Star Love

Chapter (1)

The Origin: Part 1

It was a chamber built deep beneath the earth, yet it possessed a grandeur that defied its location. The ceiling vaulted high overhead, supported by massive pillars carved with intricate bas-reliefs. Blue flames flickered from sconces set along the perimeter, casting the vast space in an ethereal, dancing light.

The cavernous hall stretched lengthwise, culminating at its head with an enormous emblem set in stained glass: a sun and a moon encircling a single star. Below it, etched in the stone, were the words:

Sakura Circle of Magic

This was the sigil of the coven, a clan acknowledged as the most powerful of all witch-kind, their dominion stretching from the dawn of the world to the present day.

Directly before the stained glass stood a massive granite altar. Its base was ringed with the same sigil, carved deep into the stone.

A figure draped in silver robes entered the chamber. He was flanked by two attendants cloaked in black, their hoods drawn low. More black-robed figures followed, filing silently into the hall.

As they entered, they moved as one. With palms outstretched, they began a unified chant, a low, guttural spell that resonated in the air. They advanced slowly, step by measured step, toward the granite altar.

The man in silver robes did not stop. He continued to the head of the room, stopping only when his back was to the stained-glass sigil. He turned, facing the granite slab. This was Marcus, leader of the coven.

The witches were beginning the ritual. This was the night of transference. The night they would claim the Star Power.

All save Marcus moved to encircle the altar. They stood, resuming their chant, their voices rising in volume and unison. As the incantation swelled, the blue flames in the sconces surged, flaring violently with each crescendo.

Behind Marcus, the stained-glass sigil abruptly blazed, silver light radiating from it as the emblem began to spin. At this signal, the chanting ceased. The coven members, who had held their palms open, now crossed their arms over their chests.

The silence was broken by the sound of dragging feet. Two black-robed witches entered the hall, hauling between them a young woman dressed in a flowing silver gown.

She was exquisite, possessing long, silver hair that shimmered like moonlight, her beauty angelic. She fought against their grip, struggling futilely against their superior strength. Tears streamed from wide, luminous eyes, and choked sobs escaped her as they pulled her toward the altar.

This was the human Star. Her name was Ava. And the ritual now underway was for Marcus, the coven leader, to take the Star Power from her.

The transference required a precise, horrific act: the heart of the virgin Star, taken while it was luminous with happiness, had to be cut out alive. By consuming its blood, the power would be claimed.

They dragged the Star to the altar and unceremoniously heaved her onto the cold granite. Leather straps were produced, binding her wrists to the stone, securing her against escape. Lying on the slab, she looked wildly at the figures surrounding her, her voice a trembling plea.

“Please... let me go...”

The witches in the chamber paid her no heed, proceeding with their duties, their indifference absolute.

Marcus, standing before the altar, reached into his robes and withdrew a silver dagger with an ivory hilt. He grasped it with both hands, raising it high. This was the blade meant to cut the living heart from the Star. Around the room, the other witches mirrored his action, raising their hands skyward.

With the dagger held aloft, Marcus began the invocation.

“Ridicaţi Puterea Stelelor!”

His voice echoed, and the coven answered as one, their chant shaking the very foundations of the chamber.

“Ridicaţi Puterea Stelelor!”

With the chant, the blue flames roared, and the silver light from the sigil intensified, becoming a piercing glare. A corresponding light erupted from the Star on the altar. It poured from Ava’s body, flooding the entire chamber in a blinding, celestial radiance.

The incantation was designed to awaken the Star Power, to draw it to the surface. And so, everything connected to the Star ignited: the great sigil on the glass, the human Star on the altar, and even the smaller sigils tattooed onto the forearms of every coven member present. All of them shone, but the light pouring from the human Star was the most powerful, an unbearable, brilliant white.

The power successfully awakened, Marcus moved, dagger still raised. He walked to the head of the altar, and the coven members parted to let him pass. On the slab, Ava was immobilized, paralyzed by the celestial light pouring from her.

Marcus positioned himself over her. He braced the ivory-hilted dagger, aiming for her chest, preparing for the final, forceful plunge.

And in that precise instant, the light emanating from Ava vanished.

Not only the light. Her hair, once shimmering silver, bled into a deep, mortal black. Behind Marcus, the great sigil on the glass winked out, its rotation grinding to a halt.

A collective gasp filled the chamber. Marcus froze, the dagger halting in mid-air, inches from Ava’s chest.

How? The Star’s light could not simply disappear. The power was absolute, immeasurable.

“What happened?” Marcus whispered, panic lacing his voice. He slapped his palm against Ava’s forehead, sensing for the power.

It was there. He could feel it, dormant but present, still inside the girl. Why, then, would it not shine?

Marcus turned to one of the figures behind him. “Jon. Come here. Look.”

The man named Jon stepped forward, approaching the altar. He took Ava’s forearm, his fingers probing. He frowned, his brow furrowed in concentration, and then... his eyes widened in comprehension.

His gaze, now filled with alarm, shot to Marcus. Then, his eyes flicked past the leader to the man standing just behind him—Nicolas. Seeing the look on Jon’s face, Marcus knew. Something was deeply wrong.

“What is it?” Marcus hissed. “Speak! Dawn approaches. If we fail tonight, we must wait another month for the full moon. The light will not hold long, and awakening it a second time... it will be infinitely more difficult.”

Pressed by his master, Jon shot one more apologetic glance toward Nicolas, then delivered the news, his voice heavy with discomfort. “She is no longer a virgin, Master. That is why the power cannot be transferred by this ritual.”

At Jon’s words, Marcus’s gaze snapped to Nicolas, his eyes burning with a cold fury. Nicolas lowered his head. On the altar, Ava let out a choked sob.

The Star Power could only be harvested while active, and it only became active when the vessel was happy. A heart full of sorrow held no power. To ensure Ava’s happiness, Marcus had assigned the task to his most trusted right-hand man, Nicolas.

The plan had been simple: Nicolas would approach Ava as a lover. Her resulting joy, born from that love, would make the Star Power shine, signaling the time for the ritual. But it seemed Nicolas and Ava had... erred.

If the Star was no longer a virgin, the ritual of the blade was useless. The power could no longer be taken. It could only be given—to the one who possessed the Star’s heart. The one she truly loved.

Th-then... Marcus stared at his lieutenant. Did Nicolas receive the power?

He strode to Nicolas, pressing his palm to the man’s forehead, sensing. Nothing. Nicolas held no Star Power.

But then where had it gone? Ava’s hair turning black was proof the power had left her... He returned to the girl, sensing her again. It was still there. Dormant, but there. Why? Why wouldn’t it shine?

As Marcus stood bewildered, Jon stepped forward again. “Master, permit me to examine her one more time. Thoroughly.”

Marcus nodded. Jon moved to Ava’s side and gently untied the leather bonds at her wrists. The moment she was free, Ava scrambled into a sitting position, her eyes locking on Nicolas, trying to move toward him.

Seeing her distress, Nicolas lunged forward, but Marcus’s voice cracked through the air. “Seize him!”

Witches grabbed Nicolas, forcing him to his knees on the cold floor.

Nicolas struggled against his captors, his gaze fixed on Marcus. “Master, please, let Ava go! If the Star Power comes to me, I will transfer it to you willingly! I will die if you command it! Only let her live!”

Marcus ignored him. To take the virginity of the Star, the source of their coven’s power, was an unforgivable transgression. It was this power alone that ensured their supremacy in the underworld.

Jon, meanwhile, returned to his examination. He pressed his fingers to the veins in Ava’s wrist and neck. Then, he placed his palm flat against her chest, and then, lower, against her abdomen.

The instant his hand settled on her stomach, the light erupted again—not from her chest, but from her abdomen. It was blindingly fierce, so piercing that everyone in the room threw up their arms to shield their eyes. After a moment, as slowly as it had come, the light faded back into darkness.

A stunned silence fell over the coven. This was impossible. The Star Power always resided in the heart. Why... why had it manifested from her womb?

Marcus’s eyes widened in sudden, horrifying realization. Unless... Ava was...

He stared at Jon, his mind reeling in disbelief.

Jon nodded grimly, confirming the impossible thought. He spoke, his voice heavy. “Ava is with child, Master. And all the Star Power... it has transferred entirely to the fetus. That is what we are sensing.”

A wave of shocked murmurs swept through the room. From the floor, Nicolas looked up, his face pale. “What...?” he breathed, his eyes fixed on Ava in terror.

Ava herself simply covered her stomach with both hands, her body shaking with quiet, desperate sobs.

This was unprecedented. Nothing like this had ever occurred in the coven’s long history. Ava had given all of her love not to Nicolas, but to the child she carried. And so, all of her power had followed. The child in her womb, it seemed, also possessed the pure heart required to host the celestial energy, allowing the transference to complete.

“Ha... Ha ha ha!”

A deep, booming laugh suddenly erupted from Marcus. The coven stared at their leader. He laughed with pure, unadulterated satisfaction, his eyes fixed on Ava’s stomach.

“This... this is an even greater opportunity,” he declared. “There is no power purer, no power stronger, than that of a human born as a Star. The energy within this child will be the most potent in existence. Therefore, we will wait. We will let the child grow, and when its power manifests, then we will perform the ritual.”

Marcus’s words struck Nicolas and Ava like a physical blow. Ava clutched her stomach in terror. Her child, not yet born, not even confirmed as boy or girl, was already sentenced to have its heart cut out.

Ava would not allow it.

Nicolas, too, knew he could not let his child be harmed. He had a duty as a father to protect it.

Their eyes met across the room—Ava on the altar, Nicolas on the floor. In that instant, they understood each other completely.

They shared a single, desperate purpose: to protect the child in her womb, they had to escape Marcus and the coven. And they would give their lives to do it.

Kneeling on the floor, Nicolas muttered a sharp incantation. The hands of the witches holding him erupted in sudden fire, forcing them to release him with cries of pain. In an instant, Nicolas was free. He lunged for the altar, grabbing Ava and pulling her into his embrace.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered urgently against her hair. “Focus on the child. I’m going to make the light shine. Don’t be afraid. Our child... it will save us.”

Holding Ava tight, Nicolas closed his eyes and began to recite the very same spell Marcus had used—the incantation to awaken the Star Power—praying for the child’s energy to blaze.

Marcus and the others surged forward, attempting to seize the pair. But Nicolas threw out a hand, and a wall of fire erupted around the altar, forcing the coven members to recoil.

After Marcus, Nicolas was the strongest in the coven. None save their leader dared to challenge him directly.

Finally, Marcus himself began to advance, muttering counter-spells as he moved toward the flaming barrier.

On the altar, surrounded by flames, Nicolas held Ava, his focus absolute, his chant unrelenting. Ava, too, prayed desperately for the child’s light to shine.

As Marcus reached the altar, the flames guttered and died under his power.

“Nicolas. Ava,” he boomed. “Surrender now, and I will spare both your lives. You will live in comfort until the Star in Ava’s womb is born. Give up.”

His words were useless. The drive to protect their child was stronger than any offer he could make. Escape was the only thought in their minds. The love of a parent for their child, it seemed, was a formidable power in its own right.

It was enough.

Behind Marcus, the great sigil on the glass flared to life, silver light pouring from it as it began to spin. And from Ava’s womb, the light returned, shining with renewed intensity.

The light was piercing, agonizingly bright. Even Marcus was forced to shield his eyes. In the presence of the pure Star-light, the coven’s magic was nullified; they were powerless.

This was their chance. As the light blazed, Nicolas forced his eyes open against the glare, scooped Ava into his arms, and ran from the chamber.

The coven cried out in alarm as the pair fled.

“Follow them!” Marcus roared, his eyes still streaming from the light. “Catch them! But do not, under any circumstances, harm the child!”

At their master’s command, the entire coven, Jon included, snatched torches from the walls and poured out of the chamber in pursuit.

The great hall, now devoid of the Star, fell into darkness, lit only by the faint, flickering blue of the remaining sconces.