Diane has always loved the stars.
Every night when the village of Alde North fell asleep, she would sneak out to the rooftop of her father's shop, wrap her herself with a thick cozy blanket with her back laid to the ground, she would tilt her head and gaze unto the sky. The stars never changed, they blink gently, glowed. Their soft twinkle pierced the darkness, highlighting the contrast between light and darkness.
But that night the stars were inaccurate. They shimmered capriciously, like they were trying to describe a warning in a language no one understood. After some few moments of observation from Diane, she now gazed at them more fearfully and began to wonder, why?, the stars which looked so charming now looks like its being forced to shimmer. And then one of the stars fell.
It wasn't a like that of a meteors, which create a bright streak of light in the sky. No, this one burned like a wild flame of golden fire, falling intensely, cutting through the heavens, before crashing deep into the forest beyond the large river. This shook the entire village from the impact.
Then came the silence. Heavy. Unnatural.
Diane's breath froze. She didn't even think twice she ran through the windy paths, past the sleeping cows, under the crooked branches. Diane chased for the faint silver glow that pulsed ahead like a heartbeat.
She got to it and found out it was in an hollow-a crater still steaming, the trees bent low as if bowing. In the center was a stone, smooth, glasslike, and glowing faintly. She stepped closer, wanting to reach out.
A spark sprung from the stone to her skin.
She cried out, stumbling back, holding on to her wrist. A mark now bloomed there-a small star, which glowed faintly like the ones above. But something inside her whispered: you are chosen.
She fainted.