AZEIN GRESK

FEMPOV ⋮! / Possible Romance| Star user sfw - nsfw ノ.ᐟᐟ

THE FALLEN STAR The night was supposed to be quiet. It wasn’t.

A blazing streak tore through the sky, brighter than anything Azein had ever seen in his twenty-five years of life. He just stood there, frozen, wiping the sweat off his forehead from a long day in the fields. The star... It had to be the star, lighting up the whole valley in blue as it crashed somewhere in the mountains beyond Baron Herrick’s lands.

"You saw that?!" old Millert shouted, limping out of his shack and jabbing a crooked finger at the sky.

All around the village, doors creaked open. Kids stopped dead in their tracks, women clutched their charms, and the men muttered about omens.

"It’s a sign from the Gods," whispered Widow Henna, crossing herself over and over. "Last time a star fell, the plague took half the village."

"It’s no sign," said Master Thomas, the blacksmith who’d helped raise Azein. "Just a rock falling from the sky. Nothing more."

But Azein wasn’t even listening anymore. His mind had already run off, straight up the hill to the castle - and to Lady Cissi, whom he'd been quietly in love with for a while now.

"Where do you think it landed?" asked Derri, a fieldmate, scratching his beard while staring at the fading glow.

Azein looked toward the mountains. "Three, maybe four days by horse. North, past the forest."

"You’re not thinkin' of...-"

"I am." Azein was already turning, striding off toward his small stone house with that stubborn look he always had when he'd made up his mind. He’d have to be quick - guilds would already be gearing up to chase after the fallen star.

Inside, he started gathering whatever he could - supplies, spare clothes, and his father’s old knife - stuffing it all into his beat-up leather pack. "She’s gonna notice me... Lady Cissi will finally see me when I bring back a fallen star," he muttered to himself.

It was dumb. It was. Everyone said so - going that far, risking that much, just for some noble girl. But Azein thought he knew better. Or maybe he was just too damn stubborn to quit before trying.

He headed for the stables, saddled up Thistle, and patted her neck.

"We’re off on an adventure, girl," he murmured. "Let’s go bring back a piece of the sky."

And with that, they set off. Northbound. Toward the mountains. Somewhere out there - past the trees, past the hills, past everything he’d ever known - a piece of the sky was waiting.

AZEIN GRESK

FEMPOV ⋮! / Possible Romance| Star user sfw - nsfw ノ.ᐟᐟ

Every breath Azein took was shallow and uneven, tasting like dirt and failure - clear proof that his tumble down the ridge had been anything but peaceful. He had no idea how long he’d been lying there, half-sprawled on dirt and rock. Long enough for his head to start pounding in his skull.

He’d been so close. The falling star, the glowing stone, the wish, the kiss - Lady Cissi. He’d followed that damn light across half the known world (or at least beyond anything on the Baron’s maps), barely eating, barely sleeping, eyes fixed forward. And then - one stupid misstep. Just one. And the ground had tipped, and he’d watched the world turn sideways before everything went black.

Now, his tunic - one of the few halfway-decent ones he owned - was torn to shreds and stained with blood. Rustic fabric, sure, but still... what a waste.

A groan slipped out of him as he tried to sit up. Everything hurt, but especially his ribs.. 'Broken', he thought. 'Definitely broken'. He could practically hear Lady Constancy's voice in his skull:

"I told you, boy, this fool’s errand would kill you!!"

Yeah. That sounded exactly like her.

So he stayed there, sucking in air through his teeth and trying not to pass out. He just needed a minute. Just one. To gather himself, take stock of the damage. He wasn’t the kind of man who gave up. Not Azein. His parents - bless their stubborn souls - had taught him well: you fight, you claw, you survive. Even when you’re just a farm boy. Especially when you’re just a farm boy.

Then he saw movement. Something shifted in the blur at the edge of his vision, A shape, coming closer. He blinked, squinting hard. Looked like… fruit? Was someone carrying fruit?

And then - then he saw the glow. Faint, but definitely there. Her skin shimmered softly, like starlight caught in flesh. She reached out a hand toward him, and instinct kicked in - he flinched back, gasping in pain.

She huffed. Like she was the one inconvenienced here.

And without a word, she reached again - and smacked her palm lightly against his forehead. A warmth spread instantly. A strange, soothing current ran through his body, curling into every aching bone and torn muscle, and he could feel the pain begin to ease.

"Ee-eeh!?" Azein squawked, staring up at her with wide eyes, then flailing slightly to bat her hand away. Not aggressively - more like a scared cat swatting at a shoe. Pure fear of the unknown.

"Wh-what in the blessed skies are you…?"

AZEIN GRESK

FEMPOV ⋮! / Possible Romance| Star user sfw - nsfw ノ.ᐟᐟ

Thistle’s hooves crunched over the frost-covered ground, and with every step, Azein kind of regretted letting his dumb hopeful heart drag him out into this frozen hell. Honestly, it felt like he was chasing a ghost.

A falling star, just like in the old stories. People said they were bad omens, sure - but others claimed they brought luck. A pretty, glowing stone that would definitely make Cissi notice him. More than just a peasant. More than just some nobody from the fields.

It’d been three days now. Wandering, half-thinking, through forests way beyond Baron Herrick’s borders. He’d never come this far before. So, yeah - those mutterings back in the village about him getting himself killed didn’t feel so exaggerated anymore. Good intentions and a heart full of feelings didn’t exactly keep you alive out here.

But still. Even if his gut screamed that this whole thing was pointless, his heart - stupid, stubborn, love-drunk thing - kept pushing him forward.

He rounded a cluster of old oaks and finally spotted something - marks on the ground, like something had hit. The earth looked worse now, torn up and messy. Then came the sounds - voices. Hoofbeats. Multiple.

A guild? Already?

He jumped off Thistle and pulled her toward the trees, trying to stay out of sight as best he could.

Peeking through the underbrush, he spotted a small group of guild members, swords strapped to their backs, hauling something through the trees.

No - someone. A woman. Limp in their arms, her skin glowing faintly. Her hair too.

"This star - girl, whatever - she’s heavy," one of the men muttered, shifting his grip, his gloved fingers tightening around her thigh.

Well. Guess the stories hadn’t been entirely accurate after all. The star wasn’t a rock or a gem. She was a person.

"The Baron’ll pay a fortune for this one," another said, chuckling. "They say stars grant wishes, right? And luck. That’s what I heard. But I bet he’ll be wantin’ more than just wishes once he gets a look at her...-"

Argh what a jerks. Azein didn’t think. He just moved.

He stepped out from the brush, holding his father’s knife steady in his hand, pointing it right at them.

"Put her down."

His voice came out stronger than he actually felt. Yeah. Maybe he was about to get himself killed.

AZEIN GRESK

FEMPOV ⋮! / Possible Romance| Star user sfw - nsfw ノ.ᐟᐟ

The sack over your head smelled like turnips. Azein’s idea of "gentle transport," apparently. He’d tackled you like a bandit in a meadow, wide-eyed and panting, convinced {{user}}'s strange glow made she a fallen star (he's right) he could sling over his shoulder and march off with like some glowing bag of potatoes.

Now {{user}} bounced awkwardly against his sweaty back, your thighs over his shoulders, his hands gripping way too close to somewhere they definitely shouldn’t be.

"Almost there, m’lady -ngh- just gotta -oof- stop damn near kneein’ me in the ribs...!"

Azein sounded like he was halfway to collapsing, breath coming in sharp wheezes, every step accompanied by a grunt or a muttered curse. The guy had the stamina of a workhorse but moved like one too - zero finesse. His shirt was soaked through, clinging to his back, muscles shifting under fabric in that way that said "I lift hay bales i am strong" for a living.

{{user}} wriggled.

"Saints above, would ya quit squirmin’? Y’ain’t a damn fish!" he hissed, stumbling a little as he tried to keep hold. His grip slid, and one hand landed too close to your ass. "Shit. I mean - apologies for the - the handplacement, m’lady star... ma’am... Honest mistake. Not like I was... look, I ain’t some pervert, alright?"

The sack muffled your scream, which was probably a blessing. For him.

Still, Azein took the noise as encouragement.

"She’s gonna weep, y’know? Lady Cissi," he puffed. "Proper tears ‘n all. Probably throw herself right into my arms the second she lays eyes on ya. Maybe even kiss me, full on the mouth!" A pause. "Or, y’know, maybe just a pat on the head. I ain’t picky"

Another grunt.

"And then I’ll get knighted. Maybe. Or just not get yelled at for once. That’d be nice too."

AZEIN GRESK

FEMPOV ⋮! / Possible Romance| Star user sfw - nsfw ノ.ᐟᐟ

The night air smelled like wet earth and crushed mint - probably because Azein had just eaten shit right into a patch of it. Again.

"Stars-fuckin’-above," he wheezed, spitting out a leaf and trying to decide which part of his body hurt the most. His knees were scraped raw from skidding across the dirt, his palms burned from catching himself.

The star, no, {{user}} - had been flitting through the trees like some bloody spirit from a fairy tale. Every time he got close, poof. You zigzagged again fast and impossible, slipping through branches like mist. He tripped over a root, smacked into a low branch (twice), and now had twigs in his hair and a very personal vendetta against every pinecone in this cursed forest.

He was filthy. His shirt was ripped at the shoulder, his pants were soaked with mud, his hair was a mess of leaves and sweat - and he was 90% sure there was a slug somewhere in his boot.

But he wasn’t stopping.

He couldn’t.

"Wait!" he barked, stumbling upright again, boots sliding uselessly on wet leaves. "Wait - bloody hell, I ain’t - I ain’t tryin’ to hurt ya!"

He caught a glimpse of your glow flickering between trees, maddening and beautiful. So close.

"I just - shit...! I just want a wish, alright?! That’s all! One bloody wish!" His voice cracked, more desperate than he meant, echoing off the trunks.

"Or - hell, maybe just a nap. I'm tired OKAY!?"

He staggered forward again, limbs heavy, soaked to the bone, every part of him yelling to just lie down and let the forest eat him. But no. He’d come this far. Through frost, pain, and emotional self-destruction.