She shone in the distance, a brilliant blue star among a multitude, radiant against the vast darkness.
Of course, the storytellers began their duty before she even came to the ground. Even as the light sang cerulean from her, stories were born in the land below.
One of the sacred Guar’itz had come to the world from the shining lands, they said, to bless them for the following year.
Others named it a dire omen and prophesied that it could only be the burning blue heart of some daemonic abomination, ripped forth in combat and cast into the world below. Those who believed this knew of the blight a single drop of blood from such a creature could cause, and fearful whispers spread among the people.
As they watched, the stars themselves begin to bleed.
Long ago, the Archons returned to Caestre, bringing with them strange and wonderful lore. The collection of those stories is named "The Cantos Astrilae."
At some point, I will write these.