The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows across the small, cobbled streets of Phobos. The smell of fish and spices from the nearby markets wafted through the air.

But today, there was a strange buzz in the air—one that had been growing stronger over the past few days.

People were whispering about the sudden influx of nobles arriving in Phobos—servants, attendants, and various others associated with the high-ranking families.

For a slum rat like Wynn, this was utterly obscene. The only noble he had ever come across in his thirteen years of existence and 10 years of sentience was undoubtedly only Liora, whom, in his perception, was the highest of the high in society. She was his closest friend, the daughter of the Baron of Phobos, a noble whose title was just above a commoner but still far above him. She was everything he could wish to be: clean, well-spoken, refined. But now, seeing this luxury pouring into Phobos—expensive luxury cars, people dressed in immaculate designer brands as well as the polished demeanor of haughty nobles who held an air of superiority—was surreal to him.

He trudged along, his figure shrouded by the shadows of alleyways, hiding beneath a tattered grey hoodie that did little to shield him from the cold but concealed his dirty, yellowish-white hair and dusty oil-covered face. He kept his head low, avoiding eye contact like a criminal on trial, walking with his shoulders hunched, as though he could melt into the background.

He was already the lowliest of the low in the scheme of Phobos, but when it came to Zerith, he was nothing but an ant. His heart pounded as he glanced at the crowds of unfamiliar faces, their arrogance practically oozing from every step they took.

"What's all this about?" Wynn muttered under his breath as he admired a sleek, black limousine.

Behind him, came the sound of faint approaching footsteps

He turned around.

It was Liora and Kai, the latter's eyes wide as they took in the chaos.

"Liora, what's going on?" Wynn asked, his voice low.

Liora looked strained, her red hair and high-born demeanor barely able to mask her frustration. "The Duke of Sothis... he's coming to Phobos," she said, her tone sharp, almost bitter. "And with him, all the high-ranking families of Zerith. They're here to prepare for his arrival."

Wynn blinked. "The Duke... of Sothis? What's that? Is he... important?"

Liora's eyes narrowed slightly at his lack of understanding, "Wynn, a Duke, is one of the most powerful people in the empire. The Dukes rule the seven planets. Each Duke has power over everything in their realm, and The Duke of Sothis... well... even though he's ranked sixth in the planetary hierarchy, He's still far above everything here in Zerith ranked 7th."

Wynn's brow furrowed as he tried to process the information. "So... all these people—these rich people—are coming because of one guy?"

"Exactly," Kai piped in. "People like the marquises, the counts—they all come to bootlick and try currying favor with the nobles of higher ranking planets. It's all called politics Wynn."

Wynn nodded slowly, although he couldn't fully understand what all these fancy titles—dukes, marquises, and counts—meant; God he couldn't even comprehend what the big deal was about ruling over a stupid large sphere, albeit he had to go with the flow.

Liora crossed her arms, her posture tense.

"And Phobos? Why would he come to Phobos? Zerith is already a forgotten backwater alley in the empire, but Phobos? Phobos is the dust beneath its heels, We're at the bottom, Wynn. Phobos is tiny, puny and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. If anything, it's an embarrassment for someone like the Duke of Sothis, one of the rulers of the main 6 planets to even sneeze here."

"Don't stress about it. It's just a bunch of fancy people doing bougee fancy things. Let's focus more on having fun. The Duke doesn't even know we exist. He's just here for his own business, right?"

Liora didn't look convinced. She crossed her arms, her posture stiff as she scanned the lavish carriages and people in sparkling gowns. "It's hard not to feel like a speck of dust when you're surrounded by all this... wealth." She waved a hand at the nobles strutting past them. "My father's title doesn't even compare to the Dukes, the Marquises, or even the Counts. I mean, look at them. We're so far below them, I might as well be invisible."

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Wynn scratched the back of his neck, trying to find the right words. "Well um, you're not invisible to me you know. You're Liora, and that's way more important than any fancy title." He gave her a reassuring smile trying his best to mask the red tinge that threatened to climb up his cheeks.

Kai, who had been unusually quiet, nudged Liora with a gentle smile. "Wynn's right. The festival's about having fun. These nobles are gonna leave in due time anyways, but we'll still be here with you. We have our own... charm, right?" He flashed a grin at Wynn.

Liora's gaze softened slightly, her tension easing just a bit. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But it's still hard to ignore how... out of place we are. My father worked so hard to get this title, and now it feels like nothing when compared to them."

Wynn puffed up his chest, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Look, you've got this festival to enjoy. You're the daughter of a Baron, Low ranking or Not, you still own this territory! You've got style, class, and the best friends a girl could ever ask for." He gave a mock bow. "We're practically flashy nobles in our own right."

Liora snorted, her frustration melting into a small laugh. "You're impossible, Wynn."

Wynn winked. "It's a talent."

Kai chuckled and added, "And you're stuck with us, whether you like it or not Liora."

Liora laughed properly this time, her smile returning. "I guess I'll survive. But if we run into any Dukes or Marquises, I'm hiding behind you two."

"That's the spirit!" Wynn grinned. "I'll protect you from the terrifying world of rich people, one awkward bow at a noble at a time."

Kai laughed again, the mood lighter now. "Alright, enough about the nobles. Let's just enjoy the festival. The Duke can wait. We've got food, music, and—"

"And the world's best slum rat to show us a good time," Wynn interrupted, puffing out his chest again. "Just follow my lead, and we'll have a blast!"

Liora rolled her eyes, but her smile stayed. "Fine, you're right. Let's enjoy it while we can."

**********

As Wynn pushed open the door, he was met with the soft, warm light of the single candle flickering in the corner of the room. His adopted mother, Maris, was sitting at the small wooden table, staring into her bowl with a furrowed brow. But what caught Wynn's attention immediately was Fiona—again.

Fiona, the woman who'd shown up uninvited more times than Wynn could count, sat across from Maris with her arms crossed and her lips pressed into a tight line. There was an undeniable tension in the air, something between the two of them that felt... off. Neither of them noticed Wynn at first, too absorbed in their silent standoff.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Uh, hey, Mom. Fiona. What's going on?"

Maris and Fiona both stiffened at the sound of his voice. They quickly straightened up, exchanging a brief, unreadable look before Maris forced a smile and waved him in.

"Nothing, Wynn. Just... just a little disagreement," she said, her voice a bit too light. Fiona, on the other hand, shot Maris a glance that could've cut glass but immediately softened as her eyes landed on Wynn.

"Right. Just some... heated conversation," Fiona added, her usual confidence replaced by an odd softness. "Nothing for you to worry about." She stood up as if to leave but paused, looking at Maris for a moment longer before turning back to Wynn. "Have you had a good day Winnie Darling?"

Wynn, a little suspicious, nodded. "Yeah, it was... weird, but good. There's a lot going on with all these nobles flooding in. Liora's kind of on edge about it." He shrugged, not wanting to dwell on the festival chatter for too long.

CRAP!

Maris gave him an odd, knowing smile, her eyes twinkling as she leaned forward. "You know, Wynn... you really should ask Liora to dance at the Moonlit Festival. It's a tradition amongst 13 year old's after all, and I think she'd love to be asked. You've been spending so much time together, after all."

Fiona nodded, as though this were an obvious point. "She looks more nervous about the festival than she lets on. Asking her to dance might be just the thing to make her feel special."

Wynn blinked, his face flushing. "You think I should... dance with Liora?"

Maris chuckled softly. "Why not? You've got nothing to lose, and besides, the ceremony's supposed to be magical isn't it? You two would make a great pair. If anyone could bring a little joy to the night, it's you."

Wynn scratched the back of his neck, unsure but trying to act casual. "Yeah, sure. Maybe I'll think about it."

The conversation shifted back to the tension between Maris and Fiona, though Wynn couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more behind their terse exchange. He pushed the thought aside, realizing that the evening was slipping away, and there was something he had to do before tomorrow.

"I'll be back soon, I just need to get something," Wynn said, heading for the door.

"Take care, Wynn," Fiona called, her usual coolness replaced by something warmer. "And don't forget about what we said."

As Wynn stepped outside, the crisp night air hit him, and he took a deep breath, shaking off the tension from the house. He needed something special for Liora. The Moonlit Ceremony would be the perfect opportunity to give her something meaningful—something that spoke of his unrequited admiration for her.

And maybe just maybe

she would finally notice him?

He wandered down the streets, his eyes scanning the ground until he spotted what he was looking for—a beautiful, deep crimson starflower growing in a patch near the edge of the slums. The petals were soft yet vibrant, a shade of red that almost seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. He knelt down to gently pluck it from the earth, carefully avoiding the thorns that lined the stem.

It was perfect.