A fallen star. Mages and witches. A girl with attitude. This can only mean fantasy trouble...
A golden teardrop glistened momentarily in the sky before the molten fire cascaded down to the ruins of a town. Strewn like litter, rubble decorated the stony ground, what remained of a once-thriving society of man, where soldiers had worked with carpenters, and where artistry had been as valued as manual labour. The peace had not lasted long, as, tormented by another king, the town had become factions, and the factions had driven each other away, away to the safety of lands beyond the invisible border-line. As kin who had remained grew old and were claimed by death, the ancient town began to fade away, its buildings physically disintegrating when there was nobody to rebuild then.
That time had passed by long ago, and the deserted place had longed for a glow to warm its standing relics; and when the glow came, it clasped the secret right into its heart. However, even though this secret could no long keep her place in the sky, she was not to be confined to one town of mankind, and though dazed by the fall, she was determined to make her way.
To a casual onlooker, not that there were many around this place that lingered on in the middle of nowhere, the beam of brightest light would have just been a natural-occurring phenomena, a 'shooting star', or, in the main tongue of the hilly land, an 'astra binodromos'; but to those few who knew about such things, be they mages, witches, or learned scholars, the fallen globule of gold was taking part in a moment of great power, a seldom-seen transaction of one century into another.
When the radiance had stopped her throbbing, climbing up from the ashes of what once might have been a churchyard, she surveyed her surroundings with care. Though she had been careful to plan her inevitable descent to place her somewhere unknown, this glistening woman, dressed in nothing but the thinnest scrap of midnight-material, knew her way was blocked by villains and scientists whose ways were not all holy. No god could protect her, for she knew of no god, and her existence in the sky had been painfully precise, lonely to truest of deliberators. That was why she had had to fall, to survive and to help other live on as part of a prophecy woven into the very seams of time, but mankind was filled with tricksters; so, her path was to be an uneasy one.
After all, as the fading society knew well, a falling star must always be caught.