Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

The sun stretched before them, warm and golden. Nero glanced at his phone, then at Khione. The meeting with Lux and the others was scheduled for late afternoon.

They still had three, maybe four hours he quickly calculated. Enough time for something more than sitting around in the academy.

He typed a quick message into the group chat: Going out with Khione. Might be late. Start without me if I’m not back.

Lux replied first, of course he teased him : Taking her out on date, so quickly, my boy Nero have grown up, dad’s happy.

Adam: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

Blake: That leaves a lot of possibilities, Adam.

Adam: Shut up.

Nero smiled and pocketed his phone, ignoring those three furiously typing replies filled with insults. He looked at Khione. ”Let’s go outside. Just for a few hours.”

She tilted her head, her ice-blue eyes searching his face. Then she nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. Her expression remained neutral, but he knew her. He saw the slight softening around her eyes, the faint lift at the corner of her lips.

She was happy. How could she not, spending time with her man always brought her an immense joy. There’s a saying, ’Once in love, life is colorful.’ and indeed she could relate.

They walked through the academy gates, past the guards who nodded in recognition, and into the outer city. The streets were busy, filled with cadets on leave, merchants hawking their wares, families enjoying the afternoon. They moved through the crowd, not rushing, simply walking together. Her hand found his, and he held it loosely, comfortably.

The train station was a large, arched building of glass and steel. They passed through its doors into the cavernous main hall, where departure boards flashed with destinations and times. Nero pulled out his phone and scrolled through the various options. He wanted somewhere close, somewhere beautiful, somewhere they could walk and talk and simply be, nothing complicated you see.

His finger stopped on a name. Velden. A city known for its cascades—waterfalls that tumbled down the mountainside into a series of terraced pools. A city of parks and gardens, where tall buildings rose among ancient trees, and the sound of water was never far away. Thirty-five minutes by super train. Perfect if he ought to say.

He showed her the screen. Khione glanced at it, then at him, and nodded.

They bought tickets and boarded the train.

The super train was sleek and quiet, its interior hushed, the seats plush, he would always marvel at how someone created this.

The couple found a pair near the window, and Khione settled beside him, her shoulder pressed against his arm. The train began to move, the station sliding away, the city giving way to green fields and scattered houses.

Nero pulled a book from his pocket—a fantasy novel, worn and well-read, its pages soft from use. He opened it to the marked page and began to read. Khione did not ask what it was about. She simply rested her head on his shoulder, her white hair spilling across his arm, and listened.

He read aloud, softly, his voice low enough that only she could hear. The words were old, familiar, a story of heroes and dragons, of quests and magic. He had read it a dozen times, but her presence made it new. Her breathing was slow, steady, her body relaxed against his. She was not sleeping. She was listening, feeling, sharing what her lover was reading.

The train passed through rolling hills, then forests, then the outskirts of a city. The buildings grew taller, the streets wider, the trees more numerous. Nero closed his book and looked out the window.

Velden was beautiful indeed as rumors stated.

The city rose from a valley, its towers gleaming in the beautiful sun. But between the towers, trees grew—oaks and maples and pines, their branches reaching toward the sky. Parks dotted the landscape, their green a vivid contrast to the gray stone. And everywhere, water. Streams ran along the streets, small canals lined with flowers.

Fountains sprayed in the plazas. And in the distance, a cascade—a great waterfall that fell from the mountainside into a series of terraced pools, its mist rising like a silver veil.

The train slowed, gliding into the station. Nero rose, offering Khione his hand. She took it, and they stepped off the train into the city of water and trees.

”It’s beautiful,” he said, looking around.

Khione stood beside him, her eyes scanning the towers, the trees, the distant falls.

”I came here once,” she said. ”With my mother. A long time ago.”

Nero looked at her. She rarely spoke of her mother. He did not press.

”I was young,” she continued. ”I don’t remember much. But I remember the falls. The sound of the water. The way the mist felt on my skin.”

”Let’s go there,” Nero said. ”To the falls.”

She nodded, and they began to walk. The city welcomed them, its streets clean, its air fresh with the scent of water and flowers.

They passed shops and cafes, galleries and bookstores. People smiled as they walked by, not recognizing them, not caring who they were. Just two young people, holding hands, exploring a beautiful city.

Nero felt something loosen in his chest. The weight of the tower, the visions, the coming storm—it all faded, just for a moment. There was only this. The warmth of her hand. The sound of the water. The promise of the afternoon.

They walked toward the falls, toward the mist and the roar, toward a memory she had shared and a moment they would create together.

The falls roared in the distance, a constant, soothing thunder. Nero and Khione walked toward the sound, their hands still linked, their steps unhurried.

They passed a small bridge arching over a canal, and Khione stopped to look down at the clear water, at the fish swimming lazily beneath the surface. Nero waited, watching her. The sun caught her hair, turning it silver.