Chapter 1: The Starless Hunter

The brass steam pipes hissed overhead as Atlas Stone shuffled forward in the registration line, trying not to stare at the spectacle around him. The Hunter Exam Center towered above them—a massive pagoda-style building with copper-plated roofs and mechanical star-charts rotating endlessly around its peak. Steam vented from dozens of outlets, creating a perpetual mist that caught the morning sunlight.

"Next!" called the registrar, her voice echoing through a speaking tube that snaked along the wooden beams.

Atlas watched the candidate in front of him step up to the registration desk. The young man casually raised his hand, and flames danced between his fingers—Leo Minor, probably. The registrar's steam-powered constellation detector clicked and whirred, confirming the star power before printing out an entry badge with a satisfied clank.

"Constellation verified. Proceed to the examination hall."

Atlas's stomach churned. His turn was next.

Behind him, he could hear other candidates discussing their abilities. "I've got Aquila—wind manipulation. Perfect for aerial combat." "Perseus here, shield generation. My whole family's got defensive constellations." "Ursa Major, obviously. My strength rivals most Star Wardens already."

Each boast felt like a needle in his chest. Atlas unconsciously touched the small pendant around his neck—his father's hunter insignia, the only thing left of Commander Theron Stone. The brass was worn smooth from years of worried fidgeting.

Dad would have walked in here with confidence, Atlas thought. The first Star Warden from Thornwick Village. And here I am, his starless son.

"Next!"

Atlas stepped forward, his wooden sandals clicking against the mechanical floor plates. The registrar looked up from her steam-powered ledger, and he caught the exact moment her expression shifted from professional courtesy to poorly concealed pity.

"Name and territory of origin?"

"Atlas Stone. Thornwick Village." His voice came out steadier than he felt.

The registrar's eyebrows rose slightly. "Stone? Any relation to Commander Theron Stone?"

"He was my father." The words tasted bitter.

"I see." She gestured toward the constellation detector—a complex array of brass lenses and steam gauges designed to identify and measure star power. "Please activate your constellation ability."

This was it. The moment Atlas had been dreading for months.

He raised his hand, willing something to happen. Fire, wind, lightning—anything. The detector's gauges remained motionless. Its steam pressure stayed constant. The brass lenses showed nothing but his empty palm.

Silence stretched between them.

"Perhaps you're nervous?" the registrar suggested gently. "Sometimes that affects manifestation. Try again."

Atlas closed his eyes, concentrating harder than he ever had in his life. He thought about his father's sacrifice, about Castor's incredible fire abilities, about everyone in Thornwick who believed he'd carry on the Stone family legacy.

Nothing.

When he opened his eyes, the detector's readings were still flat. Behind him, he heard whispers starting.

"Is that really Theron Stone's son?"

"Poor kid. Must be starless."

"How did he even get permission to take the exam?"

The registrar's voice became almost motherly. "Son, I have to ask—are you certain you caught a star during a fall? The examination is extremely dangerous for non-star users."

Atlas felt heat rise in his cheeks, but not from any constellation power. "I'm certain. I want to be a hunter like my father."

She studied his face for a long moment, then sighed. "Your determination is admirable, but—"

"Please." The word came out more desperate than he'd intended. "I know what everyone thinks. But I have to try. I have to protect people like he did."

The registrar glanced at the growing line behind him, then at his father's insignia hanging from his neck. Finally, she reached for a blank badge and fed it into her printing machine.

"Very well. But Atlas Stone—promise me you'll withdraw if it becomes too dangerous. Your father wouldn't want you to die trying to prove something."

The machine clanked and produced his badge: ATLAS STONE - THORNWICK VILLAGE - CONSTELLATION: UNVERIFIED

As he pinned the badge to his jacket, Atlas caught sight of familiar red hair across the examination hall. Castor Blaze stood among a group of obviously powerful candidates, his Leo Major constellation making the air shimmer with heat distortion. When their eyes met, Castor's face twisted with something between joy and pain.

His childhood friend started toward him, but Atlas quickly turned away and pushed into the crowd. He couldn't bear Castor's pity—not today.

I'll show them, Atlas thought, gripping his badge tightly. I'll show everyone that being starless doesn't mean being powerless.

He had no idea how prophetic those words would prove to be.