That morning Aster woke up feeling something was not quite right.

As he lay on the bed with his eyes still closed, he felt as if his whole body was dropped into a bath of full of cold ice. The hairs on his skin rose in an eerily sensation and his heart palpitated almost as if he was on the run from a terrible beast. Yet just as it appeared, the feeling quickly faded. Still groggy and confused, it didn't take long for him to realize that this was definitely not the first time he had felt that way ever since he had awakened his astral gift all those years ago. It most definitely was the first his rest was cut short because of it.

Groaning, he fitfully tried to go to back to sleep. The night before his father had once again managed to corner him for some 'dutiful' training and it had taken all of his mental efforts to push through it. As the only descendant of the small linage of a family full of astrologers, it was his 'duty' to make sure his family's paltry legacy lived on through him, words his father had repeatedly hammered into his skull ever since he can remember. A duty that somehow involved him casting the same cantrips over and over again until his throat turned horse and his mana reservoirs run dry, riddling him with a blinding headache and an urge to vomit. He recalled fondly the times he used to be excited practicing his magic. But now all that excitement was drained away by the torturous rote his father made him go through again and again and again.

Sighing, he tried to make himself comfortable on the bed but the beautiful oblivious sleep was now definitely out of his reach. Opening his eyes in defeat, he let out a breath as he took a cursory glance around him. His room, which was admittedly quite spacious, was filled with dim light from the large circular purple crested windows on the two walls. A wide table strewn with scrolls and papers of unfinished charts was strategically placed underneath one of the windows, directly opposite from his bed while the other one on his right had a ledge beneath it, large enough for him to rest on during the rainy weathers or just when he was feeling particularly lazy.

Yawning his way out of bed, he slowly walked towards the lounging window (as he called it) and opened it wide revealing the father sun setting just beyond the horizon. His light basked the sky and the little Spire town he called home in a fading haze of red. Various structures rose in all sides and beyond spanned the endless hills of the Bronze Mountain Range covered in sprawling green fields and misty clouds.

The Noble Family of Arius was a long line of locally famed astrologers who had built their home near one of the hills belonging to the Bronze Mountain Range. Long lost legends whisper of the mountains shaped by the hands of the Forefather himself, which when Aster was a child used to fascinate him to no end but as he slowly got older he doubted such tales were truly true. He really couldn't bring himself to believe that a single mage could wield such strength that he could shape the entire lands at the wave of his hands.

With the sun setting in the horizon, only a few hours were left for twilight to arrive. In a manor full of mages obsessed with the cosmos, their routine varied widely something Aster hadn't realized until he mingled with the normal folk. Due to the nature of their magic where most were touched by the stars and the celestial objects above, each Astrologer sought a deeper connection to the heavens themselves. But the heaven's secrets were not easily divulged which meant each star-touched member of the household of Arius spent their waking moments during the nights, where the sun had set, the skies were clear and the stars shone bright. When he was young, his father Alistair the current Lord of the family had always insisted he kept his routine just as the normal folk but in a household full of members who treated their night as day and their day as night, Aster soon found himself following the same pattern which frustrated him to no end.

But today's routine was one borne out of necessity. It was finally his turn to meditate on the Scaffolding, a sacred enchanted place their household used to quietly comprehend the cosmos. To him though it was also the only place where he could freely bask in his connection to the stars above without being forced to repeatedly cast spells for mastery, the only place free from his father's influence. Just like other mages, Astrologers needed to meditate in order to increase their affinity with the cosmos, something his father and his father's father and the one before had mandated for each one of their descendants throughout the years.

He truly wanted to be excited for it but instead he sighed. His eccentric astral gift had woken him up today and inside his room of all places. He was severely tempted to just brush it off since his father would never know but his sense of duty once again prevailed…and guilt. What many people were not aware of was that once a mage is touched by stars they almost always develop an astral gift, a small talent that would always stay with them and grow throughout their lives. Pesky and troublesome to discover at times, it was only when his life was in danger that it became known he also had one. And so ever since then his father had laid a ground rule for him. Every time his astral gift went 'off', he was to report to him as soon as possible, regardless of everything, a rule he now detested very much.

He took his time to enjoy the whispering breeze, a cold wind that ruffled his dark short hair until he came to a decision. For now he would take his time to prepare, have a bath, a change of clothes and a heavy breakfast before his dreadful dutiful meeting. In fact, he mischievously smiled as he thought of it; he might as well take a much needed detour first. After all his father would never dare complain if he visited his mother first.

** ** **

Bathed, fed and clothed in a robe of midnight blue, Aster made his way through the labyrinthine halls of his home. Although outside there were only a few minutes to twilight, inside the manor seemed livelier than ever. Several maids and stewards were dithering to and fro throughout the corridors lit by the enchanted stones. The Manor of the House of Arius was surprisingly large, housing several members from different branches along with a lot more of servants, some who were just now preparing themselves to serve a few of who were meant to meditate at the scaffolding tonight.

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Making haste through several archways, Aster finally reached his destination. An ornate amber door stood before him several feet high, its handles wrought with imprinted laurels and flowers. In fact at the center stood a masterpiece whose petals were so vividly red that it contrasted sharply with the earthy brown texture of the door, and the marble grays of the walls.

Pushing the creaking door aside revealed a small private garden. With the night's sky already turning purple, enchanted starite stones worked together to lit up the entire place in a silvery hue. A single velvet resting couch was placed on his left along with a small table and a few chairs whilst a miniature greenhouse stood further away. The rest of the garden was filled with lines and beds of rare herbs and plants, all meticulously curated with the centermost occupied by the very same flowers that decorated the amber door, the Crimson Blossoms.

At a clear glance, it was very obvious why they were his mother's favorite. Apart from the single handedly being the most important flower in the garden as they were the main ingredient for most of the healing potions in the house, its vividly red colored petals and golden glinting stamens heightened the whole place. Sharp and mellow scents lingered in the air and of course he found his mother kneeling beside a new bed of soil shaded by an umbrella held by her personal maid. Her hands held some gardening tools and her working robe was caked in dirt and sand which told Aster of the many hours his mother has spent in the garden.

"Mother!" He exclaimed as he ran towards her. At his voice, she abruptly stopped what was doing and then turned, her hands letting go of her tools before holding him in a tight embrace.

"Son," she said as she warmly smiled despite a film of perspiration on her beautiful but pale face.

"You were supposed to be resting." Aster complained as he saw her pallid demeanor once he let her go. His mother airily brushed away his concerns.

"Then what am I supposed to do all day then? Listen to your father's dreary talks?" She intoned as she gestured for the maid to clear up the tools she left on the ground.

Tall, regal, slender with long dark hair and compelling eyes, his mother always had a presence no one could dare ignore, even him. This was why he couldn't help but pout at her remark. Ever since he can remember his mother had always had a weak body. One time he had overheard a few servants whispering he was the reason for his mother's weakness which she vehemently denied when he finally summoned the courage to ask. It wasn't until he later discovered the very same servants were apparently missing that it dawned to him that there might be some truth to it after all.

Not that he could do anything about it.

Still a slight feeling of guilt rose within him.

"I can lend a hand you know. I might not know all these flowers yet but I'm sure I can help pluck the weeds out."

She chuckled. "Son, as much as your help would be appreciated, these gardens are the only thing that keeps your mother sane in this overly large house. You wouldn't want to rob me of my only work now, would you?"

Aster almost rolled his eyes. "Really mother, your only work? What about the all those healing potions and several draughts you have been making? Whose work is that?"

His mother mirthlessly laughed before she slowly made for the couch. "As the only one decently knowledgeable about the healing arts in a house of mages obsessed with stars, I found myself fulfilling that role. Besides I can only do much for our family. Don't deny me this little pleasure of mine." she chuckled as she neared the couch.

"Now let me lay my body down and then we can resume our talk. I'm sure you did not come here to have this old argument between us now, did you?"

With a little effort on his part, Aster finally led her mother to the grand velvet crouch while her maiden servant hurried off to finish some of the smaller tasks that remained. Taking a closer seat beside her, they each sat in a familiar silence, both enjoying the cold whispering breeze of the dawning night until Aster decided to just come outright with it.

"I had...that strange feeling today."

Her mother's radiant face went still before her eyes bore into him.

"When was that dear?"

Hearing his mother's voice, a slight chill rose in his back.

"Just as I woke up today." He truthfully answered. He nervously paused for a few seconds before he continued.

"It was… very weird and strange. You and father know I only ever felt it once and that was before something bad had happened. But now I'm just…confused."

Her mother lightly took a deep long breath before she asked.

"Have you told this to your father?"

Aster groaned. "No…not yet but do I have to mother? I mean I might have imagined it this morning and we all know how bizarre my astral gift is. It has been silent all this time after we have done everything to deduce its nature. Why would it awaken now?"

Even as her mother's eyes were filled with compassion, her voice was still stern.

"Do not underestimate your heritage my son. You are a descendant of the most powerful astrologer in the house. No matter how strange your astral gift seems to be, it all means we haven't yet manage to comprehend exactly what it does…which is why you should let your father do what he does best. He is not the current Lord out of chance. His white silvery head is filled with all sorts of knowledge about the countless astral gifts your ancestry has ever awakened."

Aster almost groaned again until he stopped himself in time under his mother's glare. This time her voice was soft.

"My dear son, you shouldn't let your father's harsh training cloud your mind. You and I both know he does this out of the love in his heart. If we could guess just based from the past, your astral gift might very well be tied to your well-being. And so until then, your father deserves to know every single detail pertaining to it. It's the only way for you to deeper understand your own gift."

Feeling the rebellious thoughts he was nursing crumble away, Aster sighed.

"Fine," he gave in, "I will go tell father straight away. I won't be surprised if he is still in his study just as I left him yesterday. Does he ever sleep?"

Her mother laughed before she lightly waved her hand.

"Go now, and be done with it. I'm sure you can't wait to go to the scaffolding."

Aster positively beamed as he hugged his mother again before he made for the door.

"Aster…" she suddenly called.

Stopping in his tracks, Aster turned only to see her face burdened with sudden worry.

"Do follow your father's training my son; especially now more than ever."

Aster was just about to speak before she immediately cut him off.

"You can go now. Only return after you are done with your meditation."

A soft force propelled him to the opened door before it shut behind , leaving him once again in front of the dazzling crimson blossom under the marble gray walls.