The night wind whispered in the trees like a witch casting an ancient spell over the world. Branches clattered and trunks creaked as if talking to each other, and, from time to time, the lone cry of an owl could be heard. Long shadows crept over the white castle walls as the bright moon was playing hide and seek with the clouds plastered over the sky.

It was a peaceful night. The sentries walked their rounds with a calm monotonous pace or were huddled warming their hands over the braziers in the watchhouse. Someone was telling a joke, bringing up laughter from their comrades. A lone watchman started humming a love-song, his eyes drifting occasionally to the full moon. There was nothing to fear in this peaceful spring night.

Then suddenly, everything stood still. The wind died out. The steps of the guards started to drag and slowed down, until with a low thud their bodies sprawled on the ground. The laughter was gone, and so was the love-song. Only the quiet breathing or occasional snore revealed that the guards were not dead but actually fast asleep.

This unnatural slumber, however, was not targeting only Ildemar’s defenses. It enveloped the whole castle – from the stables to the duke’s chambers. Not only that, even the animals couldn’t resist it. The only people who sensed the slumber coming were the binshi. When the first wisps of the hex entered their minds, everyone greeted them with joy and reverence. This was a sign. The Star-gazer was awakening and going to make her prophecy. No living soul was allowed to witness this.

As the clan elders accepted the dream, their hearts were still heavy. These were uneasy times. Rarely in the past had a Star-gazer awakened without the protection of the previous generation. Would the barriers they had placed around the castle hold against attacks from malicious souls? Would their little lady survive after peering into the flow of time, or would she perish the moment she makes her prophecy? Yet, they could do nothing but obey the hex.

A lone white figure slowly walked through the dark corridors. Her silver hair trailed behind as if blown by the gentlest of winds and her whole body was enveloped in a silver shimmer. Two gem-like blue eyes stared straight ahead, serene but unblinking, as the child followed the will of her blood.

Her light steps led Shana to the tall white bridge, and then over to the small forest on Star-gazer island. Not long after, she entered the stone gazebo at the very summit and stood there motionlessly. The light of the full moon enveloped her almost like a shiny cocoon. The child’s feet left the ground as she gently floated in the air and remained suspended a few steps up.

It was beginning.

Protected by magic as ancient as Norden itself, this sacred transition was supposed to stay hidden from the eyes of all living creatures. And yet, there was a spectator.

In the shadows near one of the gazebo’s columns stood a translucent figure. Hands behind his back, kush-turgan Yanosh thought with some bemusement that if he still had a heart, it would be racing right now. His silver eyes remained peeled at his daughter, while he silently prayed to the Mother Above to spare his child. The moment a Star-gazer peered into the flow of time, their fate was sealed. For the few distorted and often incomprehensive images of the future, they paid with their life. This was the punishment for any mortal trying to pry into the realm of God.

Staring at Shana’s light-clad figure, Yanosh could clearly remember his own awakening – the curiosity, impatience, and pride he had felt. And the horror of realization in the end that he won’t reach more than forty years of age. It had almost crushed him. But he had the support of his aunt and second uncle. Their guidance as he tried to recall the chaotic images and decipher the verses that he had uttered in his trance had been invaluable. Yet, Shana was all alone now, the last of their clan. There was no living Star-gazer to guide her and no shaman of their kin to summon and embody the past generations. Yanosh still hoped that the remnants of his spirit might provide her some guidance and consolation, albeit briefly. The first step, however, she had to take on her own.

The light around Shana grew stronger and stronger. Even her eyes looked like they were filled with silver stars. When her lips parted, a low voice shook the air.

“The fate of Norden rides on the wings of a bird.”

Leaves rustled and the wind took up again. The voice spoke further.

“As the Beast falls, the Swallow triumphs.”

The gale grew stronger and stronger, twisting around the small silver figure. But it didn’t end there.

“When flowers bloom under the Beast’s feet, the hearts of people quake.”

Two bright red pendants glowed on the girl's chest as the words left her lips. Syllable after syllable, the prophecy entered the world of the living.

“As the White Lady heralds war, the Beast howls in agony.”

A wisp of mist, unperturbed by the brewing storm, rose from the ground and swirled around Yanosh’s incorporeal figure. A tiny voice, almost a whisper, melted into the night.

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“Stop her! It’s too much!”

“I can’t, Orhana.” Yanosh’s face twisted in pain. He looked at their child, wishing to break the ritual, to take her away to safety. But it was impossible. “This is her fate. And her curse.”

A bolt of blinding lightning split the sky, followed by a ground-shaking thunder. When the rumbling died down, the child’s lips parted again.

“For the Sun to shine over Norden, the Swallow must be devoured.”

In an instant, the wind disappeared as if it had never been there. The mist around Yanosh jumped up and surrounded the child. It condensed into a single drop of light and entered one of the amulets hanging from her neck. At the same instance, the radiance around Shana’s body dimmed and she slowly landed on the stone floor of the gazebo.

Without hesitation, Yaosh’s spirit flew towards her and hovered above. His strained features finally relaxed. It was over. She was going to live! His translucent hand stretched out, his fingers – sinking in the cheek he tried to caress. A pained smirk appeared on the ghost’s face. How foolish he had been. He had exhausted too much of his powers. Now, he couldn’t touch her without a body. Well, at least he could talk to her.

Leaning down, Yanosh whispered gently:

“Shana. My little mi-moren, my star-light, wake up! Wake up, darling!”

The child groaned but her eyes remained tightly shut.

At that moment, a dry branch snapped nearby. Jumping up in an instant, Yanosh frantically looked around. This shouldn’t be possible. No living being should be around, lest it had the blood of a Star-gazer. And yet, there it was.

From behind one of the stone pillars, a lone figure stepped into the moonlight. The long shadow that trailed behind could mean only one thing – this was a person of flesh and bone. And it was someone Yanosh knew quite well.

“What are you doing here, girl?” The ghost stood up between Shana and the newcomer. “No, rather, how can you be here?”

“Now this is heart-breaking, kush-turgan Yanosh.” The distant voice that left the woman’s lips was definitely male. “After so many years, I had a different reunion in mind.”

“Akh-Moren, you bastard!” Yanosh hissed, spitting out the name as if it was poison. “How dare you desecrate this sacred ritual?! Leave that body immediately!”

“Spare me the lectures of a false prophet.” The woman made another step forward and long black tendrils started rising from her shadow. “Still, it is funny. I spent years combing through the Spirit Plane in search of you. To think that I was wasting my time, while you were lingering here. No matter, now I can crush you. Or even better – make you into an obedient puppet.”

The shadow-tendrils suddenly shot forward but were reflected with a loud clang by a light barrier. Yanosh stood there, hands stretched to the side and brows furrowed. The silver outlines of his body started to dim.

“I won’t let you harm her!”

“Harm her?! You are mistaken. I am here to save her. Liberate her. Make her the true leader of our people. The one who would drive away the limerian scum.”

“You are insane!”

“No.” The shadowy tendrils struck the barrier again and again. “You are a traitor of your kind.”

With a crash, the shadows bore trough and pierced the ghostly body behind. Yanosh screamed and his light dimmed even more. He twisted his neck, looking at the little figure on the cold stones.

“To think that you were so weak!” Akh-Moren smirked. “Staying so long away from the Spirit Plane has turned the great kush-turgan Yanosh into a mere specter.”

“You have no idea,” whispered Yanosh and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, mi-moren. I wished we could talk. But I’ll see you again once more before the end. I love you.”

Even before the last syllable had died out, blinding light erupted, engulfing the whole island. As it slowly dimmed, only two lone figures were left in the gazebo.

“Damn you, Yanosh!” Akh-Moren howled, feeling his grip over the borrowed body growing weaker. “If you think a dhrowghost’s mark can be erased so easily, you are mistaken.”

Suddenly, the imposter felt a slight tremor. It didn’t come from the mundane world, but rather from the Spirit Plane. The slumber had been forcefully broken and the elders in the castle had been alerted of his presence. It was a matter of minutes before they would storm in.

“Clever bastard. But you underestimate me.”

Looking around, the imposter spotted a little white flower growing at the steps of the gazebo. With a smirk, Akh-Moren picked it up and held it in his hands. Dark mist seeped out from the woman’s body that he was currently using, and started entering the flower. He needed to be careful and not drain the dhrowghost’s remnants completely. That pawn still had its uses.

Little by little, the flower turned dark and shone like polished obsidian. It flew out of the woman’s hands and landed on the finger of the still unconscious child, transforming into a small flower-shaped ring. Silver sparks flew around it, but it didn’t disappear. Instead, the black color faded little by little, remaining only in the very depths of the flower. In the end, it looked like nothing more than a normal silver ring.

A grayish smoke rose up from the ring, coagulating and slowly morphing into a figure. It was a young man. His long hair was tied with a band and fell over his shoulder almost to his waist. The features of his see-through face were soft and gentle with small dimples around the mouth, indicating that its owner liked to laugh. But there was something in kush-turgan Yanosh’s eyes that didn’t quite match the rest of his appearance – something cold and sinister.

The ghost turned around to its former host, now just standing there like an empty husk.

“Go back to your room. You shall remember nothing of this until I need you again, my little unwitting spy.”

The woman turned around and, with the shaking step of someone sleepwalking, left the gazebo. Throwing her a final glance, Akh-Moren knelt down to Shana. His ghostly hand tried to touch her only for a shower of sparks to repel him.

“Nothing less expected from a Star-gazer. And yet, you are still just a gullible little girl.”

He leaned even further down, whispering in Shana’s ear.

“Wake up, child. It is time to open your eyes. Your father is here to guide you.”