"Even the stars weep for those who have to start again."
The first thing I felt was cold.
Not the kind of chill that makes you shiver on a winter morning, this was different.
It was deep, quiet, and endless, as if I was floating inside the night sky itself.
For a long moment, I didn't know if I was alive or dead. Then a faint rhythm reached me, soft but steady.
A heartbeat. My heartbeat.
When my eyes opened, a sky of unfamiliar stars stared back at me.
Each shimmered in patterns I had never seen before, foreign constellations burning with pale silver light.
I tried to move, but my limbs felt heavy, bound by something invisible. My breath trembled in my throat.
"...Where am I?"
The voice that came out wasn't mine.
It was younger, smoother, fragile.
And that was when the memories began to flood in.
Flashes of another life: books, sleepless nights, a hospital room, the faint sound of machines.
Then nothing.
The world blurred between what I remembered and what I was seeing now, a grand ceiling carved with celestial runes, golden drapes swaying in the wind. My chest rose and fell quickly.
This wasn't my world.
I sat up, dizzy, as the door creaked open. A woman in a maid's uniform rushed in, her face pale.
"Young Master! You're awake, praise the stars! We feared you wouldn't survive."
Her words twisted in my ears. Young Master?
I looked down and saw my hands, thin, delicate, and far too soft to be mine.
"I… survived?" I murmured.
The woman nodded, tears forming in her eyes. "The fever broke at dawn. You've been unconscious for three days, my lord."
Three days. Fever. Lord.
It didn't make sense.
Before I could ask more, she bowed and hurried out of the room, probably to fetch someone. I used the silence to examine myself. My reflection shimmered faintly in a mirror beside the bed, dark hair, pale skin, eyes the color of dusk.
Not me. But familiar, somehow.
And then, like a whisper from the stars, a name echoed in my head.
Erian Thalos.
It came with flashes of memories that weren't mine, faces of nobles, cold halls, a father's voice dripping with disappointment.
A young man born weak in magic, mocked by everyone, shunned even by his own blood.
So this is who I am now.
The door opened again, revealing a tall man dressed in dark velvet robes, his gaze sharp as frost.
"Erian."
The way he said the name, heavy, clipped, told me everything I needed to know.
"Father," I replied automatically, though the word felt foreign on my tongue.
The Duke of Thalos studied me in silence. His presence filled the room like a storm. "I heard you regained consciousness."
"Yes, sir."
"Good. You may have survived your own weakness once more." His voice was calm, but each word was meant to wound. "Do not waste my time again with your fragile constitution."
The man turned, his cloak sweeping the floor. "The physician will assess whether you're strong enough to travel. You're due at the Academy within the week."
Academy. The word rang with meaning in Erian's memories, a place where magic determined worth.
And this body had none.
"I understand," I said quietly.
The Duke gave me one last unreadable glance before leaving, the door closing behind him with a sound that felt final.
Silence returned. But the stars beyond the window seemed to stir, their faint glow pulsing as if they could hear my thoughts.
So this was my second chance, a new life, a new world, and a body that everyone already despised.
I looked at my reflection once more.
Erian Thalos, son of Duke Thalos, the failure of the noble house.
A boy with no magic in a world that worshiped it.
Somehow, it felt fitting. In my past life, I had always been ordinary, invisible.
Maybe fate had a cruel sense of humor.
But then I saw it, something faint glowing beneath the collar of my nightshirt.
A mark, small and silvery, like a cluster of stars etched into my skin.
It pulsed once, and in that moment, I heard a voice.
Soft, distant, but undeniable.
"Find me… beneath the starlight."
My breath caught. "Who's there?"
The room remained silent. Only the sound of wind brushing against the window.
But I could still feel it, the warmth lingering where the mark glowed.
I didn't sleep that night.
Instead, I sat by the window, watching constellations crawl across the unfamiliar sky. Each star shimmered faintly, and for reasons I couldn't explain, they felt alive, as if they were watching me back.
When dawn came, the maid returned with a tray of food and a nervous smile.
"Young Master, the Duke has arranged your travel to the Capital in three days."
"The Capital…" I repeated.
The heart of the empire. The beginning of my new life.
As she set the tray down, I caught sight of a book on the desk, its leather cover embossed with silver runes.
"The Celestial Theory of Magic."
Erian's memory whispered faintly as I touched it:
A failed mage's dream, to prove that stars carry magic that souls can awaken.
My fingers brushed the pages.
Perhaps that dream didn't die with the old Erian.
Maybe it was something I was meant to finish.
When night fell again, I stood on the balcony.
The manor was quiet, the air heavy with unspoken things. I gazed up, and the stars shimmered in return.
Their light fell softly on my skin, illuminating the faint mark once again.
Somewhere deep inside, I felt a pull, gentle but certain.
As if something, or someone, was waiting at the end of that light.
And though I didn't understand it yet, a part of me whispered the name that had echoed in my dreams since I woke.
Aster.
Morning came dressed in gold.
The air inside the Thalos estate carried the scent of polished marble and wilted roses. Everything was perfect, lifeless, and cold.
I walked through the hallway, my reflection following me along the glass panels on the walls. The young man staring back looked noble enough, but there was something hollow behind his eyes.
The servants bowed when I passed, though none of them looked at me directly.
That much hadn't changed, it seemed.
In the fragments of Erian's memory, I saw flashes of their whispers.
"The Duke's son with no magic."
"A pity… such beauty wasted on emptiness."
I smiled faintly.
If they thought I was fragile, then perhaps I could use that. There's power in being underestimated.
At breakfast, the Duke was already seated. His posture perfect, his expression unreadable. Across from him sat a girl with pale hair and eyes like polished glass, Selene Thalos, his daughter.
She smiled as I entered, her lips curling into something that could almost pass as warmth.
"Brother," she greeted, her tone dipped in sugar. "It's good to see you awake. I prayed for you every night."
I returned her smile just as politely. "Then your prayers worked."
Our father's gaze shifted between us. "Sit."
His voice carried authority that left no room for hesitation.
The breakfast passed in silence, except for the faint clatter of silverware. When it ended, the Duke spoke without looking up.
"You will leave for the Capital tomorrow. I expect you to maintain the family's dignity, even if you possess none of its talents."
Selene chuckled softly. "Father, surely the Academy will find some use for him. Perhaps as a library assistant?"
"Enough," the Duke said, though his tone was indifferent. "Erian will attend as my son, not as your amusement."
Her eyes glimmered with something sharp before she turned away.
When the meal was done, I stood and bowed. "I will not bring shame to our name."
The Duke didn't respond.
But as I turned to leave, I caught his faintest sigh, a sound that wasn't disappointment, but exhaustion.
It made me wonder if the man had ever known warmth at all.
Later that day, I found myself in the old library, Erian's favorite place, according to his fragmented memories. The scent of old parchment filled the air.
Books lined the walls like sleeping giants.
My fingers traced the spine of one marked with faded ink: "The Order of Solarius."
It was a record of an ancient sect that once worshiped the stars as living beings. They believed each person carried a fragment of starlight within them, a bond to someone they were destined to find.
Find me beneath the starlight.
The words from the night before echoed again.
I closed the book slowly, my heart uneasy.
Night fell sooner than I expected. The manor quieted, the servants retreating to their quarters. I stood once more at the balcony, the same place I had stared at the stars before.
The wind was softer tonight. Warmer.
I could almost feel it brushing against my skin like a hand, gentle, searching.
"What am I supposed to do with this second life?" I whispered.
The stars didn't answer. But they shimmered brighter, as if listening.
And then, faintly, I saw it again, the mark on my chest glowing like silver fireflies.
This time, it pulsed in rhythm with something beyond my own heartbeat.
Someone else's.
The next morning came with urgency.
Two carriages stood ready outside the gate, the Duke's crest gleaming on their doors. Servants hurried about, loading trunks and scrolls.
I wore the academy's uniform for the first time, navy and white, lined with faint runes of protection. It felt foreign on my shoulders.
"Everything is prepared, Young Master," the maid said softly.
I nodded, taking one last look at the estate.
It was grand, but it had never felt like home.
Maybe it never would.
The Duke appeared just as I stepped into the carriage. "Remember, the Academy is not a place for sentiment. It is where the strong rise, and the weak are forgotten."
His words lingered long after the wheels began to turn.
Through the window, I watched the estate shrink into the distance, swallowed by forests that glittered with morning dew.
The horizon stretched endlessly ahead.
For the first time since waking in this world, I felt something stirring inside me.
Not fear. Not confusion. But… hope.
If fate had brought me back beneath these stars, perhaps it wasn't just to survive.
Perhaps it was to find the reason they kept calling to me.
And maybe, to find the one whose name echoed in my soul.
Aster.
That night, as the carriage rolled along the cobblestone road toward the capital, I couldn't sleep.
The world outside was painted in shades of indigo and silver. The constellations above shifted slowly, forming shapes that almost looked like wings.
And for a heartbeat, I could have sworn someone else was watching the same sky,
from somewhere far away, under the same light.