distant, untouchable light.
I could finally hear that long-cherished wish of another life―whispered throughout time yet never truly ending.
For then, a new story could finally begin.