Diane didn't sleep that night.
The star-shaped mark on her wrist pounded faintly, not fading, not cooling. She tried washing it off, scrubbing it, even tried wrapping it with a cloth-but it glowed through everything, soft and strange like a moonlight beneath her skin.
Morning came by, she tucked her blanket tight and returned to her daily routine-gathering herbs, helping out in her father's shop-but her mind was not with the basket or scales. It was on the empty space. The stone. The mark.
She decided to tell no one about it, not even her father.
Then the strangers arrived.
Three cloaked riders entered Alde North just past mid day. The horses were unlike anything Diane had seen-silver-maned, with glowing hooves that didn't stir dust. The whole village was in a pause with their work, eyes following the riders with suspicion and a bit of fear.
They stopped by the village square.
One of them which was the tallest amongst them came down from the horse back, scanned the environment in a very fast pace, he opened his mouth, "we seek the one who bears the mark of falling starlight."
No one spoke.
Until the second rider lifted a strange glass disk, whispered a word, and let it float. It hovered, spinning slowly, then turned-and pointed towards Diane.
Everyone gasped.
Her father stepped forward. What's all this nonsense about, who are you guys? .
No one spoke.
Diane very curious about what they meant tried to stopped her father from saying any more words that might seem offensive. Her father didn't even acknowledge her.
"There must be a mistake-she is just a girl."
"She is marked," the third rider said, his voice was more gentle. "And she is being summoned."
Before she could argue, the mark on her wrist flared like fire. Diane winced. The rides looked her her, not in fear-but awe.
"Diane," said the first rider. "The stars have named you. The dreaming court awaits you."
And just like that, the ordinary life of Diane began to unravel.
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