For eons, Astrynor was a land defined by the sky. From the moonlight spires of Aetherwyn to the forge-fires of Thargrum, every soul was a tether, pulled tight by the constellations that claimed them at birth. To be born was to be "Chosen" to have a star stitch its fire, its shadow, or its stone into your very marrow. Magic wasn't a gift; it was a bond. It was the light that gave a life its shape, its purpose, and its power. 

but. that changed

In recent decades, the celestial music has turned to static. They call it The Flickering. The constellations—once the cold, brilliant architects of destiny—have begun to turn away. The tethers are snapping. The "Great Bond" that held the kingdoms in balance is fraying, leaving the world heavy, the elements stagnant, and the temples in ruin.
In a world where the light of a star is everything, what is a child born into the dark?

Hollow.

Hello sorry for the lack of chapters i know people dont read this but ive been busy with work and school recently ill pick up the novel again next chapter coming tommorow alongside 2 other


Chapter 6 - author note