Why Did The Protagonist In 'Hidden Star' Leave Their Home?

In 'Hidden Star', the protagonist's departure from home stems from a brutal clash between duty and personal trauma. Their family was part of a secretive guild guarding celestial artifacts, but when a rival faction slaughtered their parents for a powerful relic, survival meant fleeing. The protagonist couldn't stay—not after witnessing their mother’s last act was embedding a fragment of the artifact into their body. Now hunted, they leave to unravel the relic’s mysteries while evading assassins. The journey isn’t just about revenge; it’s a desperate bid to control the cosmic power threatening to consume them from within. The streets they once called home became a death trap, forcing them into the shadows where allies are scarce and every stranger could be a blade in the dark.

The protagonist’s exit from home in 'Hidden Star' is layered with political intrigue and self-discovery. Initially, it seems like a simple escape from arranged marriage—until you peel back the layers. Their fiancé was actually a spy for the Imperial Court, tasked with monitoring the family’s connection to forbidden astral magic. When the protagonist accidentally activated an ancient telescope that revealed corrupt nobles manipulating star prophecies, they became a liability.

Exile wasn’t optional. The Court issued a silent execution order, and their own uncle leaked their whereabouts to bounty hunters. What fascinates me is how the author flips the 'chosen one' trope—the protagonist isn’t destined to save the world; they’re running because the world isn’t worth saving yet. Their departure mirrors celestial navigation: sometimes you must lose sight of the shore to find new constellations. Along the way, they befriend a rogue astronomer who teaches them to reinterpret fate itself, turning flight into rebellion.

What drove the protagonist away in 'Hidden Star' wasn’t just external danger—it was the crushing weight of unrealized potential. Their homeland revered star singers, artists whose voices could manifest constellations. But the protagonist’s voice remained dormant, branding them a failure. When a comet shower gifted them erratic bursts of power (shattering windows one night, healing wounds the next), the temple elders labeled them a cursed outlier.

Leaving was an act of defiance. The protagonist stole a starhorse—a creature woven from nebulas—and rode beyond the aurora curtain where laws of gravity differ. Here, their unstable abilities flourish. The twist? Their 'curse' was actually a rare mutation allowing adaptation to alien atmospheres. Now they trade melodies with interstellar merchants, collecting sonic fragments to compose a song that might redefine their culture’s entire cosmology. Sometimes abandonment isn’t exile—it’s the universe saying your stage lies elsewhere.