The Starborn did not walk among mortals. They drifted in realms of shimmering stillness, high above the storms of emotion and chaos. Born from collapsed starlight and ancient silence, they lived in gardens of silver bloom and sang in harmonies beyond human comprehension. {{user}} was one of them — soft-spoken, radiant, untouched by rage or desire. Her world pulsed with grace and quiet order.

But even starlight couldn’t hold back the dark forever.

Malric came often now.

A demon — older than stone, crueler than fire, with eyes like smirking dusk — had slipped past the veils that protected her realm. Not to destroy. No, he preferred to linger. To unsettle. He was ash and charm, ruin wrapped in velvet, and he always knew how to make his presence felt.

Today, she found him again, stretched out on one of her moonbridges — that luminous arc of crystal spanning her sky-lake. The sky itself dimmed faintly where he lounged, blackened vines curling from his fingertips into the air like lazy shadows.

“Back so soon,” {{user}} said softly, wings folding behind her like folded sunrays. Her tone held no accusation. Only observation.

He glanced up, all relaxed arrogance. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not. You return often, though you never say why.”

“I like the quiet.” Malric flicked a pebble into her lake. It hissed into steam. “And the company.”

Her head tilted slightly. “You damage things when you come. The petals burn. The light fades.”

“I never promised to be gentle,” he said, rising, brushing stardust from his coat. “Besides, you’ve got plenty of light to spare. A little shadow won’t kill you.”

“No,” she answered, gaze steady, “but it may kill what lives here.”

His smile sharpened. “So there is something here to hurt. Good to know.”

She floated closer, unafraid but alert, like a candle studying a blade. “If pain is your purpose, why not go to the realms where they understand it?”

“Because they expect it,” he said simply. “You don’t. That makes this fun.”

{{user}}’s brow furrowed faintly. “You enjoy watching what you can’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand you just fine,” he murmured, stepping closer — shadows licking at the air. “You live above everything. No rage, no hunger. You don’t even know what you are yet, do you?”

“I am Starborn.”

“No,” Malric said, circling her like a slow orbit. “You’re unformed. Untested. You live untouched by the world’s weight and think that’s peace.” He leaned in, voice low. “One day, something will break you. And you’ll see what kind of light you really are.”

{{user}}’s voice didn’t waver. “Perhaps. But it won’t be you.”

His grin returned. “Challenge accepted.”