The Fox and the Banish Star
Spirita's gem, the Soulforge Citadel, towered like a city sculpted from the bones of Gods. It was the wealthiest, most opulent city on the continent—not in terms of its markets, nor gold, but because it was the center of Spirita's most feared authority.
From the cobblestone streets to sweeping plazas, life here was one of awe. Citizens swept in perpetual currents, but every hat and hood turned when their gaze inevitably wandered towards the gigantic palace at the city center. towers, chiseled into runes of long-forgotten ages, clawed into the sky. Even the stone itself seemed to exhale power, each crease whispering of the Queen's dominion.
Their eyes overflowed with wonder, nearly worship, as though even the air was sacred.
And yet, in the crowd, one presence was out of place.
A young man strode as if the din of the world was unable to reach him. His pace was slow, nearly detached, as if he was both a part of this earthly throng and something completely beyond it.
Nux.
His presence attracted the world as iron to a magnet. His face, elegant and perfect, as if molded by hands that were immortal. But his eyes—black, bottomless, as star-filled skies—attacked and held every eye. They did not simply see; they drew, as if every soul craved to see what worlds were hidden in their depths.
Men, women, young, old—none of it mattered. No one who crossed him could help but be moved.
"Tsk, tsk… that aura… no common man. Must be the son of some grand house, out here pretending to be of the common sort."
"Fiddle-dee-dee! Even heirs to the seven sects don't walk like that. Look at him. That face, by itself… unmatched."
"Shut your mouth, you stupid fool! If he's a nobleman's son, do you want to lose your tongue?"
Admiration glimmered in men's eyes, but the murmurs of women told another tale altogether.
Two girls hung around a stall of hot buns, their voices carrying just barely for people standing nearby to overhear.
One pulled on her friend's arm, her voice a breathless whisper.
"Look—over there! Do you see him? Handsome… he's so—Gods, my heart…"
Her best friend groaned, laughing as she pushed at her hand.
"You little fool. Every time you lay eyes on a good man, you melt like a spring-struck maiden. This is a place full of roughnecks. Where would a handsome man just suddenly turn up from?"
No! This one is different," the innocent girl protested, eyes glassy, lips slightly apart as she gazed at Nux. "This. this is real. I swear my heart's racing."
Her friend laughed, ready to mock again, but when her eye casually tracked—her laughter ceased. Her mouth fell open, and her face set.
".!"
The silence loomed.
The innocent girl whirled, caught the expression on her friend's face, and scoffed in derisive distaste.
Oh, look at you. Didn't you say I was the one longing for spring? Then what's that drooling face you're making now?"
"I-I'm not!" her best friend snapped, flustered, though her eyes clung helplessly to Nux.
The first girl crossed her arms, smug.
"Some people slap themselves silly, huh? Saliva dripping, face flushed—shameless!"
Her friend spluttered, cheeks scarlet.
"You damn brat, stop spouting rubbish! You're the shameless one. Your virtue's long gone—"
She was cut off before she could finish.
"Bah! And suppose I did? What if I go after him first?"
The argument devolved into quarreling, the onlookers whispering and shaking their heads.
"Sisters, hold it in," one older woman grumbled under her breath, her cheeks flushed in spite of herself. "At least pretend you're reserved."
And yet even as they reprimanded, their own eyes stayed. Not only because of his good looks—it was more. There was something in Nux that held the heavy energy of secrets, the force of foreordination. He was not merely a pretty stranger; he was a riddle they all wished to solve.
And then, suddenly, a voice—clear, sing-song—broke into the gossip.
"Hey, handsome little brother. First time in the Soulforge Citadel?"
Nux slowed, brows rising as a figure boldly inserted himself into his path.
The girl who stood before him was beautiful in a way that hushed the crowd. Clad in a decadent golden gown, her form was chiseled in curves and lines that captured every gaze. Long legs shone beneath silk, perfect skin glowing softly under the afternoon sun. Her face—angular, beautiful—was the sort cut for temptation, standing on the edge of holy and devil. And her eyes, painted pink like sunset over a war field, appeared to pull at the soul itself.
The men surrounding them stumbled halfway. Most of them gazed, lust and terror muddled in their eyes, but none approached. They recognized her. Or rather, they recognized enough to keep their distance.
Nux did not even shift the grip he had on the wee pink rabbit cuddled in his arm—Syra in her small configuration—and idly scratched behind its ears. His gaze scanned up and down the girl who stood in his path.
Golden short hair shone like fire, her stance proud, her loveliness irrefutable. By any measure of men, she was a Goddess among mortals, attested to by the way everyone stared.
To him?
Nux's tone was icy, bordering on condescending.
"And what concern is it of yours?"
The girl's smile arrested.
Hera—the Queen's personal apprentice, Spirita's renowned sorceress—was not accustomed to this. She was the crown of the Soulforge Citadel, born of reverence, her gift unparalleled, her loveliness extolled as second only to her instructor, Rose. Wherever she was, men fumbled over each other to fall to their knees, to plead for her notice.
But this man… did not even flinch.
For a moment, Hera questioned herself. She even reached out and touched her cheek, jade-smooth, to ensure everything was fine. Still perfect. Still flawless. So why—why did this man's lack of interest hurt so much more than any slur?
Nux stepped to move past her, indifferent.
Her breath caught, her pride wounded, and before she could stop herself, words spilled out.
"Wait—hey, stop!
She ran forward, long legs bearing her with ease as she pursued him, eyes blazing with curiosity she hadn't experienced for years.