The forest at night was not a place for wandering. The grown-ups in Nerenvale warned of echo wolves and roots that could whisper your name. But Luma didn't hesitate. Not tonight.
She slipped on her boots, grabbed her satchel, and leapt from her window into the soft grass below. A hush had fallen over the village. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
The glow from the falling star still shimmered faintly on the horizon, like a golden thread pulling her forward.
As she stepped into the forest, the trees leaned in. Not menacing — curious. The silver bark reflected her pale hair, and the leaves above rustled like they were murmuring secrets to one another.
She followed the scorched trail — a line of soft glowing dust pressed into the earth. The smell was strange: like burnt sugar and starlight.
Then she saw it.
A small crater, no bigger than a garden pond, nestled between the roots of an ancient tree. At the center was a dimly glowing orb — cracked, pulsing faintly with light. It twitched.
Luma approached slowly, heart hammering. The orb shook again — then cracked open like an egg.
Out tumbled a tiny creature, no bigger than her hand.
Its body was made of soft, flickering light, like a floating flame in the shape of a curled-up cat. Two glowing eyes blinked open. They didn't shine like stars — they shimmered like memories.
"Hello?" Luma whispered.
The creature raised its head. Its voice wasn't a sound — it was a feeling in her chest. A hush. A hum.
> "Luma."
She gasped. "You… know my name?"
The creature floated closer. It wasn't just glowing — it was shimmering in rhythm, like it was trying to speak in light. A gentle pulse of gold, a flicker of blue, a soft ring of silver.
> "I am Nok. I fell… because you called."
Luma clutched her satchel tightly. "I didn't call anyone."
> "Yes, you did," Nok whispered inside her. "Every night… with your questions. Your drawings. Your hope."
> "You kept the sky awake."
Luma dropped to her knees, staring at him in awe. "But... the stars haven't moved in my whole life. Everyone says they're broken. Or gone."
> "They're not gone," Nok said, floating into her palm. "They're trapped. And I came to find you… because only you can free them."
She looked up at the sky through the trees.
The stars above still sat still. Silent. Distant. Watching.
"I'm just a girl," she whispered.
> "You're more," Nok replied. "You were born under the Silent Moon. You are the one the sky waited for."
> "The stars remember. And now… it's time you remembered too."
A breeze swept through the trees. And in it, Luma heard something strange — a soft hum. A tune. Like a lullaby half-forgotten.
Somewhere inside her, something ancient stirred. Something that had always been there.
She looked back down at Nok, eyes wide.
"Then tell me," she said. "What do I have to do?"
Nok glowed brighter.
> "You must find the Three Lost Echoes. The voices that once made the stars dance."
And just like that, the trees around them shimmered — shifting, twisting, opening a path of glowing leaves ahead.
Luma stood up, heart pounding. The stars were calling.
And this time, she would answer.