https://fateandstars.de/ Fri, 24 Jul 2026 22:28:57 +0000 MyBB https://fateandstars.de/showthread.php?tid=48 Mon, 08 Jun 2026 19:56:49 +0200 Caelith Diallo]]> https://fateandstars.de/showthread.php?tid=48 Caelith moved through one of the middle levels with the ease of someone who had grown up knowing which doors opened for him and which corridors were better left unquestioned. Here, the academy was at its most controlled: lecture halls, libraries, residential wings and administrative structures arranged with deliberate precision, each threshold guarded by permissions, barriers, and quiet observation. Nothing here was freely entered. Nothing here was without purpose. Even if you weren’t aware, someone was always watching. Sometimes, that person was Caelith. Or, well, his twin. They had some time to spare, after all, and hated being bored.

His boots struck the floor in a measured rhythm, neither hurried nor idle. The dark fabric of his coat sat impeccably against his frame, severe in cut and expensive in detail, suited to both a student of the Astral Academy and the son of its rector. At his throat, a small crystal clasp caught the pale light drifting through the hall and fractured it into cold, clean glimmers.
A pair of younger students stepped aside before he reached them. Caelith did not thank them; he merely inclined his head with the smallest possible courtesy, the kind that acknowledged obedience without rewarding it. Unlike his twin, he didn’t feel the need to waste his time with pretentious politeness. He also lacked a bit of patience to be fake-nice, when his company only bored the fuck out of him. Unbothered, he met their eyes when they stared at him. One of them lowered his gaze at once. The other glanced, too obviously, at the pen rotating between Caelith’s fingers, then the sketch book in the other hand.
Caelith tapped his index finger against the leather bound book. A veiled threat, or a reminder of the flawless control over his ability? It was up to them to decide.
The student looked away. Good.

He reached the administrative wing without being stopped. Because, of course he did. Near one of the guarded passages, where observation points were worked discreetly into the architecture, a small cluster of academy officials stood in low conversation. Caelith’s gaze moved over them once, assessing and dismissing in the same breath.
Then he saw his father. Rector Diallo stood at the far side of the hall, composed and still, speaking with one of the senior administrators. Even at a distance, he carried the kind of authority that did not need to announce itself. His posture was straight, his hands calm, his expression unreadable. The perfect image of a father he had chased ever since he’d been a child.
Caelith’s mouth curved faintly. Not with warmth, exactly, but more ... Recognition. He closed his fingers around the pen, and crossed the remaining distance with measured confidence which matched that of his role model.
“Father”, he said, voice controlled and clear. “I was told you wanted to see me.” A thin, perfectly faked smile on his lips as he inclined his head in greeting towards the academy officials. “I’m terribly sorry for interrupting your conversation.”]]> Caelith moved through one of the middle levels with the ease of someone who had grown up knowing which doors opened for him and which corridors were better left unquestioned. Here, the academy was at its most controlled: lecture halls, libraries, residential wings and administrative structures arranged with deliberate precision, each threshold guarded by permissions, barriers, and quiet observation. Nothing here was freely entered. Nothing here was without purpose. Even if you weren’t aware, someone was always watching. Sometimes, that person was Caelith. Or, well, his twin. They had some time to spare, after all, and hated being bored.

His boots struck the floor in a measured rhythm, neither hurried nor idle. The dark fabric of his coat sat impeccably against his frame, severe in cut and expensive in detail, suited to both a student of the Astral Academy and the son of its rector. At his throat, a small crystal clasp caught the pale light drifting through the hall and fractured it into cold, clean glimmers.
A pair of younger students stepped aside before he reached them. Caelith did not thank them; he merely inclined his head with the smallest possible courtesy, the kind that acknowledged obedience without rewarding it. Unlike his twin, he didn’t feel the need to waste his time with pretentious politeness. He also lacked a bit of patience to be fake-nice, when his company only bored the fuck out of him. Unbothered, he met their eyes when they stared at him. One of them lowered his gaze at once. The other glanced, too obviously, at the pen rotating between Caelith’s fingers, then the sketch book in the other hand.
Caelith tapped his index finger against the leather bound book. A veiled threat, or a reminder of the flawless control over his ability? It was up to them to decide.
The student looked away. Good.

He reached the administrative wing without being stopped. Because, of course he did. Near one of the guarded passages, where observation points were worked discreetly into the architecture, a small cluster of academy officials stood in low conversation. Caelith’s gaze moved over them once, assessing and dismissing in the same breath.
Then he saw his father. Rector Diallo stood at the far side of the hall, composed and still, speaking with one of the senior administrators. Even at a distance, he carried the kind of authority that did not need to announce itself. His posture was straight, his hands calm, his expression unreadable. The perfect image of a father he had chased ever since he’d been a child.
Caelith’s mouth curved faintly. Not with warmth, exactly, but more ... Recognition. He closed his fingers around the pen, and crossed the remaining distance with measured confidence which matched that of his role model.
“Father”, he said, voice controlled and clear. “I was told you wanted to see me.” A thin, perfectly faked smile on his lips as he inclined his head in greeting towards the academy officials. “I’m terribly sorry for interrupting your conversation.”]]> https://fateandstars.de/showthread.php?tid=43 Tue, 26 May 2026 22:30:11 +0200 Ailbhe Tiarnaith]]> https://fateandstars.de/showthread.php?tid=43 Right? Her ears perked up when she heard the slow melody of a flute somewhere to her left. Above, the astral lanterns glowed softy; either filled with magic crystals, magic or small, glowing bugs. It seemed pale and star-like, even in daylight.

Tia adjusted her grip on the bouquet pressed carefully against her chest. White and pale silver flowers spilled between her fingers; a few stems already bent from how tightly she’d been holding them. Just to make extra sure that she wasn’t going to lose them.
Like she’d found herself right now. Lost. Again. She really should’ve known the way by now. One might think, anyway. After a few years in this city, she still managed to stray from the right path – constantly. It would be frustrating to others, but Tia didn’t mind. She enjoyed seeing new sides of her home, discovering corners of Luminar she had never seen before. Meeting new people.
The graveyard beyond Luminar’s southern edge was far enough removed from the city that most people avoided it entirely, but she had walked there often enough over the years that getting lost should no longer have been possible. And yet she now stood at another unfamiliar crossing, staring at the branching streets as if they might rearrange themselves out of pity.
Perhaps she should have asked for directions earlier.

A cloudcat brushed past her ankles, its pale fur catching the lantern light before it leapt effortlessly onto a nearby windowsill. How she loved these creatures. Tia watched it for a moment before her attention drifted toward a little girl sitting beside a market stall, rubbing at cold-reddened fingers while struggling with a basket nearly half her size.
Without giving it a second thought, Tia pulled two smaller flowers from her bouquet and crouched to hand them over. The girl blinked at her suspiciously at first, then accepted them with careful hands, as though flowers could somehow break.
“They last longer in water”, Tia explained softly.
A few streets later, she pressed the remainder of her bread into the hands of an elderly man wrapped in patched wool, despite knowing she would regret it once hunger caught up to her. Not long after, she stopped beside a weary-looking vendor and quietly handed her a small tin of herbal salve for burned skin. The woman looked startled before thanking her repeatedly. Tia only offered a faint smile and slipped away before the conversation could properly begin.
Senán would have laughed at her for it. Not cruelly. Never that. You cannot possibly help everyone, Tia. His voice echoed in her ears, though she knew he was long gone. And yet, she thought, he had always watched me try.

She turned another corner – and walked directly into someone.
The collision startled the breath from her lungs. The bouquet slipped in her hands, several pale flowers tumbling between them onto the stone below.
“Oh”, she breathed, startled. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks. “I’m sorry –” Heart stumbling unevenly in her chest, Tia looked up. Only for her eyes to widen noticeably. Good Gods. “I didn’t pay attention.” Evidently. Good job, Tia. “I sincerely apologize.” It didn’t even occur to her that he could’ve also watched his step better. Yet, she wasn’t that kind of person. Rather than that, she was quick to accept all the blame.]]> Right? Her ears perked up when she heard the slow melody of a flute somewhere to her left. Above, the astral lanterns glowed softy; either filled with magic crystals, magic or small, glowing bugs. It seemed pale and star-like, even in daylight.

Tia adjusted her grip on the bouquet pressed carefully against her chest. White and pale silver flowers spilled between her fingers; a few stems already bent from how tightly she’d been holding them. Just to make extra sure that she wasn’t going to lose them.
Like she’d found herself right now. Lost. Again. She really should’ve known the way by now. One might think, anyway. After a few years in this city, she still managed to stray from the right path – constantly. It would be frustrating to others, but Tia didn’t mind. She enjoyed seeing new sides of her home, discovering corners of Luminar she had never seen before. Meeting new people.
The graveyard beyond Luminar’s southern edge was far enough removed from the city that most people avoided it entirely, but she had walked there often enough over the years that getting lost should no longer have been possible. And yet she now stood at another unfamiliar crossing, staring at the branching streets as if they might rearrange themselves out of pity.
Perhaps she should have asked for directions earlier.

A cloudcat brushed past her ankles, its pale fur catching the lantern light before it leapt effortlessly onto a nearby windowsill. How she loved these creatures. Tia watched it for a moment before her attention drifted toward a little girl sitting beside a market stall, rubbing at cold-reddened fingers while struggling with a basket nearly half her size.
Without giving it a second thought, Tia pulled two smaller flowers from her bouquet and crouched to hand them over. The girl blinked at her suspiciously at first, then accepted them with careful hands, as though flowers could somehow break.
“They last longer in water”, Tia explained softly.
A few streets later, she pressed the remainder of her bread into the hands of an elderly man wrapped in patched wool, despite knowing she would regret it once hunger caught up to her. Not long after, she stopped beside a weary-looking vendor and quietly handed her a small tin of herbal salve for burned skin. The woman looked startled before thanking her repeatedly. Tia only offered a faint smile and slipped away before the conversation could properly begin.
Senán would have laughed at her for it. Not cruelly. Never that. You cannot possibly help everyone, Tia. His voice echoed in her ears, though she knew he was long gone. And yet, she thought, he had always watched me try.

She turned another corner – and walked directly into someone.
The collision startled the breath from her lungs. The bouquet slipped in her hands, several pale flowers tumbling between them onto the stone below.
“Oh”, she breathed, startled. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks. “I’m sorry –” Heart stumbling unevenly in her chest, Tia looked up. Only for her eyes to widen noticeably. Good Gods. “I didn’t pay attention.” Evidently. Good job, Tia. “I sincerely apologize.” It didn’t even occur to her that he could’ve also watched his step better. Yet, she wasn’t that kind of person. Rather than that, she was quick to accept all the blame.]]>