Lucian stepped onto the dark rooftop of a building, his eyes fixed on the bustling city far below. Tonight, a new assignment awaited him, and as always, he carried it out with the unshaken calmness that had become a part of him. As an assassin, there was nothing more routine than completing a job without unnecessary questions.
Below, a man darted away from the crowd, anxiously slipping into a narrow alley. Lucian knew exactly who he was—a high-ranking official who had betrayed the organization he once served. Time was running out. Lucian moved swiftly. Without a sound, he leaped down, and in a movement so quick it was almost imperceptible, his blade was drawn. In the blink of an eye, the man collapsed, his life drained away as blood pooled on the cold ground.
"Done," he murmured, wiping the blood from his sword. Yet, even with the mission completed, something unsettled him. It was an unfamiliar feeling—one that went beyond the usual monotony of his work.
Lucian gazed up at the dark night sky. There was something different about him tonight, something he couldn't quite explain. Maybe it was because his twentieth birthday was only a week away, but deep down, he knew that wasn't what troubled him. What truly lingered in his mind was his second star. Every day, he felt himself growing stronger, yet he still didn't fully understand what was happening within him. His second star was awakening—something he had never expected.
His first star, Grus, had been a part of him since he was five. A star from the Grus constellation—the Crane—had granted him flight, speed, and agility, though unlike others, his star was shrouded in a darker, more ominous aura. Many found it unsettling, even terrifying, but to Lucian, it was simply a part of who he was.
As for his second star... he knew almost nothing about it. The existence of a second star was rare—double stars were almost unheard of. It was unfamiliar, a mystery even to him. He had no idea whether this new star would make him stronger, or if it would turn out to be weak and insignificant. But one thing was certain—it was now awakening, stirring within him, offering a flicker of hope in a life filled with nothing but hardship and bloodshed.
After completing his task, Lucian made his way back to the wooden hut where he lived with the children he protected. The hut was simple—more of a shelter than a home—but to Lucian, it was more comforting than any palace. Inside, thirteen children lived under his care, ranging in age from two to sixteen. They were all born with minor stars—stars deemed inferior by society. Yet, to Lucian, they were his family.
Before returning, he stopped by a nearby bakery to buy some bread. It had become his routine after every mission—to bring back food for the children. No matter how small, this simple act of kindness made a difference. He never cared about himself; what mattered was that they had something to eat.
When he stepped inside, the soft sound of his footsteps stirred the children from their sleep. One by one, they groggily woke up and approached him, their eyes still heavy with drowsiness. Lucian reached into his bag and handed out the bread, one piece at a time.
"Thank you, Lucian!" a small child mumbled sleepily. The others followed, their voices weak but grateful.
Lucian gave a small, barely noticeable smile. "Eat well. You need to stay strong."
Soon, the hut fell quiet again as the children settled back down. Lucian, however, stepped outside, letting the crisp night air wash over him. As he stood beneath the endless sky, a soft voice called out.
"Lucian."
He turned to see a girl around thirteen years old approaching hesitantly, her eyes bright yet uncertain.
"How was your day?" she asked.
Lucian hesitated for a moment before answering. "As usual. The job is done."
She nodded but then frowned. "Lucian, why do nobles always think they're better than everyone else? They act like they're untouchable, but they don't know anything!" she huffed, her frustration evident.
Lucian let out a quiet chuckle, gently patting her head. "Don't waste your thoughts on them. What matters is that you're safe. That's more important."
She pouted but reluctantly turned back toward the hut, though she glanced at him one last time before disappearing inside.
Not long after, a sixteen-year-old boy named Lars approached, his stance confident, as if he carried something important to say.
"Lucian!" he called out, his voice filled with excitement. "I have something really important to tell you!"
Lucian glanced at him, his expression calm but intrigued. "What is it, Lars?"
Lars straightened his back and declared with absolute certainty, "I have an Aquila star! You know that constellation, right? The eagle! That means I'm awesome. There's no way Nana won't be impressed by me!" He puffed his chest with pride.
Lucian smirked slightly at the boy's enthusiasm. "Then make sure you fly higher than the rest, Lars. Don't just talk—prove it."
Lars grinned widely. "Of course! If Nana sees me fly, there's no way she won't be impressed!"
Lucian simply nodded. He knew all too well that this world wasn't as kind as Lars imagined. But the boy's determination, his innocent dreams—they were a rare light in a dark, unforgiving world.
As the night stretched on, Lucian turned his gaze to the sky once more. His heart was heavy, yet something within him had changed. His second star, long dormant, was slowly beginning to emerge.
"Every day, I feel myself getting stronger," he murmured to himself. He didn't know what it meant, but one thing was certain—no matter what happened, he had to survive.
For the children.
For the only family he had left.
"Another night passes," he thought. "Another night I must endure."
Unconsciously, he closed his eyes, letting the wind brush against his pale skin, and whispered, "Just a little longer... I have to keep going."