​“Zorn?” Claire echoed, tilting her head. “That's a cool name!”

​“Claire, darling, why don't you play outside with your brothers and sisters for a while?” Gael suggested. He rose from his chair with an effortless grace.

​“Aaaww! But I want to stay here and see the new guests!” she whined, crossing her arms.

​Gael smiled. In one fluid motion, he swooped Claire off her feet and tucked her against his chest. 

“But Daddy wants to see how many beetles you can catch.”

​“But I want to join you all!”

​Zorn watched the display. Gael coddled the girl, meeting her defiance with playful nudges and a gentle warmth.

​How does he know exactly who I am?

​Zorn stared at Gael's back. The ambient noise of the house faded into a dull hum as his mind raced.

​Did I walk straight into a trap? Usually, angery energy acts as a compass. The sharper the rage, the darker the energy I sense.

​A memory flickered. He saw the Mystic Current going ballistic. He remembered how he had followed that trail of filth, guided entirely by the heat of his own fury.

​Now, he watched Gael press his cheek against Claire’s, coaxing a giggle out of the little girl.

​There is nothing. No heat, no static. Yet he knows my name. He knows my nature. Who is this man?

​Zorn shifted his gaze toward Mossiah. The man was a statue. While everyone else softened, Mossiah remained sharp, his eyes boring into Gael as if searching for a crack in a mask.

​“Okay! Fine!” Claire’s voice broke the silence. “But you promise to let me keep the beetles, Daddy?”

​Gael chuckled, setting her down. 

“Beetles are creatures of the wild, darling. They would grow sad inside a house. Don't you want them to be happy? They have families out there, too.”

​Claire pouted, her lower lip trembling slightly. “Yeah.”

​“Good. Let's keep them outside. You can visit them whenever you like.”

​“Okay!” She beamed, rushing out of the house. Her laughter trailed behind her as she disappeared into the flowery hills, one hand holding her sun hat in place.

​Gael watched her go, his expression soft. He sighed and closed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice remained a calm, steady melody.

​“Relax, Zorn. I am not dangerous.” He slowly shifted his gaze toward the boy. “I can feel your anxiety from a mile away.” He let out a soft chuckle and returned to his seat.

​The remark caught Zorn off guard. His shoulders, which had been pulled tight to his ears, slowly lowered. 

“You're… not? You don't think I am a curse?”

​“Of course not.” Gael took a slow, deliberate sip from his cup.

​Cecelia leaned forward. Her eyes were as tender as her husband's. “How old are you, Zorn?”

​“I'm… fifteen.”

​Cecelia’s smile faltered. A shadow of grief passed over her features. “So young. And yet, you carry the weight of thinking you're a curse?”

​Zorn blinked. The way she said it made the idea of being a "curse" sound like a burden placed on him, rather than a fact of his existence. He looked to Gael, finding the same pitying look there.

​“You're just a kid,” Gael said.

​Zorn's eyes widened. He didn't know how to process the lack of fear in their voices.

​Gael set his cup down. “You are probably wondering how I know you. Cecelia and I are alchemists. We study the old ways. We believe in the tales others have forgotten. Like the story of the boy who falls from a scorpion's heart to learn the ways of the world.”

​Zorn gasped. 

Wait, that sounds exactly like me!

​“Told you he was prophesied,” Donal muttered to Khor, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “First the king, and now a family of alchemists.”

​“Okay, I get it,” Khor snapped back.

​“How can I be sure you're not a threat?” Zorn asked, his voice low.

​“There is a simple test,” Gael answered. “Watch how people name you. If they call you a ‘Star Curse,’ they most likely view you as a weapon or a shadow to be feared. If they call you a ‘Star Soul,’ you most likely have found an ally.”

​“Why do you say ‘most likely’?” Zorn pressed.

​Gael sighed, his fingers tracing the rim of his cup. 

“Because the world isn't so black and white, child. Some people are simply echoing what they’ve been told. Others might use the kindest names only to lead you into a cage. The politics surrounding your kind run deeper than any well.”

​Zorn went quiet, staring at the scuffs on his boots.

​Wait.

​A memory echoed back like a lightning strike. He saw Lira again back in the Sixth Realm. He felt the phantom touch of her hand on his shoulder. 

The rough bark of a tree pressing against his back as they sat high up in the branches, staring up at the glittering night sky and large cresent moon dipping below th mountains, smiling in its tilt.

​[“I read in one of the books before it was banned that you could turn into a star curse if you wish on a star with strong enough emotions. Would it be cool if that were us one day? You and me, star curses! We'd have such cool powers!"]

​His blood ran cold. His fingers curled into tight, trembling fists.

​She called it a Star Curse.

​He shook his head violently, trying to rattle the thought loose. 

No! There has to be a reason. She might not have known a better term! She wouldn't have wanted me to make such a wish if otherwise, right?! RIGHT?!

​“It's okay if you don't trust me yet, Zorn.” Gael’s voice was a tether, pulling him back from the spiral.

​Zorn looked up with a gasp. The couple sat there, patient and still. 

his shoulders sank with a grounding sigh.

A realization dawned on him. 

This man is giving me the pieces I need to survive.

​“I trust you,” Zorn said. His voice was flat, certain.

​Gael tilted his head, his hands hugging his warm tea cup. “Why the sudden change?”

​“I feel no hatred from you. Your aura… it’s pure. There's no spark to trigger my senses. You feel warm. It's disarming. Also, your treatment toward the children is great. No evil person could ever be so kind to someone so vulnerable.”

​Gael and Cecelia shared a soft, knowing look. Nearby, Ángel took a long drink from his cup, his eyes darting between them like he was watching a play.

​Mossiah stepped forward, breaking the spell. 

“There is another thing this boy doesn't realize. His ‘star’ digs into people. It drags the darkest parts of a person to the surface. You feel like you can tell him anything, even the secrets you’ve buried.”

​I was hoping his presence would force them to finally talk about their son.

​Gael and Cecelia looked up, their expressions flickering with genuine shock.

​“How interesting,” Gael said, his smile returning. “You are a very gifted child. Observant, too.” He reached out and lightly patted Zorn’s head.

​Zorn couldn't help it. A warm, flowery sensation bloomed in his chest. For the first time in a long time, he felt seen.

​Gael turned his gaze toward the round window. The sky was a bleeding canvas of gold and burnt orange. 

“The sun is setting. You should all stay the night. Your horse needs time to recover her strength, and the woods are no place for a Star Soul after dark.”