The Stars Were Not Mistaken

Lysar had left her alone in her room.

Harmony shivered, her heart beginning to race. Her everyday life felt as though it belonged to another lifetime, fading like a half-remembered dream. Now, before her stretched a world overflowing with wonders, dangers… and destiny she had never asked for.

She slowly rose from the bed. Her legs wavered, unsteady, yet something unseen tugged her forward, guiding her to the large window. With trembling fingers, she drew aside the heavy curtain—and froze.

Before her eyes lay a city unlike anything she had ever known: slender towers crowned with golden tiles that shimmered beneath the moonlight, streets alive with graceful figures whose tails swayed like pendulums, and bridges that arched across rivers of light, sparkling as if stardust itself had settled upon them.

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. “This… this can’t be real,” she whispered, her voice fragile against the vast silence of the night. Her body, unable to bear the weight of it all, collapsed back against the bed. Darkness wrapped around her, and sleep claimed her instantly.

When morning came, she woke with a fleeting hope that all of it had been nothing more than a dream. But the soft pink-and-gold walls greeted her still, the bed carried the scent of wildflowers, and the distant chime of bells whispered through the air. This was no dream. This was her reality.

As she stepped cautiously out of her room, she felt every gaze fall upon her. In the foyer, three figures awaited her—slender forms with luminous eyes and slightly pointed ears, their tails swaying with practiced grace, as though each movement was part of a silent performance.

One of them, a young girl with hair white as snow and a short flicking tail, bowed deeply. “Good morning, human girl. I am Nyara. His Majesty has ordered me to escort you through the kingdom.”

“Human girl…?” Harmony blinked. Her chest tightened. Was that truly how everyone here saw her—like some otherworldly being? She swallowed, her voice quick and defensive. “I’m Harmony.”

Nyara’s smile warmed like sunlight. She lifted her head, savoring the name. “Harmony,” she repeated softly. “Strange and beautiful. Like the scent of wind after rain.”

Harmony’s cheeks burned. She wasn’t used to such words, spoken as though her very existence was poetry.

In the hallway’s shadow stood Lysar. His blue eyes met hers, and for a brief moment, calm washed over her. That strange, comforting stillness—something only he carried.

“Nyara will show you the palace and the city,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “Do not fear—I will be near, everywhere you go.”

Her breath caught. “Why would I be afraid?” she tried to sound brave, though her pulse betrayed her.

“Because every step in this world is a trial,” Lysar replied, his figure retreating into the shadows as though he were part of them.

Harmony followed Nyara through glittering corridors where murals told endless stories: cats in battle, cats on thrones, cats scattered among constellations. They stepped onto a balcony, and the city unfurled beneath them—a plaza alive with merchants selling jewels that shone like captured stars, children with plush tails chasing colorful balls, and towers stretching upward as if trying to touch the moon itself.

“Everything is so…” Harmony whispered, words slipping from her lips before she could stop them. “…alive.”

She was stunned. Part of her trembled with fear, and another part… with exhilaration. This world was strange—unfamiliar—yet breathtaking. Her gaze lingered on the ears and swaying tails of these catlike people.

When she looked back, Lysar stood on the balcony steps, watching her. His eyes seemed to say: You are not alone.

And in that instant, she linked those eyes to the stray cat she had once saved in her own world. Could it really be him? No… it’s only my imagination.

Nyara led her down vast corridors, until they reached the palace’s grand doors—carved with golden and silver patterns of stars and feline silhouettes that seemed to shift in the lantern light.

“Now you will stand before the King and Queen,” Nyara whispered, bowing deeply. “Be respectful, but speak true. They value honesty.”

Harmony’s throat tightened. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might echo through the hall. What could she say? That she was just an ordinary girl who happened to help a cat? That she had no idea why she had been brought here?

The doors creaked open, and dazzling brilliance spilled into her eyes. Marble pillars stretched upward like pale trees, while silk curtains drifted like swaying tails in the breeze. Upon the crystalline throne sat the King, draped in silver, his emerald eyes sharp and commanding. At his side was the Queen, regal and elegant, her dark hair falling like a river, her feline ears crowned with tiny jewels.

Lysar stood at the steps before the throne. His face was solemn, but his gaze found her immediately—warm, quiet, and filled with a silent message: Be brave.

Nyara bowed low. “Your Majesties. We have brought her.”

Harmony’s legs felt leaden as she stepped forward. She bowed, clumsy and uncertain.

“Rise, girl,” the King’s voice thundered, filling the hall like a drumbeat. “Tell us your name.”

“H-Harmony,” she whispered. “Harmony Takahashi.”

The Queen tilted her head, as if tasting the sound of it. “Harmony,” she repeated softly. “A name that means balance. Perhaps the stars have not erred.”

Harmony blinked. “The stars…?”

The King turned to Lysar. “Son. You brought her here. Do you believe she is the one spoken of in prophecy?”

A heavy silence fell. Harmony froze. A prophecy? Me?

Lysar stepped forward, steady as steel. His voice did not waver, but his eyes never left hers. “She saved me… in her world. Her eyes—though different—hold the same spirit. I believe it. She carries a power within her.”

In that moment, Harmony realized that Lysar truly was that cat... She blushed, feeling a warm wave of confusion wash over her. “But… I’m not special,” she tried to protest. “I just… wanted to help a cat, Lysar.”

The Queen smiled faintly, her gaze gentle but mysterious. “That is exactly where your power lies, child…”

As the grand doors of the throne room closed behind her, Harmony walked the long palace corridors with a heavy heart. Her words… they had fallen on deaf ears—or so it seemed. To them, she was nothing more than a foreign girl, caught in a world ruled by war and old grudges.

At the end of the corridor, the faint echo of footsteps brushed against her ears. Harmony turned—

and there he was.

Lysar’s stride was quiet, measured, his blue eyes shadowed with thought. But the moment their gazes met, the sharp edge within them softened into something warmer.

“I never had the chance to thank you,” he said, his voice low, steady, almost intimate. “For saving me… Thank you.”

Harmony’s fingers tightened around her notebook, pressing it to her chest as if to steady her racing heart. “I’d do it again,” she said firmly, though her voice quivered. “Every single time. But…” A spark of defiance flickered in her trembling tone. “I can’t accept that war is your only choice. I just can’t.”

He stopped in front of her. The air between them shifted, heavy with his presence—an overwhelming strength tempered by something gentler, something only she seemed to draw out. Lowering his voice to a near-whisper, he admitted:

“I’m sorry. The conflict with the Dog Kingdom… it’s always been there. Since the beginning.”

Her eyes lifted to his, glistening with a sorrow that shone like starlight. “Then maybe…” she breathed, “you need to start with the small things. In my world, I once saw a dog and a cat… curled up together, sharing the same bed. If they can do that… then why can’t your people?”

For a moment, Lysar’s expression hardened. His gaze grew shadowed, as if burdened by an unseen weight. “…You don’t know what they’re capable of. If the dog people ever learn you’re here, you’ll be in danger.”