I shall be frank with you: I am not of this earth. I come from a faraway place, too far and too foreign for me to explain about it all. Simply take my word for it.


I was born when Sklar the Star Guardian passed away. The Elders, once they had fed Sklar's body to the cold fire of a shooting star, entered the nursery to immediately seek out the Star Guardian's spirit inside of a newborn child. I immediately stood out from the rest of the pups, for I had opened my eyes fully before they did. My eyes were large and pale, the blue almost translucent, and the Elders knew the spirit had chosen my body as its vessel. Besides, I cried the loudest in the dim den, and I had caught their attention the moment they stepped into the gloom. And they knew I was it.

As is tradition, the new Star Guardian is never announced once discovered until he or she turns of a certain age. This age is never specific, yet it is apparent. The Elders decide when to make the announcement, and for me, the announcement came too soon.

I had always been the perfect student, always on time and always on task. I was never distracted, never objective of my identity. I excelled in my studies and progressed rather quickly, faster than the Elders expected. Once I reached a mature age, I took on full responsibility of my title.




We believe our ancestors and the spirits of the universe inhabit the stars, and one particular spirit keeps the cosmos in balance. This spirit guides all souls into the stars and guards those residing in the celestial canopy. This spirit, however, must reside inside a living creature, and many millenia ago, it chose my people as its vessel. For years it has resided many bodies, and each creature fortunate enough to be the Star Guardian's mortal form would be regarded as both mortal and immortal: its body only temporary, its soul to live forever.

And for the final years of my youth I enjoyed my life. I had many powers: levitation, understanding the thoughts of the stars, and the beautiful feeling of connecting with the cosmos. But my powers came with a price: I could not take on a mate, for the spirit did not need to reproduce, and thus, the Star Guardian was forbidden to ever entangle themselves in a private life with a spouse and children.

I learned this fact all too late, for I had reached an age when new emotions spark inside of the soul and assume full control of the heart and mind. Though I lived a rather seclusive lifestyle, I never lost the opportunity to mingle with my fellow youth. After each lesson I received, I'd head over to my friends. And it is at this age when my troubles began.

My instructor and the Elders warned me of the actions I displayed towards Noite, a friend of mine. They had said I became too close to him, or rather we had become too close to each other. They began to limit my free time, yet with every limit my urge to see Noite grew and grew. One day, the Elders simply prohibited us to ever come near one another, and it was this new ban that sparked rebellion in me.

I skipped a lesson one day and hid among the stardust, my actions careful and calculated. I had met with Noite the previous night and instructed him to meet me by the nursery after nightfall. I saw him, wandering around and clearly puzzled. I descended from the sky and landed at his feet, a sullen yet genuine smile on my face.

And it was then that my instructor found me--there, in the dead of night with Noite, a forbidden friendship and love taking place before his very eyes. He called for my Elders, alerted my people, and it was then that I said goodbye and flew up into the sky and sheltered myself on a streaking comet. My final glimpse of my world was of Noite looking up into the sky and witnessing the comet flicker, and of him widening his eyes in surprise as he saw the blue speck of my body forever disappear into the cosmos' eternal night.




Time is strange. I don't remember anything after my departure, only turbulence and pain.

I woke up in a strange place, so alien yet strikingly familiar. For a moment I could have sworn that I've landed back onto my world, but the drone and frightening sounds of a nearby settlement unnerved me and coaxed me out of the forest I had crashed in.

I saw my first city: large, inspiring, and almost beautiful, despite its pollution. A coastal town situated by the sea, spanning the bay as far as my eyes could tell. The city was split into two halves: One half, the smaller one, it lay on the northern coast--I had landed in the groves of pines at the bottom of the northern cliffs. The other side, towards the south, the more imposing and larger of the two. Connecting this organism of concrete was a red bridge, large and magnificent. And beyond the limits of this strange world was the ocean, such a vast mass of azure waters glistened in the pale, misty sun. Truly I was awed.

My first look at humans unnerved me. They seemed so strange, pale and hairless, though not all humans I saw had fit that description. Their streets were lively, awfully jovial and colorful. Mechanical contraptions honked and screeched about in their lines, sounds of bells caught my attention, and music drifted from an opening in a nearby building. And it was this music, so somber yet precious, that caused me to hassle my way up a metal ladder and hover about the window, my eyes peeping into the home.

A girl, comparably younger than the life forms I had seen below, sat on her bedding in what appeared to be her den. A wooden instrument lay on her lap and her lithe, olive fingers lightly rubbed its strings with a damp cloth. She went about her work with such care and delicacy, and it was this show of affection towards this non-living thing that reminded me of the mother I never had. Suddenly she position the contraption between her arms; one hand lay on the round part of the instrument and the other placed itself on the longer part. And she began to play.

Her music felt so alien and so ethereal, reminded me of my home, now millions and millions of lightyears away. I sighed; she glanced up, her music stopping abruptly; I stared, frightened; and she laughed, her smile beckoning me into her home. And so I met Amy.


She nursed me. Befriended me. Adopted me as her own.




Steinkalte. What is Steinkalte? The group of boys that changed my life. And all because I had to accompany another refugee on one of her excursions...

Amy's gentle music on her guitar introduced me to her kind's auditory art form. The crispy tinging and clanging of her guitar strings enchanted me so and elicited nostalgic feelings from deep within. Yet as much as she enjoyed playing for me, she found joy in allowing others to play for her. She was partial to a musical group called Steinkalte. They played guitars too, but of a different, more hostile and loud kind. At the time she had taken in another stray from the streets, a lone and sullen girl by the name of Jenobi. Her hooded eyes, though they regarded everyone with scorn and distaste, would soften and even glisten whenever her ears caught sound of the rough electric melodies that blasted from Amy's radio. She grew to love the band's music and even loosened up slightly, and she became a friend to me. It was one spring day that Steinkalte visited out city by the sea, and at the constant prattling and whining on Jenobi's part, I agreed to accompany her to their concert.

I never really fancied their music, despite their irrefutable talent. Yet as a way to bond even further with the reclusive girl I had agreed to go, and it was on our way to the concert that we--or I--met my fate. According to Jenobi, it is a fan's dream to see their fellow celebrity out in the open and out of a formal setting, and even rarer still when they aren't surrounded by paparazzi or other crazy fans. Yet that's exactly what we found, the entire musical ensemble dragging their equipment down the street and singing and playing without a care.

Jeonbi hurdled herself across the street to introduce herself and I lumbered behind, my tail flicking with impatience. I remember the event so clearly now that I know that such meeting would have a tremendous effect on my life. The boys were a mellow bunch as they greeted my crazed friend and introduced themselves without fear or impatience. They even offered us a VIP pass and an invitation to their after party, and of course Jenobi was quick to agree. I did as well, for the sake of her sanity, and once the concert came to a finish we sneaked backstage and clambered into their tour bus.

Out of all the fellows there was one lad that clearly stuck out from the others, both physically and mentally--his name was Verruckter, or Verr. He was a quiet thing, just sitting there and nodding whenever his input was asked for. I remember him for making gruff, guttural sounds instead of vocalizing, and I never could make myself believe that Verr was the singer in his band.