Appointed Starseer, Aberrant Puppeteer

Illadin's dress shoes echoed as he stepped along the ancient tiles of Midnight Hollow, he tilted his gaze upwards towards the ash raining from the sky, remains of his nephew falling from an unseen point in the sky.

"You are proof, nephew. Proof of my woven fate." He spoke to nobody, kneeling down on the grass in front of the old mausoleum. He let a flake of ash fall on his hand as he muttered something in old Elvish, a mystic chant.

"Master of reflections. Last of the Mirai. Let me show you true godhood." As his chant finished the world around him cracked and he felt a sharp pain along his head, like needles poking at his scalp. His stomach churned as he felt nauseous, the air smelled rancid. It smelled like burning sugar.

A figure appeared before him, a being of four faces though only one was facing him. It towered over Illadin even after he stood up to face the being. It spoke with four separate voices like a choir, culminate in a soft and almost ethereal cadence.

"Eternal One, what have you come to show us." The beings mouth did not move as it spoke, its facial expressions remained stagnant.

Illadin raises his hand to draw the creatures attention upwards to the rain of ash. "Proof of your and my theories, O' Ancient One, his fate was not to die here and yet it happened, but even with this setback he has been given a second chance to complete what he was destined to."

The being tilted its back face upwards to look up at the sky. The air around Illadin began to smell once more as the creature spoke. He hated the smell. "Eternal Starseer, you unlike any others are able to translate the empty void of space."

Illadin felt a sense of pride as the eldritch humanoid in front of him shifted the surrounding space into stars, the stench of burning sugar grew to the point he could no longer keep his demeanor straight. He hated the smell.

"A fateless world may prove to further ou-" His words were cut short by an ethereal pain that wrapped around him. The creature spoke up again.

"The creatures within the space above should have spoken to you by now, Starseer. You are slow in your duties."

Illadin winced as the faces stopped looking up at the stars and back down at him. "I will hasten the pace, Judge."

The being disappeared as the landscape around Illadin returned to normal. He rubbed at his nose, the stagnant smell of burned sugar still around him. He spat on the floor the Judge was standing on. His mind immediately ran the conversation over again. If the Judge was truly correct, and there were gods out in the Stars, they would have spoken to him. They do not exist, they did not speak to anyone. He thought of the Judge again and his perversion of the magic he held dear and he...

...He hated that smell.