Far atop the highest mountain, farther than the setting sun and among the stars that shine brightly, there lay the patterns created by the great almighty beings. These beings, which mortals call by many names, are the watchful eyes of the heavens, always observing the chaos that is mankind. It is of the utmost importance that they do not interfere in human affairs, for divine intervention can be either timely or wicked. The patterns that they create, the constellations, pave the way for humanity to learn the tragic stories of the heroes that fell before them. Stories of love, stories of death, and stories of betrayal and treachery decorate the skies above us. It’s no wonder that our people who live beneath this tapestry are destined to repeat history and befall misfortunes that are greater than those of our champions.

One fateful night, Orion, the great hunter of the heavens, let fly an arrow from his bow – a shooting star that pierced straight through the belly of the mighty Taurus whose roar was heard echoing across the great night sky. All the constellations gathered and surrounded Taurus’ trembling body. They questioned why one of their own would harm another. Aquarius, the healer of the zodiac, poured his shimmering water over the great bull and a shower of stardust licked the wound clean. Libra, the fair judge of all the stars, called forth the Gemini twins, Castor and Pollux, and asked for their account of what they had witnessed. Among all the stars in the sky, they were the only ones who watched as the arrow flew across the blue. With a sigh and a deep breath, the twins began their story.

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