The day slowly moved toward evening.
Snow continued falling beyond the walls of Rosenfeld Estate.
Cold winds roamed across the northern plains, carrying with them the distant howls of monsters hidden within the frozen wilderness.
Inside the estate, however—
Warmth and anticipation filled every corridor.
Servants hurried through hallways.
Knights stood guard at important locations.
Temple attendants organized ritual items for the upcoming awakening ceremony.
The atmosphere had become increasingly solemn.
Yet among all those present—
None were more thoughtful than the Twelve Priests and Priestesses themselves.
Because the more they observed Kel Rosenfeld—
The stranger he seemed.
The Priest of the Dawn Sun
Father Aurelius sat beside a tall window.
Golden robes covered his aged frame.
Sunlight motifs decorated his sleeves.
His eyes watched snowflakes descend from the heavens.
Yet his thoughts remained elsewhere.
On Kel.
"The cursed heir..."
For years he had heard stories.
Stories of a child destined to die.
A young noble abandoned by fate.
A boy whose body rejected life itself.
Yet the young man he had met earlier looked nothing like those tales.
"There is no despair in his eyes."
The old priest frowned.
People who suffered for years usually carried scars.
Not physical scars.
Emotional ones.
Fear.
Bitterness.
Resentment.
Anger.
Something.
Yet Kel possessed none.
"Why?"
The priest found himself unable to understand.
The Priestess of the Silver Moon
Lady Selene stood upon a balcony.
Her silver robes fluttered beneath the northern wind.
Moon symbols decorated her attire.
Despite daylight still lingering outside—
Her eyes reflected starlight.
She remembered their brief interaction.
"The stars already know the answer."
Those words repeated within her mind.
Again.
And again.
Most noble children begged for blessings.
Prayed for specific constellations.
Desired power.
Fame.
Recognition.
Kel desired none of those things.
At least outwardly.
"Strange boy."
A faint smile appeared.
"Or perhaps..."
"A very wise one."
The Priest of War
Father Garron sat within a guest chamber.
Unlike other priests—
He looked more like a retired general.
His massive frame filled the chair.
Countless scars covered his hands.
The old warrior stared at a cup of tea.
Thinking.
When he looked at Kel—
He sensed something familiar.
Not strength.
Not power.
Battle.
A feeling usually found only in veterans.
People who had survived countless life-and-death situations.
Yet Kel was only fifteen.
"Impossible."
The priest shook his head.
"A fifteen-year-old should not possess eyes like that."
Because those eyes had seen death.
Too much death.
And somehow—
Accepted it.
The Priestess of Knowledge
High Scholar Mirielle remained inside the estate library.
Naturally.
No one expected her elsewhere.
Several books rested before her.
One of them still lay open.
The estate librarian had informed her earlier.
"Young Master Kel spent several hours reading constellation literature yesterday."
That alone wasn't unusual.
What was unusual—
Were the books he chose.
Ancient texts.
Original records.
Theoretical works.
Comparative studies.
Not beginner material.
Not noble educational material.
Scholarly material.
"Curious..."
She tapped her finger lightly against the table.
"Very curious..."
Because she had asked several questions during lunch.
Questions disguised as casual conversation.
And Kel had answered each one correctly.
Not memorized answers.
Understood answers.
That difference mattered.
A lot.
The Priest of Judgment
Father Valerian sat perfectly still.
Like a statue.
Like a mountain.
His temple specialized in truth.
Justice.
Law.
Throughout his life—
He had learned how to read people.
And Kel confused him.
"His words are honest."
That much he was certain of.
"Yet he constantly hides things."
A contradiction.
The young heir rarely lied.
In fact—
He almost never lied.
Yet somehow—
He concealed enormous truths.
The priest disliked mysteries.
And Kel was a walking mystery.
The Priestess of Fate
Lady Astra sat alone.
Eyes closed.
Hands folded.
Unlike the others—
She specialized in intuition.
Premonitions.
Fate.
And because of that—
Her situation was the strangest.
Whenever she tried observing Kel—
Her instincts became unclear.
Not blocked.
Not hidden.
Unclear.
Like staring into fog.
"Odd."
For the first time in years—
She felt uncertainty.
And she disliked uncertainty.
The Priest of the Endless Sea
Father Orion stood near an aquarium built into one guest hall.
His temple taught adaptability.
Exploration.
Discovery.
Kel reminded him of explorers.
People who traveled beyond maps.
People who sought answers.
People who refused limitations.
"He is curious."
The priest smiled.
"Very curious."
And curiosity often created legends.
Or disasters.
Sometimes both.
The Priestess of the Star Weaver
Lady Lyra remained unusually quiet.
Far quieter than normal.
Because she had noticed something.
During introductions.
Only for a brief moment.
Less than a second.
Yet she was certain.
When she looked directly into Kel's eyes—
She felt observed.
Not by Kel.
By something else.
Something ancient.
Something watching through him.
The memory still caused unease.
"Impossible."
She repeated that conclusion several times.
Yet uncertainty remained.
The Remaining Four
The remaining priests and priestesses shared similar conclusions.
Different observations.
Different concerns.
Different interests.
Yet all arrived at the same answer.
Kel Rosenfeld was unusual.
Far more unusual than rumors suggested.
The cursed heir.
The dying child.
The forgotten son.
Those stories no longer matched reality.
Something had changed.
Something significant.
Something none of them could fully understand.
The Conversation of the Twelve
As evening approached—
The priests and priestesses eventually gathered within a private meeting chamber.
A fire burned within the fireplace.
Snow struck the windows softly.
Tea was served.
Discussions began.
Naturally—
The topic became Kel.
Father Garron spoke first.
"The boy has seen battle."
Several looked toward him.
The old warrior continued.
"I would stake my life on it."
Father Valerian nodded slowly.
"He has also experienced hardship."
Lady Selene added.
"Yet carries no resentment."
High Scholar Mirielle adjusted her glasses.
"He possesses knowledge beyond what someone his age should."
Lady Astra remained quiet before finally speaking.
"I cannot read his future clearly."
The room became silent.
That statement carried weight.
A lot of weight.
Because Lady Astra rarely admitted uncertainty.
Father Aurelius slowly exhaled.
Then asked the question lingering within everyone's minds.
"What constellation do you think will answer him?"
Silence followed.
No one answered immediately.
Because honestly—
No one knew.
Some suspected Leadership constellations.
Others suspected Wisdom.
A few believed War.
One considered Fate.
Another considered Mystery.
Every possibility seemed plausible.
Which itself was unusual.
Most awakenings could be predicted.
Kel's could not.
Eventually—
Lady Selene smiled softly.
"I suppose we will discover the answer tonight."
The others nodded.
Beyond the windows—
The sun finally disappeared beneath the horizon.
Darkness began spreading across the North.
Stars slowly emerged.
One after another.
And somewhere deep within Kel's room—
The future heir of House Rosenfeld remained completely unaware that twelve of the continent's most respected spiritual figures had spent the entire day trying—and failing—to understand him.
Inside Kel's soul—
Sairen laughed.
"They're overthinking you."
Kel calmly looked toward the darkening sky outside his window.
"Perhaps."
The Guardian's laughter grew louder.
"No."
"Definitely."
And above them—
Beyond clouds.
Beyond mortal sight.
Beyond understanding.
The Eighty-Eight Constellations continued waiting.
For the night that had finally arrived.