22 August, Space Era Years 102.
The atmosphere of planet Evening remained as sweltering as ever — a golden desert world of searing heat and endless sandstorms beneath twin suns.Aerys Vilozyver walked along the suspended promenade of the vast metropolis Astra–Vein, draped in a pitch–black long coat that stood in stark defiance of the oppressive heat. Yet not a single drop of sweat traced his pale face; his steps were calm, deliberate — as though the world's temperature had no dominion over him.
A soft chime broke the silence — the voice of his mother, Lord Aelyzabeth Thors, came through the communicator on his wrist.
"Aerys… my dear, how are you faring on Evening? Are you eating well?"
"I'm not sure, Mother. I saw a place selling meals for three pounds — I thought I'd give it a try."
"Three pounds? Aerys, a common meal should cost no more than twelve cents! If you dislike the food there, I shall send Centory Palace's finest chef to prepare something for you. I can't bear the thought of you enduring hardship."
"That won't be necessary, Mother. Please don't trouble yourself. I can manage.You've barely slept three hours a day — you should rest more."
"All right, my son… Take care of yourself, Aerys."
The signal clicked off, leaving only the hiss of hot desert wind sweeping through the glass corridors.
Aerys slipped the communicator into his coat pocket and entered a towering shopping complex in search of food. There, amid the air–conditioned expanse, he came across James Stark — son of an Earth–born magnate, renowned more for inherited wealth than intellect.
James hesitated for a moment before approaching.
"Hey… you're Aerys Vilozyver, right?"
Aerys glanced up slightly. "Yes. Do you need something?"
"Not really. I just… wanted to talk. People say you're strange — and that you're really an heir of Centory. Is that true?"
"I suppose I am strange," Aerys replied evenly.
James chuckled nervously.
"But aren't you hot in that thing? That's a full–length coat! This planet feels like it's trying to melt us alive."
"This coat was designed by Luminus Rommel," Aerys said calmly. "It regulates temperature. Cool in the heat, warm in the cold."
"Luminus Rommel? The top designer of this century? My father tried to hire her — she turned him down every time."
"My mother acquired her services long before she became famous. She's been with our family ever since."
James gave a crooked smile.
"I see… must be nice having those kinds of connections. Aerys, do you ever talk to anyone?"
"I'm talking to you right now," Aerys replied without irony. "Would you like to eat? My treat. Consider it gratitude for your courage to start a conversation."
James laughed aloud.
"You? Treat me? Do you even have money?"
"Our family is poor," Aerys said plainly. "But I can afford lunch."
"Poor?" James blinked. "How poor?"
"This month, I have around four thousand six hundred pounds in allowance — and about six million pounds in savings, not counting Mother's bonds and investments."
James' mouth fell open. He was heir to twelve million dollars — a fortune on Earth — yet beside Aerys's figures, his inheritance suddenly seemed almost modest.
"Aerys… you're absurdly rich. Why would you call that poor?"
Aerys's tone remained serene.
"Mother taught me that our family is very poor, and that one must always live with restraint — for wealth is a fleeting illusion."
The hum of the shopping center enveloped their quiet laughter. Two boys — one born of unimaginable privilege, the other of equal stature yet unassuming humility — shared their first genuine moment of friendship.
That meal was the simplest either had ever eaten, yet it marked the beginning of a bond no one could have foreseen —a friendship between the cold–hearted prince and the lonely heir.
And on that day, the blistering world of Evening became, for Aerys Vilozyver, the warmest place in all the cosmos.
Thus ends Chapter B-VI.