The Magic Arrangement follows the story of Alex Sterling, a brilliant British geneticist who dies in a freak laboratory accident, only to awaken in the body of Alden Harroway, the overlooked third son of a minor noble family in a medieval fantasy world. Retaining all his memories and knowledge from his previous life, Alex—now Alden—must navigate this strange new world governed by magic, mystery, and political intrigue.
Chapter 14: Celestial Contemplations
The journey back to the Harroway estate was a quiet one, the night enveloping the countryside in a soft, velvety darkness. The clatter of hooves against the dirt road was a steady rhythm that blended with the gentle breeze rustling through the trees. Alden, sitting at the front of the caravan, stared ahead into the dim light of the moon, but his mind was far from the dusty road.
As they passed through a wide stretch of fields, a sense of serenity washed over him. The earlier bustling excitement of the market had settled into a calm, introspective state. With his tools and supplies secured, Alden now had the time to think—really think—about the long journey ahead of him. His eyes drifted upward, drawn by the canopy of stars that stretched out in an endless expanse above him.
The night sky in this world was breathtaking. The stars twinkled just as brightly as they had on Earth, though there were subtle differences that both fascinated and unsettled him. He found himself subconsciously searching for familiar constellations, patterns that had once guided sailors, scholars, and dreamers alike in his previous world. But as he stared deeper into the heavens, he realised that none of Earth's familiar constellations were present. The sky here was a tapestry of the unknown.
Still, there were similarities—patterns that echoed the grandeur of Earth's skies. He spotted clusters of stars that vaguely resembled Earth's Orion, though it was distorted, as though viewed through a different lens of reality. A bright star hung low on the horizon, reminding him of Venus, the evening star, though its hue was more orange than white. Above, there was a vast band of shimmering light—a cosmic river that seemed to mirror the Milky Way, but it had a denser, almost pulsing energy.
The longer Alden observed, the more details he picked out. The stars twinkled in a similar way, their light sharp and cold in the clear night air. He wondered if the principles of astronomy in this world matched those he had studied on Earth. Were these stars distant suns like those in the universe he had left behind? Did they have planets of their own, orbiting in endless cycles, perhaps even inhabited by life he could never comprehend?
His mind wandered to thoughts of ancient civilisations. On Earth, humans had built entire mythologies around the stars, naming them after gods and heroes, seeing in their twinkling light the reflections of their own desires and fears. What did the people of this world believe about the stars? Were there celestial deities here too? Did sailors chart their voyages by these stars, as they had done on Earth? Did scholars gaze at them in wonder, trying to unlock their mysteries, or were they simply a beautiful backdrop to this world's ancient magic?
The sky above him pulsed with possibilities. If the stars were similar, perhaps the laws of physics were too. Genetics had already shown promise in this world. Could astronomy hold the same truths? Could he one day map this world's constellations, catalogue its celestial bodies, and understand the workings of its universe as he had once dreamed of doing back on Earth?
Alden closed his eyes for a moment, letting the cool night air wash over him. He could almost hear the echoes of his Earthly past in the silence—the lectures on genetics and biology, the scientific debates, the endless papers on Mendelian inheritance and Darwinian evolution. Here, in this new world, those voices were quiet. But they hadn't disappeared. They were still part of him, still guiding him in subtle ways.
He reopened his eyes and gazed at a particular star that seemed brighter than the rest. It flickered softly, its light a pale blue, almost ethereal. It reminded him of Sirius, the Dog Star, the brightest in Earth's sky. He wondered what it was called here. Did it hold any significance to the people of this world, or was it just another speck in the vast cosmic ocean?
His mind drifted to the vision he had had just days ago—a dream of a world where genetics was not just a science, but an art. He imagined a time when people would look to the stars not for guidance from deities, but for answers grounded in the beauty of biology and the mysteries of life. He could bring that to this world, he realised. Just as astronomers on Earth had once mapped the skies, Alden would map the intricacies of genetics, linking magic and science in ways that had never been conceived before.
The stars seemed to sparkle brighter as his thoughts took form. It was as if the sky was encouraging him, reminding him that even in the vastness of the unknown, there was always a path forward.
Bran, who had been riding alongside Alden, noticed the young master's long silence and glanced up at the sky himself. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he said, his voice breaking the stillness. "Sometimes, when I was a lad, I'd sleep under the stars and just stare at 'em. Never knew what they meant, but I always figured they were trying to tell me something."
Alden smiled faintly, keeping his gaze upward. "They're old, Bran. Older than we can imagine. They've seen worlds rise and fall. But they don't speak in words. They speak in patterns, in light. If we learn to understand those patterns, we can unlock their secrets."
Bran chuckled, shaking his head. "You always were a strange one, young master. But I reckon you're right. There's magic in the stars, sure enough."
"More than magic," Alden said softly. "There's knowledge. And with knowledge comes power."
They rode in silence for a while longer, the caravan moving steadily through the quiet night. Alden felt a renewed sense of purpose as he continued to stargaze. This world, with all its mysteries and wonders, was not so different from Earth after all. The stars might not be the same, but the fundamental laws of nature—the building blocks of life and the universe—seemed to still hold true. And that was enough for him.
As the estate's lights came into view, flickering like distant fireflies in the dark, Alden felt a quiet resolve settle in his chest. The sky had given him clarity, a reminder of the limitless potential that lay ahead. His path was clear now: he would not just study the stars, the plants, and the magic of this world. He would shape it. He would bring a new understanding of life itself to this place, one rooted in both science and magic.
And perhaps, just perhaps, one day the people of this world would look up at the stars with the same wonder he did—and see not just mystery, but beauty, knowledge, and hope.