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Installed in the first café that had crossed her path, Marzia was finishing her cup of tea. Her friend had arranged to meet her later in the evening, but she had decided to spend the afternoon in town. She had some purchases to make.

She didn't expect to find a tea  as good as the ones her mother made when she was little – but oddly enough, the one she ordered, a specialty of the planet, was delicious.

She checked the time on the thin screen on her wrist, then answered a message from Rhysa telling her where she was. The group soon arrived in front of the café. Marzia smiled, then hurried to get up and join them. She saluted them quickly – but noticed that the group was much smaller than usual. There were only two boys, Max and Ion, Rhysa, and a girl whose name she didn't know.

Radiant, as always, Rhysa spoke first.

"We're going to a place tonight that's a little different than usual."

"Different how?"

Marzia raised an eyebrow with a suspicious look that made her friend laugh. But in reality, she trusted her and didn't really care about their destination: she was especially eager to get there. Her curious nature took over every time she was about to discover a new corner of the city.

"You said you wanted to try every specialty on the planet, didn't you? Well, I'm on my way to pick up something and you're coming with us."

"You'll see, it's insane," the other girl intervened.

The young woman raised an eyebrow without responding. She followed the small group through the streets of the city centre while the darkness enveloped them little by little. The only sound she heard was the sound of their shoes slamming against the perfectly smooth ground. Marzia mechanically readjusted her hair without stopping walking, lost in her thoughts.

Rhysa checked inside her bag several times on the way, as if she wanted to check the presence of something.

Marzia's attention wandered over the lighted storefronts of the shops when she felt others around her stop. She imitated them, then turned her head across the street, where Rhysa was moving.

"Are you coming?" she said, glancing over their shoulders.

And she opened a simple metal door to enter the building. One of the boys had the reflex to catch it before it closed, and Marzia approached the entrance. She raised her head to see what the panel anchored in the wall above the door indicated.

The Other Dide of the Moon: Tattoos.

It was a tattoo parlor. So that was what excited her friends so much? That was rather strange, considering tattoos were pretty popular on most planets: interactive ones were especially fashionable these days.

She could not help but smile, amused, and passed the step of the door.

"Thank you," she murmured to the boy holding the door for her.

Marzia walked down a long hallway, lit only by blue neon lights, hanging from the ceiling. She accelerated to reach Rhysa. But the latter did not give her time to speak before rushing through a new door. The young woman squinted her eyes to shield them from the light that escaped from the inside. She followed her friend.

The inside of the tattoo parlor was no different from the ones she had already visited. A little smaller, perhaps. But she still didn't see what was so exciting about it.

"Is anyone there?" asked Rhysa.

A noise sounded in another room. Taking advantage of the silence, the young woman asked her friend:

"So you want a tattoo? That's the big surprise?"

But while she was expecting a positive response, Rhysa merely drew a mysterious smile - as if she had something else in mind. 

Marzia brought her hair to one of her shoulders to clear her neck. She passed her fingers gently on it, revealing a trail of stars. She had been tattooed a year before, with some of her close friends, when they had all been accepted into the professional field they wanted.

She let her hand fall down along her body. The stars, animated, performed a strange choreography on her neck before becoming invisible again. Each of them was an important part of Marzia's life. And the ensemble was a memory of the interplanetary journeys she made when she was a child.

The first spaceship her father took her to was called the Starry. She still remembered its special, reassuring and luminous atmosphere.

"Good evening."

Marzia almost startled at the sound of the male voice. She crossed her arms under her chest. A figure entered the room, then approached the group.

"Hi," replied Rhysa.

Her voice, though cheerful, showed a touch of nervousness.

"How many tattoos do you guys want?" asked the man.

Marzia froze when the silhouette approached the light.

The creator of the dragon.

Who won, as it was announced that morning.

The young woman spoke before her friend did, without thinking.

"Congratulations on your victory."

As soon as she had spoken the words, her blood froze in her veins. She had no evidence that it was indeed the creator of the dragon, except a strange feeling. Perhaps he had not even entered the contest... she rebuked herself mentally for her impulsiveness.

But the boy glanced at her and a glimmer of surprise shone in his eyes. It disappeared quickly.

"Thank you."

Marzia smiled softly. Then she was right about his identity. But this realization squeezed her stomach more than it relieved her. She had thought she was dreaming when, the night before, she had detected the reflection of the dragon's flames in his eyes.

Rhysa's attention passed from the young woman to the boy. But she did not comment on their quick exchange, apparently increasingly nervous about something.

"No, we're not here for tattoos. I came last month to... to place an order."

She stared at him as if trying to convey a secret message through her eyes. The boy merely observed her summarily. He nodded: Marzia guessed that he had recognized her friend. But what could she have ordered? Drugs?

The dragon's creator royally ignored of the other people in the room. He was only addressing Rhysa.

"Are they trustworthy?"

She nodded.

"Don't worry. We can even get you more customers," said one of the boys.

But the man obviously did not like seeing so many people in his parlor. He quickly measured them up with his eyes, without giving up his serious air.

"I am Viktor Creek."

He was obviously waiting for the rest of the group to identify themselve.

"I am Ion. Ion Kryg."

The other two indicated their names. Finally, Viktor's attention landed a second time on Marzia, who kept her arms crossed. What had Rhysa dragged her into? It was definitely something illegal. She held Viktor's gaze for a few seconds.

"Marzia Wolf."