The Fallen Star is the Young King’s Glory
“His father was a great King who had ushered in the end of a war in another world”—though that was what Kaname had been told growing up, he’d thought the story was simply his mother’s wild daydream until one day he woke up within that other world’s kingdom. Its current state, however, was different from the stories his mother had told. The fighting had not ended, his father was only a child, and the kingdom was on the verge of destruction. It seemed that he had somehow gone back in time by thirty years. Fearing that history would change if the situation remained like this, Kaname vowed to guide the boy king’s country to victory in order to protect the future where his parents met and he was born, and to protect the life of the person he loves.
This is a story I first saw on Wisteria Translations. It’s a plot-driven multi-arc fantasy BL story, and I thought it looked really interesting. This is an excerpt from the prologue, which I translated to test my comprehension and understanding. I’m hoping to contact the author to obtain permission to translate this story as part of my learning!
The Night the Star Fell
To the east are cherished flowers—
Such are the young king’s hope
To the south are walls which tower—
Such are the young king’s guard
To the north are unfreezing fires—
Such are the young king’s sage
To the west is a fallen star—
Such is the young king’s glory
The air in the room shifted from the draft of a temperate breeze.
He must have dozed off after leaving the window open. Sidestepping to avoid the bulky book that had been strewn over his lap, the young boy approached the window with his disheveled robe dragging behind him.
He brought his hands to the west-facing window.
Here was a prison tower which jutted at the edge of a cliff. Although the window could be opened, the inlaid iron bars prevented any escape. The boy brought his gaze to look outside, peering between those crevices which couldn’t fit a person’s face, let alone the width of one’s shoulders.
The sky was dark and overcast, the stars hidden from view. A great distance below, a dense fog made from the sprawling forest’s own moisture covered the trees.
“…What is this?”
Without meaning to, the boy let out his voice in a whisper.
He pulled his worn robe higher on his shoulders and pressed his face to the gaps between the iron grating.
The clouds whirled into a spiral, shining faintly.
This mysterious sight had entranced him.
The center of this vortex looked like the bud of a truly enormous rose, and as it gradually grew in size, that rose gently began to blossom.
The young man pondered. Should he bring a telescope over? No, for this brief period of time he couldn’t afford to turn his eyes away.
Something was about to happen.
His blood began to seethe, thumping loudly throughout his entire body. This was an omen. Something is about to happen. ——It’s about to begin.
From the center of the fully-blossomed rose made of clouds, a single ray of light fell upon the forest.
It fell sweetly and gently, as if the light were melting, or as if it were milk dripping down.
“The star that fell to the west…”
A fragment of a legend spread from a distant land fell naturally from the young man’s mouth.
to be continued.