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Birth of a Star

Summary:

Non nobis solum nati sumus.

(Not for ourselves alone are we born.)

 

In this universe, Elio begins his greatest script by placing, at Kafka’s feet, the body of a fallen star.

Gray-haired, golden eyes—a body without a soul, a beating heart that pumped blood but not emotion. Elio gives Kafka a lifeless husk of a being and tells her, stars fall from the sky to become something greater and this one will be the greatest yet—

In this universe, Kafka’s skill is in the blade—in the physical, in the fight, in the aching of muscles after battle and the grip of guns against her palms. She’s never raised anyone before but she can surely teach a star how to fight. Surely she can teach a star how to survive.

But how to live? How to feel? What is humanity to Kafka’s own unflinching resolve? How could Kafka teach something that she, herself, does not understand?

 

or, the events of Honkai Star Rail with a much more battle-honed Stelle, brutally efficient in her combat, with unflinching resolve that she learned from a lady she yearns to remember (because the Stellaron allowed her a single wish and she wished for the humanity to be Kafka’s child again.)

Chapter 1: nulla; ante initium

Summary:

(zero. before the beginning)

9/25/24 - edited and proofread with the help of Szept, thank you!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Lifeless eyes gaze at Kafka, the golden specks of light within them following her every move as the woman holds out clothes next to the Star. This blouse is too much, Kafka muses, setting the article of clothing aside and picking up another. This one is too bright, and that one is put aside too. The Star continues to stare, eyes as empty as they’ve been from the very  beginning. Kafka thinks she would have been unnerved if she knew what that feeling was.

 

Your fate is to be gazed upon by a Star. The Star will breathe – you will fear. Destiny’s will is that erosion takes both water and stone. All will be as it is – the future is for the star to decide, and for you to begin.

 

Kafka’s memory of Elio’s words flow delicately as she observes the Star with a deepened curiosity. There is a depth to her gaze that Kafka notes as inhuman; like the vast emptiness of space decorated with the glitter of stars. It’s the unknown of the void between galaxies – it’s the dull shine of a doll’s eyes. Ever since Elio handed the Star over to her, almost all she had done was stare. Kafka picks up another blouse to hold it against her chest. Ah, she thinks, now we’re getting somewhere. Gilded eyes widen slightly at the small smile curving Kafka’s lips.

 

The woman turns around to pull clothes out of a box when she feels a weak tug on her coat.

 

“Kaf..ka,” The Star speaks.

 

“Yes?” She turns, a skirt and jacket draped over her arm.

 

“You… smile.” The Star raises her fingers to touch her own lips, her eyes gazing at her, lifeless. Kafka could have mistaken her for dead if she didn’t know better, didn’t know that this Star was born to hold a Stellaron in four years, two months, and eleven days. Kafka could hear echoes of Elio reverberating in her mind. Stars don’t understand the complexities of living organisms, she remembers him saying, Stars are powerful, but there is a cost–

 

“Yes, dear, I did smile.” Kafka’s eyes soften. She raises a hand and gently strokes her hair. The Star is quiet for a moment, then two, then five, her golden eyes almost inquisitive. For the power of a Star comes a price, remember this: what is emotion to a Star that is suspended alone in the depths of space?

 

“...How…do you smile?” And the Star gazes upon Kafka.



Notes:

In the end, she dresses the Star in a white blouse complemented by a black skirt and a jacket with golden accents. She thinks it’s beautiful – it highlights the eyes always staring, empty like the sky.