Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

The bottle of Golden Nectar was half-empty, its rich, amber contents glowing like captured sunlight in the low light of the lounge. A comfortable, warm haze had settled over their booth, the initial electric buzz of the Frostfire mellowing into a deep, pleasant hum. Adam was calmly enjoying his drink, already on his fourth glass.

The usually composed Lux was different tonight. The music seemed to flow directly into his veins, his body a conduit for the relentless beat. He’d been narrating the social landscape for nearly an hour, but now, his attention turned inward, to the primal call of the dance floor below. His fingers drummed an increasingly complex rhythm on the table, his silver-tipped boots tapping out a syncopated counterpoint on the polished floor.

His silver eyes, bright and mischievous, landed on Nero. ”Alright, Nero.Theory time is over. You’ve observed the ecosystem. Now it’s time for some field research.”

Nero, who had been content in his role as an anthropologist of Angel’s City nightlife, felt a jolt of apprehension. He shook his head, a firm, slight motion. ”My education stops at observation, Lux. I’m a spectator, not a participant.”

”Ridiculous!” Lux declared, his grin widening. ”You don’t study a storm by watching from a cave. You have to feel the rain! Come on. One dance. It’s a fundamental part of the city’s cultural immersion program.”

’’What have gotten into you tonight. You are like a different person.’’ the curious Nero couldn’t help but voice out his thought.

But Lux simply chuckled he was already on his feet, his energy pulling at the space around them.

Nero cast a glance at Adam, a silent plea for reinforcement. The dwarven prince took a slow, deliberate sip of his Nectar, his expression unreadable. He set the glass down with a soft, definitive click.

”Do not look to me for salvation,” Adam stated, his voice a dry rumble that cut through the music. ”I have fulfilled my noble duty of attendance. My tolerance for this... rhythmic gyration has its limits. You’re in his world of course he will become lively.”

”I’m not in the mood to dance tonight, at least not right now.” Adam added.

Before Nero could formulate another protest, Lux had grabbed his wrist. His grip was surprisingly strong, fueled by a mix of alcohol, exuberance, and genuine intent. It wasn’t a harsh pull, but an insistent, magnetic one.

”You’ve faced down monsters and shattered training dummies with your bare hands,” Lux chided, pulling him to his feet.

”You’re telling me you’re scared of a little coordinated footwork?”

”It’s the lack of coordination that concerns me,” Nero muttered, but he was already moving, propelled by Lux’s unwavering momentum. He shot one last look back at the booth. Adam had already reclaimed his seat, leaning back with his arms crossed, a faint, long-suffering smirk on his face— like a king watching his jesters depart for the arena.

The descent from the VIP lounge was like diving into a warm, turbulent ocean. The wall of sound hit Nero first, the bass so profound it felt like it was rearranging his internal organs. The air, thick with heat and the scent of a thousand bodies, was a tangible thing. Lux, still holding his wrist, navigated the periphery of the dance floor with the innate skill of a fish navigating a coral reef. He found a small pocket of space near the edge, where the crowd was slightly less dense but the energy was just as potent.

”Okay,” Lux shouted, turning to face him, his silver hair catching the strobing lights. ”Don’t think! That’s your first and only rule. Your body knows the rhythm. It’s in your pulse, your breath. Just stop fighting it and listen!”

Nero stood stiffly, his arms held close to his body, feeling profoundly out of place. He saw people around him—their eyes closed, heads thrown back, limbs moving in a loose, unselfconscious flow. They were lost in the music, their individual selves dissolving into the collective beat.

Lux, meanwhile, was a natural extension of the sound. He didn’t just move to the music; he conversed with it. His movements were fluid and sharp by turns, all sharp angles and smooth transitions. He wasn’t showing off; he was simply being. He grinned at Nero’s paralysis and moved closer, not invading his space, but sharing it.

”Stop trying to do it right!” Lux encouraged, his voice cutting through the noise. ”Just feel the vibration in the floor! Let it move up your legs!”

Taking a deep breath, Nero closed his eyes for a second, shutting out the dizzying visual spectacle. He focused inward, on the steady thrum of power in his core, and then outward, to the physical vibration shaking the soles of his boots. He stopped trying to make his body move and instead allowed the relentless thump-thump-thump to suggest the movement. A slight, hesitant shift of his weight from one foot to the other. Then another.

It was clumsy. It was awkward. But it was a start.

Lux whooped in approval, a sound of pure joy that was infectious. ”There you go! See? You’re not broken!”

Encouraged, Nero opened his eyes. He stopped seeing a crowd of judging strangers and started seeing a wave of shared energy. He let his shoulders relax. The tension in his arms released, and his hands, previously clenched, unfurled. He wasn’t dancing like Lux—he would never possess that kind of effortless grace—but he began to find his own rhythm. It was heavier, more grounded, a series of movements that felt more like a martial arts kata adapted to a four-four time signature. He used the momentum of the beat, channeling it through his body.

For a few minutes, they were just two more figures in the swirling mass. Lux would occasionally call out a cue or mirror one of Nero’s more successful movements in an exaggerated, comical way, making him laugh. The self-consciousness began to melt away, replaced by a strange, liberating anonymity.

High above them, Adam watched from his glass-walled perch. He saw the initial stiffness in Nero’s posture, the comical reluctance. He saw Lux’s persistent, almost therapeutic coaxing. And then, he saw the moment it changed. He saw Nero’s shoulders drop, his head tilt back just a fraction, the rigid control giving way to a looser, more natural flow. It wasn’t masterful, but it was genuine.

A rare, genuine smile, small and private, touched Adam’s lips. He took a final sip of the Golden Nectar, savoring its complex warmth. The spectacle below was, he had to admit, more interesting than he’d anticipated. He watched for a few minutes more, observing the two contrasting figures.

’’Maybe I should record this and show the others latter?” he considered doing this for a moment before shaking his head, deciding against it.

Suddenly, Nero’s smartphone rang, it was a notification. Briefly upon checking it he saw a message from Khione asking what he was doing.

’’Ah, talking about timing. Hehehehe! Let’s see how you’ll deal with this.’’

Feeling michevuous, Adam responded after seeing he didn’t lock his phone.

[I’m out with Lux for some night fun.]

After a long moment of silence the ice queen sent her reply.

[I see] (Khione)

For some reason Adam felt chill down his spine, he put the phone down, not forgetting to put it on silent mode.

Back on the dance floor, Nero didn’t his girlfriend had messaged him and Adam playing a prank on him. He was breathing heavily, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow, but he was smiling.

Lux clapped him on the shoulder, his face beaming. ”See? I told you! You’re a natural!”

Nero shook his head, laughing breathlessly.

”I’m a disaster. But... an entertained one.”

”That’s the spirit!” Lux cheered. ”Now, ready for the next lesson?”

Before Nero could answer, Lux had already plunged back into the rhythm, and Nero, no longer needing to be pulled, followed him willingly into the pulsing heart of the light and sound.

°°°

Khione sat on her bed in the Leclair estate, wearing a delicate silver nightgown. She stared at her phone, thinking about the message she’d received.

This doesn’t sound like Nero, she thought. The words are too stiff and mean. It feels like a trick. I bet Adam wrote it.

The moment she reached this conclusion, her eyes turned cold with anger. Far away at the nightclub, Adam suddenly felt a mysterious chill run down his spine.

They’re probably at a nightclub, Khione thought, her mood souring. She wasn’t worried about Nero misbehaving—she trusted his character. But she was annoyed he hadn’t told her his plans.

She let out a small pout, her expression softening into one that looked both cute and a little sad, like a wife waiting for her husband to come home.

Back to the boy’s location. Still feeling chill down his spine, Adam decided to join the other two on the dance floor, time to have some fun as well. Time to show our the prince of night dance.