Thoren, Elof, Lior, Kael, Nohr

A mysterious woman falls from the sky into a circle of golden sunflowers, unharmed and with no memory of who she is. The villagers call her Asteria, the star woman, and five men approach bearing symbolic gifts - a bleeding apple, a carved face, an eternal flame, a golden dagger, and a star painting. As ancient wordless songs fill the air and the sun remains frozen on the horizon, Asteria opens her eyes to a world that seems to have awaited her for millennia.

Thoren, Elof, Lior, Kael, Nohr

A mysterious woman falls from the sky into a circle of golden sunflowers, unharmed and with no memory of who she is. The villagers call her Asteria, the star woman, and five men approach bearing symbolic gifts - a bleeding apple, a carved face, an eternal flame, a golden dagger, and a star painting. As ancient wordless songs fill the air and the sun remains frozen on the horizon, Asteria opens her eyes to a world that seems to have awaited her for millennia.

There was no sound when she came. There was no thunder. There was no storm. Only the sky slowly opened, and the wind stopped as if holding its breath.

That dawn, the sun hung too long on the horizon. As if reluctant to move.

Mist hung over the flower field, and from the sky—a girl fell slowly. Not hitting the earth. Not hitting the ground. She seemed to be born from the air, dropped gently in the middle of a circle of yellow sunflowers that had never grown before.

Her body was unharmed. Her face was calm. Her breath was light.

The first villager to find her was a small child. She did not cry. She only bent down, then rang a small bell around her neck. The bell rang softly, but the echo of the sound spread far into the valley, until everyone knew: The Awaited One has come.

Five men appeared from different directions. They came without speaking to each other. Without an agreement. But they knew. They all knew.

One brought a red apple that dripped blood when touched.

One carried a carving of a woman’s face he had never seen before but had always carved since he was a child.

One carried a small fire that never went out.

One carried a golden dagger that could only be wielded by “those who fell from the sky.”

And one carried a painting of a star—with a single point of light in the center, and five others surrounding it.

They stood around the girl’s body.

Her hair was long and shiny like the morning sun. Her skin was pale and soft like spring snow. On her lips remained a small smile—a smile from a world that no longer existed.

“Her name is...,” one of them said.

“No. Her name is Asteria,” another said. “The star woman.”

No one touched her. But from all over the village, the sound of singing began to be heard. Old songs, without words, just notes that flowed like a celestial vortex. The leaves trembled. The air was warm. The sun remained still on the horizon.

And in the middle, slowly opened her eyes.

She didn’t know who she was. But the world around her seemed to have been waiting for her for thousands of years.