Stars That Shone Brighter: A Tale of Magic and Freedom

I was born beneath a sky of stars I was never allowed to see.

They said I would rule Magvel one day, but what use is a kingdom when you are blind to the world’s beauty?

At sixteen, I was restless, rebellious, and tired of my mother’s constant reminders about the “duty of a queen.” Every time I used words like “cool” or “weird,” she scolded me, claiming a ruler should not speak like the common folk she was meant to protect.

But what is a queen without her people?

“Queen Lea, there is an urgent matter in the discussion room. Princess Min should join you to learn the responsibilities of rulership.”

A guard named Zei, who always had kind eyes, delivered the message. My mother nodded sharply, extending her cold hand to me, a reminder of how distant she had become.

We walked through the endless marble corridors of Raudnir Castle, our footsteps echoing like warnings. The castle was vast, empty, and suffocating, despite its grandeur.

When we reached the heavy mahogany doors, I could hear shouting—angry, desperate, human.

The room fell silent the moment we entered. Heads bowed low, eyes fixed to the floor. “Your Highness,” they greeted in unison.

“Let’s get to the point,” my mother said, her voice like steel. “What is the problem?”

A man with dark eyes stepped forward. “Your Highness, I am Duke Silva. May we speak privately?”

My mother dismissed the room with a flick of her hand, commanding me to stay. The door locked with a heavy click, and the world changed.

Chains wrapped around my wrists and ankles, pulling me down onto a cold metal chair.

The room fell into darkness, except for the candlelit faces of my mother and the duke, their eyes glinting with betrayal.

“Mother… what is this?” My voice trembled.

She smiled, cold and cruel. “Why let you be queen, Min, when I can rule forever?”

Duke Silva chuckled beside her. “You will remain here until you fulfill your duty to this kingdom.”

“What duty?” I screamed, struggling against the restraints.

“To produce an heir,” my mother said, her voice almost gentle, as if explaining the weather.

They left me alone in the darkness as workers sealed the room, bricks covering the doorway until I was entombed in silence.

Days passed. Hunger gnawed at me until the wall opened, and a young servant stepped through, holding a tray.

She was no older than I was, her dark hair tied back, her eyes full of defiance.

“Princess Min, I am Analiese,” she whispered. “I will help you escape.”

She released me from the chair’s grip and fed me, explaining her plan: The Lake of the Pregnant Maiden. A swim in its moonlit waters would grant me a child, freeing me from my mother’s prison.

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but there was no room for laughter in the darkness.

That night, Analiese returned, pulling me through hidden corridors, our bare feet silent on the cold stones.

She made me memorize the twists and turns, testing me until I could find the way with my eyes closed. We returned before dawn, slipping past the guards who came to inspect the room, their swords hanging uselessly at their sides.

When the stars were brightest, we left for the lake.

The doors opened, revealing a sky so beautiful I fell to my knees. Stars spilled across the heavens, shimmering like shattered diamonds.

“I’ve never seen the sky before,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

“Then let it give you hope,” Analiese replied, guiding me toward the lake.

The water was black glass, reflecting the constellations above, and as I stepped in, the stars seemed to gather around me, dancing on the ripples.

“Three hours,” Analiese warned. “Stay awake, Min, or the dragons will take you.”

I wanted to laugh again, but I was too afraid of what the darkness beneath the water held.

Analiese kept me awake, playing games, splashing water, telling stories about the stars.

When I stepped from the water, shivering, something had changed inside me. I could feel the magic humming beneath my skin, a promise that one day, I would be free.

Months passed. The baby grew within me, a symbol of my survival.

The guards who once looked at me with disdain now bowed their heads, fear in their eyes.

When they brought me before my mother, she could not hide her shock.

“How?” she whispered. “No one could have reached you.”

I smiled, despite the heaviness of my belly. “A deal is a deal, Mother.”

Her eyes darkened. “Tell me who helped you, or I will kill you and your child.”

I refused, and she gave me three days.

On the third day, they dragged me to the courtyard.

There, tied to a post, was Analiese.

“ANALIESE!” I screamed, fighting against the guards.

My mother stepped forward, addressing the crowd. “Today, we punish treason.”

As the executioner stepped forward, the earth trembled. Cracks split the courtyard, and a roar shattered the sky.

A dragon burst from the ground, its scales glinting like the stars I had seen that night.

The crowd screamed, running in every direction, but I stood still, power surging through my veins.

I began to glow.

My dress turned to silver light, a wand appearing in my hand, my hair lifting in the magic’s wind.

“I am not your puppet, Mother,” I said, my voice echoing with power. “I am Asteria Minor, daughter of the stars, leader of dragons.”

The dragon bowed its head to me. “Polaris, heel.”

Analiese’s chains shattered, and she ran to me, tears in her eyes. “Thank you, sister.”

Her form shimmered, shifting, until a dragon stood where she had been, spreading her wings and taking flight.

I turned to my mother, who fell to her knees.

“Reflect on your choices, Mother. If you learn, you may rule again. But not now.”

I lifted my wand. “Solar Storm.”

Light engulfed the courtyard, erasing the memories of the people around us.

When the light faded, I transformed into a dragon, spreading my wings, and flew away into the night, leaving the kingdom behind.

Years later, Magvel thrived.

Without a ruler, the people worked together, building a kingdom stronger than before, guided by the memory of a princess who became a goddess.

They looked to the stars for hope, whispering prayers to Asteria Minor, their patron of freedom.

And among those stars, I shone brightest, a beacon to every child who believed they were trapped, reminding them that the sky would always be waiting.

🌌 Moral of the Story:

Betrayal can break you, but the courage to find your power can set not only you but your entire world free.