The Heartless Astral

While my sister consummated her marriage with my husband, I lost the child in my womb as my elder brother locked me in the woodshed.

My mother cheerfully carried two cups of celebratory wine to the bridal chamber, while my father reverently lit scented candles meant to stir passion.

As the sounds of intimacy rose and fell from the room, the whole family sighed in relief. Only I sat in the woodshed, watching the pool of blood beneath me grow larger and laughing until tears streamed down my face.

"I want to return to the Astral Sanctuary," I cried.

I was not an ordinary mortal but an Astral Maiden undergoing a trial.

My descent had brought me to the Earl's residence, a family on the verge of ruin, where I became the eldest daughter—a title as useless as dust.

Seraphine, the Mother of Heavens, pitied my suffering in the mortal world and allowed me to awaken half my astral power in a dream.

When my father, Leopold Ashthorn, had his career sabotaged by Estateins and was left teetering on the brink of ruin, I used a portion of my power to rewrite fate. The Earl's family cast off its shame and rose to prominence as a Marquisate.

When my mother, Fiona Ashthorn, spent years bedridden and blind from endless tears, clinging to life in despair, I used another portion of my power to restore her health and sight. She became the envy of the capital, a dazzling noblewoman admired by all.

When my elder brother, Gareth Ashthorn, was born with a lame leg and despaired over his inability to serve the country, I used a third portion of my power to heal him. He rose to fame as a celebrated general.

My husband, Marcus Blackwell, was simpleminded and repeatedly failed the national exams, becoming a laughingstock. I used a fourth portion of my power to grant him the Heart of Astral Clarity.

With its brilliance, he topped the national exams and became the top scholar of his year.

I was the family's treasure, their beacon of fortune. They adored, cherished, and placed me on a pedestal.

That changed when my parents found my sister, Juliana Ashthorn.

Sent away during the family's fall from grace in their days as Earls, she had grown up in exile, her face disfigured by bandits. Envious of my beauty, she knelt before me, pleading for the last portion of my astral power to restore her face.

But that last portion of astral power was my lifeline. Without it, I could never return to the Astral Sanctuary.

My parents and brother wept bitterly, their cries heart-wrenching, as they questioned how I could still think of leaving them. They insisted they could not bear to lose me as part of their family.

My husband swore on the heavens that if I became mortal, he would love and cherish me for the rest of his life, choosing love over my immortality.

Believing their words, I relented. I used my final portion of astral power to give my sister a face so beautiful it could topple kingdoms. She became renowned as the most beautiful woman in the land.

Stripped of my power, I became an ordinary mortal, useless to them.

Then my sister claimed she, too, had awakened astral power. She promised she could grant our father a higher position, make our mother healthier, bring our brother greater glory, and pave an even brighter path for my husband.

The family's affection shifted to her entirely, while their treatment of me grew increasingly cold and dismissive.

When my sister fell gravely ill, she accused me of cursing her. She demanded that my unborn child be used as medicine to cure her.

My whole family tied me down, ignoring my screams, and forcibly cut the unborn child from my womb.

My sister then claimed that to ensure the family's prosperity, she had to marry my husband, the man blessed with the Heart of Astral Clarity, as only he could continue the miracles I had once bestowed upon them.

The entire family locked me in the woodshed, fearing I might disrupt the wedding between my husband and my sister.

But what they did not know was that I no longer cared.

In three days, I would be gone, free to return home to the Astral Sanctuary.