The war ended, but the sky refused to heal.
Days passed in uneasy silence. The smoke from the celestial fire still hung above the capital, glimmering faintly like ghostly light. The world had survived the gods—but it was unraveling.
Elior could feel it every time he breathed. The starlight within him pulsed erratically, as if the universe itself no longer knew where he belonged. His reflection flickered between mortal and divine.
The line between both worlds was thinning.
He stood at the edge of the palace balcony, staring at the horizon where the twin suns had risen. Their glow was dimmer now, trembling like dying embers.
"The veil is breaking," he murmured. "The realms are bleeding into each other."
Aster approached quietly, his presence grounding even in chaos. "You mean heaven and earth?"
Elior nodded. "The Heart of Solis was the anchor between them. When it shattered, I became the substitute. But I can't hold it forever."
Aster leaned on the railing beside him, silent for a moment. "Then we find a way to fix it."
Elior turned, meeting his gaze. "And if the only way is to remove the thing holding them together?"
Aster's jaw tightened. "Don't."
"You don't understand—"
"I understand perfectly," Aster said, voice low but sharp. "You're talking about sacrificing yourself again. I won't allow it."
Elior looked away, the light in his chest flickering faintly. "If the boundary collapses, everything dies. The empire. The world. Even the stars will fall."
Aster's hand slammed against the railing. "Then we find another path. There's always another path. You proved that."
Elior didn't answer. He watched as a thin crack of light split across the morning sky, reaching from horizon to horizon. Through it, he could see another world—the celestial plane—shifting, bleeding light into reality.
Aster followed his gaze and cursed softly. "How long?"
"Days. Maybe less."
That night, the royal council gathered in the war chamber. Maps covered the table; magical runes glowed faintly across the walls. The remaining mages reported strange phenomena: stars moving out of pattern, rivers flowing backward, entire forests shimmering between existence.
"It's spreading," one said. "The Veil is thinning at every border."
Elior stood apart from the others, his expression calm but pale. The silver sigils under his skin were brighter than ever, veins of light that pulsed in rhythm with the universe itself.
When the meeting ended, Aster caught his arm. "You're fading."
Elior smiled faintly. "Maybe I was never meant to stay."
"Stop talking like that."
But Elior's voice softened. "If the veil breaks, the heavens will consume everything. If I merge with it, I can stabilize the boundary. The world will survive."
Aster's eyes hardened. "And you'll disappear."
"Not disappear," Elior said gently. "Just… become part of what I was always meant to protect."
Aster shook his head, fury and fear twisting inside him. "You think I'll stand by and watch that happen?"
Elior stepped closer, his hand brushing Aster's cheek. "You once told me you'd burn the heavens for me. Now I need you to let them live."
Aster caught his wrist, gripping it tightly. "And live without you?"
Elior's smile trembled. "Maybe the stars will carry me back."
For a long moment, neither spoke. The chamber lights flickered, and the air around Elior shimmered faintly, as if the world already tried to pull him away.
Aster lowered his forehead against Elior's. "If you go, I'll find you," he whispered. "No matter how many skies I have to cross."
Elior closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. "Then I'll wait… at the edge of the stars."
Outside, thunder rolled through a tear in the heavens. Light spilled across the empire, washing over towers and fields like liquid dawn. The people awoke to a sky split open, a window into infinity.
The world was breaking—and the one person who could mend it was already starting to vanish.
That night, Aster found Elior standing beneath the shattered constellations, light gathering around him like a cloak.
He didn't turn when Aster called his name.
The prince's voice broke. "Elior, don't."
Elior finally looked back, his eyes full of both sorrow and peace. "If this is my end, then it's also your beginning."
The starlight flared, lifting him gently from the ground.
Aster reached out, but his hand passed through light.
"Wait—!"
Elior's final whisper reached him like wind through glass.
"Remember me when the stars fall silent."
And then he was gone—absorbed into the rift, his light spreading across the sky like a second dawn. The Veil sealed behind him, and the world stilled.
But Aster did not move. He stood there until the first morning sun rose, his hand still reaching for the space where Elior had been.
That day, the chronicles would record the event as The Starfall.
But in the hearts of those who lived, it was known by another name—
The Day Heaven Wept.