Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

The midday sun bathed the academy square in warm golden light, its rays glinting against the stone-paved plaza. Cadets came and went in pairs or small groups, some talking loudly about the quarantine being lifted, others darting to nearby shops and restaurants with energy pent-up from the past week.

At the center of the bustle, two figures drew every eye.

Lux, with his silver hair catching the sunlight like molten starlight, walked with an easy confidence. His silver eyes sparkled as if reflecting the brightness of the day itself. His casual clothes—light cotton shirt, pale trousers, and a loosely fitted jacket—seemed tailored to his gentle aura. His every step exuded openness, and every smile he offered to passing cadets was met with quick waves or shy blushes.

By contrast, Nero walked beside him in silence. His dark blue hair shifted slightly with the breeze, his red eyes glinting under the shade of his fringe like a predator’s gaze. Dressed in a simple summer outfit of black shirt and fitted trousers, his appearance was unadorned, yet no less striking. If Lux was sunlight, Nero was dusk—quiet, cold, mysterious. Where Lux’s smile invited people closer, Nero’s impassive face warned them to keep their distance.

The contrast between the two only amplified their presence. Like two extremes of a painting standing side by side, their figures became the center of attention the moment they stepped into the shopping district.

Whispers followed them.

”Look—it’s Lux!”

”And isn’t that Nero? Together?”

”They’re so different... but so handsome...”

”I can’t... my heart can’t take this...”

Nero paid no mind to the voices. His crimson gaze swept over the row of clothing shops lining the avenue, mentally noting which looked worth entering. Lux, on the other hand, chuckled softly, as if used to the attention.

”Seems like we’ve caused quite the stir,” Lux said, his tone casual but tinged with amusement.

Nero shrugged. ”You seem to enjoy it more than I do.”

”It’s not about enjoying it,” Lux replied with his trademark gentle smile. ”But I don’t mind being looked at if it makes others feel a little brighter.”

”...You really live to be everyone’s saint, don’t you?” Nero muttered, half sarcastic, half curious.

Lux only laughed, brushing it off with an ease Nero couldn’t decide was genuine or calculated.

They entered the first shop. It was a high-end boutique favored by cadets from noble families, lined with neatly arranged racks of tailored shirts, coats, and fitted trousers. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and expensive fabric.

The shop attendant, a young woman with perfect posture, froze the moment she saw them. For a second she seemed unable to decide whom to greet first—the glowing silver-haired cadet or the brooding, crimson-eyed one beside him. She settled with a bow toward both.

”Welcome. May I... assist you?” she stammered slightly.

”I’m here to pick some clothes,” Nero said bluntly, not wasting words.

”Of course,” the attendant replied quickly, gesturing toward the men’s section. ”We have a new summer collection that should suit you well.”

Nero started browsing the racks with quiet precision, flipping through shirts and jackets with the air of someone focused only on practicality. Lux, however, leaned back slightly and watched with an amused smile.

”You really do treat everything like a mission,” Lux remarked. ”Clothing is supposed to be an expression, you know.”

”Clothes are just things you wear,” Nero replied flatly, lifting a dark navy shirt against his frame.

Lux tilted his head. ”That one matches your eyes. Not bad.”

Before Nero could respond, the shop attendant blushed and added, ”I-I agree! It suits you very well, sir.”

Nero ignored the flustered tone and simply handed the shirt over to try.

Soon he was ushered into the fitting room. When he stepped out, wearing the navy shirt paired with slim black trousers, a hush fell over the shop. A pair of female cadets, pretending to browse nearby, froze mid-step. The impassive, red-eyed young man looked sharper than usual, the shirt hugging his muscles in a way that accentuated his athletic frame without being ostentatious. The faint scars from countless battles peeked just slightly at his collarbone, adding an edge that made him look dangerous, alluring.

Lux clapped lightly. ”Now that looks like you. Strong, simple, but not unrefined.”

The female cadets whispered furiously behind their hands. Nero caught the sound but ignored it, checking the mirror only briefly before disappearing back into the fitting room.

Lux, not wanting to be idle, tried a few pieces himself. When he stepped out in a light-gray cardigan over a white shirt, the contrast between them deepened. Standing side by side, Lux looked like the perfect nobleman—radiant, approachable—while Nero looked like the mercenary who would silently watch his back from the shadows.

It didn’t take long for more eyes to gather outside the shop windows. A small group of cadets had stopped entirely, gawking shamelessly at the sight.

”Are they filming an advertisement?” one muttered.

”No... they’re just shopping...” another replied in awe.

Nero sighed quietly. ”This is getting ridiculous.”

Lux only smiled, clearly unbothered. ”You’ll get used to it.”

By the time they had visited three shops, Nero had chosen a small but practical selection: a handful of shirts, trousers, and a jacket—minimalistic, dark-toned, no unnecessary embellishments. Lux teased him more than once for being ”hopelessly spartan,” but Nero simply shrugged it off.

”You’re the kind of man who’d wear the same thing for a week if no one noticed,” Lux commented as they left the final shop, bags in hand.

”And you’re the kind who’d change three times a day just to match the weather,” Nero retorted.

Lux laughed aloud. ”Guilty as charged.”

They made their way toward a café at the edge of the square, a cozy establishment with outdoor seating shaded by wide umbrellas. The scent of roasted coffee and fresh pastries lingered in the air, drawing in a steady flow of customers.

Lux chose a seat by the window, where sunlight filtered through the glass and cast a warm glow over the wooden table. Nero set his bags down and sat across from him, his posture as straight as if he were still in training.

The waiter approached quickly, clearly nervous but polite. Lux ordered a cappuccino with a slice of cake, while Nero opted for a simple black coffee.

As they waited, the silence between them stretched. Yet it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was simply the natural rhythm between two men so different yet strangely complementary.

Lux broke it first. ”Nero... I’ve always wondered. Why do you never let yourself relax?”

Nero’s crimson eyes lifted, steady and cold.

”Relaxation dulls the edge.”

”Or perhaps,” Lux countered gently, ”you’re afraid of what you’ll find when you let the silence in.”

For a brief second, Nero’s eyes flickered. The words struck deeper than he cared to admit. But he said nothing, only staring out the window at the cadets passing by.

Their drinks arrived, steam curling gently from the cups. Lux sipped his cappuccino with elegance, while Nero took his black coffee in quiet gulps, the bitter taste grounding him.

The café buzzed with quiet chatter, but at their table, two extremes sat in rare companionship. Light and shadow, saint and warrior.

And though no one said it aloud, the sight of the two together made the entire place feel as if something extraordinary was quietly unfolding beneath the surface.