Sovereign of Stars

prologue

LUKE

Veador

Maius

Standing atop the frozen lake, Luke waited for the moon to rise. It couldn't be long now; the night was already aglow with stars, turning the sky into a deep, vibrant indigo. The snowy boughs of the mighty trees craned up towards the heavens, ringed around the lake, as if reaching for the first rays of moonlight. No, it couldn't be long indeed.

The thought sent a shiver of excitement down Luke's spine. He'd been waiting for the full moon for a month now, and each measly day had felt like pulling teeth. Now, it was finally time.

Luke took a deep breath, watching as it crystallized in the chilly air. That was the thing he loved about Veador: the never-ending cold. As one of the northern-most islands of Silva, Veador was set in an eternal winter, full of snow and frost and ice. Some people hated it, and spent the colder days penned up inside around a blazing fire, but not Luke. No, Luke loved the cold. It was magical to him.

Magical, he thought as a grin spread across his face. The word had a whole new meaning to him now.

As Luke surveyed the tree-line to ensure he was alone, he caught a glimpse of bright white light out of the corner of his eye and every muscle in his body went very still.

Finally.

The moon rose over the tree-tops, casting down its light onto the frozen lake below. Everything seemed to glow at that, and it took Luke's breath away as he watched. It was time.

Luke sank to his knees atop the thick ice and brushed away the layer of powdery snow that had nestled upon it. Once he had, he pressed a gloved hand to the ice and closed his eyes.

Slowly, as if he was coming out of a dream, Luke felt his senses expand tenfold. He became aware of every current beneath the frozen lake, of the snow softly falling from branches where woodland animals traipsed across them, of the moonlight shining upon his face.

The incantation rose from somewhere deep inside of Luke, but as he said it, his smile grew deeper. He opened his eyes as he finished, and when he removed his hand from the ice, an ancient glowing rune took its place.

I did it, Luke thought, eyes wide with amazement. He looked around as if to find someone to share the news with, but again, found no one.

Luke cleared his throat and got to his feet. He held a hand out before him, parallel to the ground. He took a deep breath and flexed his hand. With a rush, the snow covering the remainder of the frozen lake flew outwards into the forest at his will.

An astonished laugh escaped Luke's lips, and with another glance up at the moon, now high in the sky above him, Luke set himself free. He motioned this way and that, sending ice and snow up into spirals and out into the woods. The magic flowed from him like water and ignited before his eyes like fireworks, sparking in blues and whites and silvers like stars of his very own. This wintery wonderland had become his kingdom, if only for a night.

It had only been a month since Luke discovered his abilities, but he had used the time in between the full moons to study all that he could. He'd burned countless candles staying up late reading plenty of books about magic and myth, legends and gods. He'd read about the gods, and how sometimes, they'd bestow their abilities onto a group of individuals to serve as their champions in conflicts to come.

In Veador, Luke didn't know much about any conflicts—aside from when he and his younger brother would bicker about any given topic—but what he did know was that he had a gift from the gods, and it could not be used in vain.

Just as Luke was constructing a flower out of ice, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the snow on the banks behind him. He froze, the flower dissolving before his eyes as he turned around.

Standing there, directly behind him, was a man dressed in dark armor. From where Luke stood in the center of the lake, he couldn't make out much of the man, but the moonlight illuminated the medals and badges across his chest. A deep indigo cloak billowed in the evening air behind him.

Luke shivered, and not because of the cold. This man was a member of the Legion.

"You there," the man called, his voice reverberating across the lake. "What are you doing?"

Luke glanced down at the ice beneath his feet and back up at the man, unsure of what to say. He couldn't very well admit he'd been practicing magic, could he? He'd be locked up or marked insane, surely. People didn't do things like that nowadays.

Luke said nothing. He did nothing. And for a few moments, neither did the man.

But then, the man raised a fist in what Luke could only imagine was some kind of military signal. Suddenly, soldiers emerged from the trees, surrounding Luke along the shore. He was trapped.

"What are you doing?" Luke exclaimed, turning back to the man. "I'm innocent! I-I'm just a boy!"

"Yes, quite," the man drawled. "But a boy with magic, nonetheless."

Luke felt his heart stop, unsure of what to do next. The soldiers were all holding what looked like two different instruments: one, sleek and cylindrical and the other, something close to a torch.

"Now!" the man commanded.

"Wait!" Luke shouted, but it was futile.

Around the shore, every other soldier bent down to the ice with their torch-like instruments. Suddenly, Luke heard an unmistakable sound of ice crackling and melting.

Luke wasn't sure what else to do. He ran.

He barely made it two yards before the ice dissolved from beneath his feet, sending him into the freezing water below. A thousand pins and needles seemed to wedge themselves through Luke's heavy clothes, the chill piercing its way into his very soul. Luke forced himself to kick, and he broke through the surface in time to see the remaining soldiers take their comrades places, pointing their batons into the water.

A feeling like lightning ripped through Luke's body, sending the world spinning into flashes of black and white, until he looked back up at the luminous full moon and suddenly moved no more.