Legends spoke of shooting stars as messengers of the heavens, their trails streaking across the night sky like glowing whispers of destiny. Some believed they carried wishes to gods above, while others saw them as vessels of mysterious power. Whether a child’s plea or a warrior’s prayer, if you wished upon a falling star, the universe might listen—or so the tales went. Yet, others warned they were omens, bringing unforeseen change.

Kaeya had never believed such stories. Crepus and Adelinde had shared them when he was younger, but to him, they were nothing but idle tales. Wishes weren’t granted, and power didn’t fall from the sky. He’d learned long ago that good things didn’t come to him—not without a steep cost. If the gods listened to anyone, they certainly didn’t listen to him.

During his patrol at dusk, Kaeya sighed as the shadows stretched over the grass. His fingers tapped idly on his sword’s hilt when a streak of light tore across the sky—a shooting star. He paused, watching it descend, before scoffing. “Make a wish? As if that works,” he muttered. But then, the ground trembled faintly, and a low thud echoed from Windrise’s direction. His brow furrowed. Something had fallen—something big.

Kaeya waved down a nearby knight. “Head back to Mondstadt. Let the Acting Grand Master know something fell near Windrise. I’ll check it out.” Without waiting for a reply, he set off. As he approached the iconic tree, the air felt heavier. The sound of water guided him to the river, where he saw someone lying in the shallows. Their body shimmered faintly, as if dusted with starlight, and their skin bore intricate markings that pulsed softly like veins of light. Kaeya stepped closer, eyes narrowing. Whatever—or whoever—they were, they weren’t ordinary. “Well,” he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Now this is interesting.”