"Mother, what is a Star?"
"Which, dear? The sky ones or-"
"No, the other ones, the ones with the masks."
"Ah. Well, child, Stars come from the celestials, the 'sky-lights' you might know as a different kind of star. But they also need magic to form. It is said that remnant streams of power still escape the Great Halls where the Mageyes are held, and when these streams enter the sky, they collide with the energy of a celestial. This powerful union actually makes two beings- but they are born as one. In ancient days, it is said that the world and time itself were actually the first Stars, known to us as 'Gainaen' and 'Khorone'. As brother and sister, they split apart in order to create the many worlds, including ours. But that is a long story, and I'm afraid it's long past your bedtime."
"But Mother-"
"Hush, dear, and I'll sing you a lullaby."
Far in the vast sky, beyond even the moons, the brightest celestial in the sky hummed to its' selves in a tune unknown to mortal beings. They were approaching supernova, their being all ready superheating in preparation for the long cold of the far sky. It was only a few hundred years away now- they could only prepare their last children for their greatest mission. One of great power and fury, the other of soft voice but also wisdom and judgement. These red and blue minds would descend from the celestial's firey body- all in good time. Another wave would come soon...they had calculated it many eons ago when Gainaen informed them that all but one world would come to an end, all but a fabled 'paradise planet' where the first Stars themselves lived and awaited the arrival of the eight races' heroes to help them create once again. It was almost a prohpecy. And so in order to ensure theirs was the strongest Star possible, the many of this particular celestial had imposed upon themselves what could be abstractly considered abstinance- though passing rays of magic excited them, made them hazy and impulsive, they would pull themselves just enough together to resist creating a single child. And so, in their eyes only moments away from separation- the closest thing to death a celestial would ever feel- they now prepared to have what were to be their first and only children. For the planet we have warmed, they sang. With a pulsating warmth, the magical tendril phased over them, through them, and away. The celestial sighed, and their warm breaths released a meteor. But they could not help but weep- the magic, they realized, was from too unstable a Mageye, one so ancient it had now begun to die. Their children would be unstable- the celestial prayed to Gainaen and Khorone for their children's safety and balance, and the hope of their world.
The meteor sped towards the world, curved about the moons, and pierced the inner sky in flame, landing in a thick woodland. The world spun on, ignorant of what had changed, blissfully unaware of the chaos to come, and woefully unprepared for the journey to the end.
