All The Glimmering Stars: A Novel Novels & Stories

The Codex umbra as he went on to explain to me materializes in his hands. I just stood there gawking and trying to protect my eyes at the same time. Its cover was adorned with glittering, gemstone-like symbols and markings that seemed to shift and glow in the light. The book emitted a faint, pulsating glow as if it contained the essence of the very night stars. “He's happy to see you,” Rune interpreted. “Oh,” I said shocked at the twist in the event, “Hello there” I waved “Let's get started” Rune continued after the whole display of lights and pixie dust, if what I saw was pixie dust.

What was happening? Before she could react, a brilliant, golden light erupted from the book's spine, flooding the room with warmth and brightness. The air around her shimmered, filled with soft, glowing particles that floated like stars in the night. Selene gasped, her breath catching as the light intensified. Its glow was so powerful that it forced her to squint.

And in the center of this fading potential, we found the leak. It wasn't a creature or a machine. It was a Glimmer. A small, shimmering, beautiful tear in the fabric of maybe. And through it, we could see… another reality. One of blinding, hyper-real clarity. Colors so vibrant they hurt. Details so sharp they seemed to cut. Every pebble on its ground was a unique, epic saga. Every mote of dust held a tragic sonnet. It was a reality of too much story. And it was sucking our reality’s narrative potential dry, using the Glimmer as a siphon.

But the second I did, it breathed. The book didn’t open. It unfolded. The cover split open in silence, pages spilling like silk, the air humming as the magic within adjusted to me. Not the other way around. I froze. There was no resistance. No permission asked. Just acceptance. Like the book had been waiting. The ink inside shifted before my eyes, words scrawling themselves across the first page in ink that shimmered between black and violet: To the One Who Was Hidden. To the One the Stars Remember.

The stars did not fall with noise or fire. Instead, they drifted, soft as ash, slow as regret, blanketing the skies above Sanctum for three nights and three days. Each flake glimmered, ephemeral, settling on rooftops, the backs of silent wolves, and the palms of children who dared to reach for them. The city stilled beneath this celestial hush, the air trembling not with fear or awe, but with the sense that an ancient story had finally run out of pages.

She let herself ease into it, loosening her grip, allowing herself to take in the breathtaking sight of the stars so clear and bright against the vast darkness. But the moment of wonder was fleeting. Just as she was beginning to enjoy the flight, the golden glow of firelight appeared on the horizon, flickering like stars fallen to earth. A sprawling city stretched before them, its high stone walls standing sentinel against the desert beyond. It was unlike anything she had ever seen—vast, intricate, alive. The Landing, with its towering rock formation and grand halls, was nothing compared to this.

They had their song back, not in the air, but in their blood. Elara held a fruit that was shaped like a swirling spiral. Her eyes were closed, a serene smile on her face. "It's the Glimmerfall," she whispered. "Not just the story of it, but the feeling. The tiredness. The hope. The joy of its change. It's all here."

Incidental. Electric. Her shoulder grazed his arm, and the shock rippled through her like a mistake she’d already made once too often. She didn’t look back. Behind her, Alaric didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. That night, the bell rang at precisely ten. Lights-out. Silence enforced by more than rules. Nyx lay awake, staring at the ceiling as moonlight spilled through the tall windows of her assigned room. Her roommate slept peacefully, unaware that Nyx’s pulse hadn’t slowed since morning.

"Go ahead, little one. I’ll just clean the slobber off later.” The sky was clear of snow clouds and painted a dusky periwinkle color. The innumerable stars glittered across that canvas, bright and colorful. Faline stared up and up, taking in as much detail as she possibly could. Since she lost her farfetched sight, Faline had decided to burn these images into her memory as best she could.

Reese pulled again, almost dragged me away from the stairs and led me through the underground corridor. There were no windows down here, just an old ventilation system that stuttered and supplied the air with oxygen. The part was broken so often that the temperatures down here were mostly sauna-like, but at the moment I didn't feel anything. My hands felt numb. My whole body felt numb. Not even Reese's presence could change that at the moment. Why? Why did something like this have to happen now, of all times, when my life was finally going on in a semi-regulated manner? Why couldn't I just lock the past in some dark hole so it could never bother me again? I just didn't get it.