0 – Prologue
Countless tales of heroes are told.
They say that no matter where you stand, if you look up at the vast night sky, you’ll see constellations. And those constellations are the traces of heroes who raced across this land, their lives etched in the stars.
That was a story that was half true and half false.
In reality, the heroes who accomplished great deeds inscribe their own stars in the night sky, becoming transcendental beings known as constellations. In that sense, the phrase “constellations are the lives of heroes” was a true story.
So, where is the incorrect part?
It lies in the statement, “no matter where you stand, if you look up at the sky, you’ll see constellations.” I lifted my head and looked at the sky. More accurately, I looked at the ceiling of the city where I had lived my entire life, considering it the sky.
What illuminated my pupils was not the vast night sky, and the brilliantly shining constellations were nowhere to be found.
Thick smoke. Countless ores precariously embedded in the ceiling. Only the artificial light created by these ores illuminated my pupils. There were no skies or constellations in this city.
“Well, that’s to be expected.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips.
Stars in a city like this? Unlikely.
…Underground city, Artman.
A place that rejected even the sunlight, the one that should illuminate everything equally. A place plunged into darkness day and night due to the absence of the sun. A city dependent on artificial light through ores because the sun refused to rise.
People from the upper district referred to this place in a certain way.
The landfill.
A place where discarded garbage is buried.
2.
Underground city, Artman.
The residents of this city were generally divided into two categories based on the following criteria.
Those expelled from the upper district.
Children born from the unions of those expelled.
I belonged to the latter.
It meant that, despite committing no particular crime, I was destined to live my entire life in this city. Of course, this was just my perspective; the thoughts of people from the upper district seemed different.
A child born from mingling trash must naturally be trash. Since they were born, they polluted the world, making their very existence a sin.
That was the average mindset of the upper district, a common attitude toward this city. According to their logic, I was a sinner from birth, condemned to rot in this city for a lifetime.
“…How unfortunate.”
“Pity for the young one.”
Many sympathized with me. However, their sympathy was far from comforting. I didn’t know what the outside world was like in the first place.
The warm sun they talked about.
The vast, green meadows.
The blue sea that stretches beyond the horizon.
I had never seen them, and even imagining what they looked like seemed impossible. It’s a difficult thing to harbor longing for the impossible, even in one’s mind. So, to be honest, I had little interest in the outside world.
Just one thing.
If there was something I cared about…
“Stars.”
I muttered unconsciously.
“Stars, constellations, heroes.”
I reached out and grabbed a fairy tale book.
When I was very young, I happened to get my hands on a fairy tale book titled “The Saga of Arthur.” I unfolded the worn-out fairy tale book, having read it several times before.
“The Saga of Arthur” is a heroic tale.
It narrates the life of a hero who had been active centuries ago. In the story, Arthur pulled the sword stuck in a rock, a sword that no one else could pull, and crossed the continent with just a single sword.
As a knight. And as a hero.
Arthur, who saved numerous people and defeated countless demons, became a constellation at the end of his journey. The thirteen achievements Arthur accumulated became stars engraved in the night sky.
“Constellations.”
I opened the last page of the fairy tale book.
It was the page I had seen the most. It featured an illustration of Arthur’s constellation. I silently gazed at the constellation that filled one side of the paper.
Thirteen stars.
A constellation shaped like a sword, with stars connected to form it.
As I gazed at the constellation, a brief inscription next to the illustration caught my eye.
“Wherever you stand on this land.”
“If you look up at the sky, you will see the stars.”
I lifted my head and looked at the sky.
Of course, there were no stars to be seen.
“You can’t see them, damn birds.”
A sigh escaped my lips. Yes, I had no interest in anything else in the outside world, but… just one thing. I wanted to see that constellation with my own eyes.
I don’t know why.
I just wanted to see the stars.
It was simple curiosity, perhaps a fantasy. After all, it would be nothing more than an unattainable dream.
“Life.”
Looking up at the sky, I suddenly had a thought.
Come to think of it, there was a saying like that. Don’t insult the stars while looking up at the sky. The stars can hear your voice as long as you’re looking at them, no matter where you are.
“But what if I can’t see any stars? Will it still be considered an insult?”
In my mind, recalling Arthur’s constellation, I raised my middle finger towards the sky. Along with the gesture, I let out a light curse. A provocation that Arthur couldn’t ignore, if he happened to hear it.
1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds… like that, for a minute.
Naturally, no divine punishment fell. Well, that’s how it goes. I sighed and stood up from my seat. There was a lot to do today.
“Ugh.”
I half-hoped for divine retribution. It would have been better than living this boring life.
3.
The boy got up and, after a moment.
Above the underground city of Artman, higher than the towering city built there, a constellation in the vast night sky sparkled. It wasn’t the Arthur’s constellation that the boy had seen in a fairy tale.
Not a constellation made up of twelve stars.
But a constellation, like a calm lake, guarding its side.
A serene lake of stars where the king, deep in slumber, could comfortably close his eyes. The constellation that had always been calm unexpectedly scattered a brilliant light. In a way, it resembled the anger of the stars.
Constellation, the Staff of Selection.
The constellation that accompanied Arthur’s journey from beginning to end.
Merlin, the magician of the lake.
The constellation of Merlin, taking the form of a lake, surged intensely. Her true form, nestled deep within the constellation, looked down at the earth with open eyes. In Merlin’s ear, the voice of a presumptuous boy echoed.
Arthur, you’re just a lucky guy born in the right era.
If you were born in this era, you would have been nothing.
Feeling stubborn? Want to argue back?
Then come and experience some divine punishment.
It was an incredibly offensive remark, with no clear idea of where to start or how to respond. Merlin felt the back of her neck warming for the first time in a while.
“Wow.”
Merlin chuckled and swept her hair back with a mock smile. Her snowy-white hair waved like ripples along her slender fingers.
“Who’s this crazy guy?”
A glint of bloodshot appeared in Merlin’s eyes.