My father took me up past the library, and the glow of the singular flame fell past the very many fossilised creatures he had collected and put on display. It ignited my yet untamed imagination. I saw in those lightless, hollow eyes the ghosts of primordial beasts, which had walked the earth when bone and blood ruled it – a stark reminder that underneath the calm of logic roils cruel and violent origins.

As we made our way past these forgotten horrors, to stairs that led up higher, my father remained quiet. By day he undoubtedly would have told me about the manifold histories locked away in the display cases we passed, but it appeared that particular night was not one for tales of the past. Rather, he would take me up into the largest of the four towers that graced our home with the intent of showing me my future.

The tower itself held my father's study: it was a single, square room on the corner of the manor, with slender, tall windows and two balconies that faced the gardens. Through the paned doors one could look out over the grounds, which stretched all the way down the gentle slope of the hill to where it reached the brick walls and road about a mile away. But I was not interested in the ground: strewn across the night sky laid the stars, alluring yet so very distant they shimmered in that vast emptiness, and I wished to know them.

While I pressed my hands up against the shut doors in awe of the sight, my father lit several candles. Before long the warm flickering overcame the faint, pale glow of the moon. He placed a hand on my shoulder, and smiled at my curiosity with the sort of pride that every child wishes for.

"Father?" My question broke the silence that had defined him until then – with reason, for he had clearly pondered over his next words.

"I have no doubt that one day you will make a leader. Like the Northern star has guided many great explorers, your brilliance shall guide humanity to a grand future."

Although I believed his words contained encouragement, and was able to smile due to that, his expectations weighed heavy. For stars were distant and still, certain of their position in the sky – and I was not. If anything, the outerworldly height of his hopes daunted me, for were I not able to reach them, surely I would plummet.

My father did not appear to notice my trepidation however, or perhaps he refused to acknowledge it. Instead he pushed open the door, and led me to the balcony to watch the stars.