The seaside town of Lumeria was alive with whispers of the festival that would soon arrive. Lanterns hung from wooden posts, their glow reflecting on the waves. The townsfolk bustled about, preparing stalls and decorations. Among them walked Cancer, her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, her eyes soft as the moonlight. She was known for her kindness—always helping, always listening—but tonight, her heart felt heavy.
She wandered to the pier, where the sea stretched endlessly. There, she saw him. Scorpio.
He stood alone, tall and broad‑shouldered, his dark cloak fluttering in the wind. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, sharp and unyielding, as though he were daring the night to reveal its secrets. His presence was magnetic, yet intimidating.
Cancer hesitated, then spoke softly. "Beautiful night, isn't it?"
Scorpio turned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The night hides more than it shows." His voice was low, edged with mystery.
Before Cancer could reply, Gemini appeared, juggling seashells for a group of children nearby. "Don't listen to him, Cancer! Nights are for laughter, for stories, for tricks!" Gemini's grin was wide, his energy infectious.
Scorpio's lips twitched, almost a smile. Cancer tilted her head. "And yet, sometimes the night reveals what the day cannot."
From behind, Virgo approached, carrying a basket of herbs. "Cancer, don't waste your words. Scorpio lives in shadows. He won't understand your light."
Scorpio's jaw tightened. "I don't need your judgment, Virgo."
Cancer placed a hand on Virgo's arm, calming her. "He's not dangerous. He's wounded."
Virgo frowned but said no more.
Scorpio studied Cancer, surprised by her defense. For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the waves. Then Scorpio nodded once, almost reluctantly, before walking away.
Cancer watched him go, unsettled. She did not know why, but she felt she had glimpsed a soul carrying storms inside.