Chapter Text
Prologue
In the world of Noctaris, society was not merely divided by wealth or occupation but stratified by an immutable law of birthmarks, symbols etched into flesh from the moment of existence. These marks defined lives, determined futures, and carved destinies before the first cry echoed through the air. Life in Noctaris was a constant reminder of the invisible chains that bound them to their place in this unforgiving hierarchy.
At the pinnacle of Noctaris society stood the Prime Grades, the untouchables of the world. Identified by a small heart-shaped mole above their own hearts, they were the kings, queens, and scions of wealth and power. From the moment they were born, their lives were cloaked in privilege and veiled from the struggles of the rest. Their mansions rose like monuments above the common cityscape, towering fortresses of gold and marble, where sunlight seemed to linger longer and the air itself felt sweeter.
They were taught to rule with indifference, their gazes rarely falling upon the masses below. To earn even a glance from one of them was considered a rare stroke of fortune, though such moments often came laced with contempt. Their rules were their own, their society a labyrinth of prestige, alliances, and games of power. Within their ranks, the heart-shaped mark was not just a birthright but a divine decree, a symbol of superiority bestowed by fate itself.
Just below them were the High Grades, marked by a small cube in the middle of their chests. They were the doctors, engineers, scholars, and leaders of industry—society’s backbone, revered for their intellect and skill. Yet, their standing was conditional. A High Grade born into a family of lesser means might still feel the weight of judgment, their respectability tethered to wealth and lineage.
Their lives were governed by precision and pride. To the High Grade, every decision was a step on a narrow bridge; one misstep could send them tumbling into obscurity. Their mark was a symbol of potential, but it also came with the heavy burden of expectation. To carry the cube was to be a cog in the grand machine of Noctaris, essential yet replaceable.
The Intermediate Grades bore a thin line on the inner side of their wrists—a mark as unassuming as their lives. They were the laborers, the shopkeepers, the clerks who woke each morning to toil in silence. Their role was to sustain the framework of society built above them. They bowed their heads to the High Grade and averted their gazes from the Prime Grade, moving through life with a quiet dignity.
Respect for the Intermediate Grade was hard-won, measured by family history and personal conduct. A proud lineage could elevate an individual above their peers, but the line between pride and arrogance was perilously thin. Their lives were the essence of normalcy, a rhythm of work, family, and modest celebration, their aspirations often confined to the boundaries of their birthmark.
At the bottom of Noctaris’s hierarchy were the Low Grades, distinguished by a circle beneath their right ear. Their beauty was their curse, their mark an unspoken contract with society. The Low Grade existed to serve, their lives dictated by their physical allure and their ability to please.
Their paths were limited to be admired as living ornaments, to labor in menial service, or to marry into a better future. The first future saw them paraded as trophies, their lives a performance of elegance and grace. The second future offered hard work and little recognition, while the third promised the faint hope of escape through union with someone of a higher status.
The circle was both a brand and a chain, a symbol of their constrained destiny. Yet among the Low Grade, there were whispers of defiance—small acts of rebellion against the roles imposed upon them. A maid who refused to bow too deeply, a beauty who choose solitude over admiration, a worker who dreamed beyond the confines of their mark.
And then, there were the rarest of all: the Bearers of the Star. Unlike the other symbols, the star was not inherited but appeared seemingly at random, skipping generations or emerging in families unmarked for centuries. It was a symbol of power, ambition, and madness—a mark that promised greatness but often delivered tragedy.
Bearers of the Star were driven by an insatiable hunger, their desires consuming them like wildfire. They were creators, destroyers, visionaries, and tyrants, their brilliance matched only by the chaos they left in their wake. Society viewed them with a mix of awe and envy, their presence a disruption to the rigid order of Noctaris.
Yet, the star was a curse as much as a gift. Bearers rarely lived long, their lives cut short by the jealousy and fear of those around them. Some were assassinated, others driven to madness by the weight of their ambition. The star, it seemed, demanded a price—a life burned brightly, extinguished swiftly.
Their mark, a star low on their backs, was shrouded in mystery and fear.
In Noctaris, your mark was your destiny, your identity, your cage. To be born with a heart, a cube, a line, a circle, or a star was to be bound to a story written before you could speak. Yet, even in this world of rigid roles and unyielding fate, there were those who dared to dream, to question, to defy. And in their defiance, perhaps, lay the hope of a new story yet to be told.
.・。.・゜✭・.
In a small cottage, the flame of a fire could be felt as an unusual fire took place in the kitchen.
A brown haired woman rushed to the flame, soothing a damp clock on the cook-top. Her hands were tainted by the burn marks, the result of a failed meal for the third time this week. She was bound to give up but the hierarchy of Noctaris was merciless. Everyone has their place in society and if you didn’t fit in, the cage of the unmarked awaited in a far far cave that was forbidden from being visited. She wasn’t going to give up, practice makes perfect.
Beside her the young man lets out a heavy sigh.
She shakes her head, offering a smile despite the situation of the kitchen, determined to make it work. “It’s fine, even I couldn’t make proper steak and soup until I got married with a little bit of learning and taking cooking classes. We can start with simple meals.”
The young man lets out another sigh, taking a seat on the kitchen counter as his mother prepares another set of ingredients. In the meanwhile, he grabs the knife beside him and starts crafting a design on the piece of bread, then spreading strawberry jam on it. He takes a bite, savoring the taste while his mother struggles to get all the ingredients so he can start on a small recipe. Once she’s done, she turns around, gesturing to the ingredients on the counter.
“Do you know what you’ll be cooking?”
He shakes his head, taking another bite of the bread.
“Can you guess?”
“Mom, I’m not interested in making Gimbap. I’d rather go outside and walk around.”
His mother sends him a glare, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You must learn. Or else—”
“Or else,” the young man trails off, “I’ll be held down in a cave or punished to death. Stupid isn’t it?”
Janet’s life had always been hard. Dressing and dolling up to fit her beauty standards only to be pushed aside as she didn’t meet the standards. She tried studying but she was average and again without an appealing appearance, it was a matter of time before she was replaced and thrown aside as nothing. She thought after marrying, her life would be easy. She would have to take care of the children while her husband worked. It wasn’t hard at first, taking care of a child, a little hard taking care of a teenager and now impossible to manage a young man who believed he knew better than society rules.
“You listen to your mother, young man.” Jaekang orders, as he steps inside the kitchen with his usual work attire.
Her husband was everything she could wish for in a man. He was respectful and didn’t use his high grade status to abuse his power in the household. She never thought she could get lucky with love, but in this aspect life was rewarding. Though it soon turned to a curse, when they’ve given birth to a challenging kid.
Growing up, Jeonghan was a calm child, his parents celebrated their victory too soon. He did as told and fit in lifestyle made for him. He never protested when she used to dress him up prettily or when she tried cute hairstyles on his hair. He swallowed their words without questions. Only when he became a teenager and frequented diverse birthmarks school did questions arise. He demanded to have short hair, demanded to play sports and take high qualified exams.
To the outside eyes, it was a low grade rebellion which they’ve known are ambition and empty words. However, to his parents, it was his pride to be recognized. Believing firmly the only thing which portrayed him as a low grade was the circle mole beneath his right ear and his pretty looks. If he didn’t speak, he was playing the perfect role. When his mouth opened, head turned in confusion.
“You were the ones who said I could choose my lifestyle among three futures.” Jeonghan states, getting down from the counter while twirling the knife in his hand. It seems to be the only interesting thing for him in the kitchen. “Live as an ornament to be ogled in a big mansion. Work in boring services or to marry into a better future.”
“Cooking is a must in all three of them.” Janet shouts through gritted teeth.
Jeonghan shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “If I choose boring services, they will be impressed by my talents and they’ll give me a higher job.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Jaekang mumbles with an angry tone. “No one will hire a low grade to a meaningful job.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. Having heard the line his entire life, one would’ve thought he knew what awaited him. Maybe he does. “Because no one has been brave to try.”
“You’re not changing the view, you’re not the first to think that and you won’t be the first to think they’ll succeed.” Jaekang says, pushing the bowl of rice toward him.
“You don’t know that.” Jeonghan says, plunging the knife in the bowl of rice, making bits of rice fall all over the counter and down on the ground. “I can be very convincing.” He states and leaves the kitchen to climb on the wood ladder to access the small place that is called his room. He lays on his chest, staring at the window while drawing on a paper.
Outside the cottage, Janet sits, her elbows on her knees and her chin resting on the palm of her hands. She shouldn’t be surprised as it was a daily routine for over a month now. His rebellious attitude had only started during the summer and she can only imagine how it would be when he’ll be outside frequenting people on his own.
“Janet?” A woman, black short hair stopping at her shoulder, calls out as she walks by.
“Eunha?” Janet exclaims as she rises to her feet. “Oh my, it’s been so long.”
The woman smiles, a shy smile which had everyone lining up for it. She was among the standard when it came to attitude, personality and even appearance. A role model in everything she’s done. She was good in everything she did and therefore it didn’t make sense for Janet when she stopped showing up all of a sudden.
“Where have you been?” She asks, content to see her old friend.
Eunha shrugs, with a small shake of her head. “I think I’m busy with life. Raising a child isn’t easy.”
Janet nods, patting the side beside her for the young woman to sit down. She lets out a sigh which she has been doing for the past hour. “I know. You never know when it could go wrong.”
Given the sad smile she receives, her friend must be dealing with the same thing. Janet scoots closer, holding her hand. “You can tell me anything if you have any worries. I have a child of my own, well he’s a grown up now, and he’s in the rebellion phase. I hope it passes without problems.”
Eunha smiles with a small nod. “I didn’t think my son would be a low grade, I hope he would at least follow in his father’s steps and be an intermediate. He’s bright and intelligent but he’s condemned to live my life.”
“I understand more than anyone.” Janet shares. “My son doesn’t deserve to be a low grade, I mean he can barely flip a pan without making a disaster, or break an egg without leaving shells all over.”
The sentence at least made Eunha crack a laugh. “Mine is perfect, he cooks everything and does the tasks demanded without as much as protesting once.”
“He’s grown like you.” Janet permits herself to comment. “You were adored by everyone. He’ll be fine, just like you. He’ll follow in your footsteps.”
Eunha shakes her head. “That’s where everyone is wrong. I didn’t have it easy. When you’re too perfect, people start treating you like an object because they believe everything your way you’ll overcome.”
“Can I share with you a secret?”
Eunha looks at her with an inviting smile. “Yes. We, the low grade, only have each other.”
Janet laughs, holding her hand. “My son, he’s not fit for the three solutions of our planned future. He can’t stand still and do as told perfectly. He finds the services we’re bound to boring and he can barely cook and do housework to fit a perfect marriage.”
For a moment there’s a silence that hangs over the two women. Each preoccupied by their own burdens and the future of their sons. The hierarchy opposed on each civilian seems harsh and the rules could only be changed by the ones in seemingly high position. Tonight for the first time, the women felt a sparkle of hope as a flyer was tossed in their direction by the air. The Prime Grade, for the first time in decades, are opening a contest. No good solution came without a price, however both women were eager to share the news that may open a path to a brighter future.
Janet rushes inside after hugging her friend goodbye and places the flyer on the table. “Honey,” she calls out, jumping up and down. “This. It came to our doorstep, it must be fate.”
Jaekang sits up, taking the flyer and reading the content. Then, with a disapproving shake of his head he says, “this is going to be our undoing.”
“You don’t know that.” Janet argues, taking a seat beside him and holding at his arm. “It’s the only chance we have.”
“Leaving him to live among all birthmarks, alone, unsupervised. It’s going to be a disaster. He can barely hold himself without coming off rude and he’s a low grade. They don’t raise their heads.” Jaekang tries to reason. “You’ll never know what he’s up to.”
Janet sighs, looking around the room as though it would offer an answer. “He can control himself if it’s the only option he has. He just needs to know the risks and he won’t cross them. If we hold him back in a place where he doesn’t belong, we’ll only be destroying him and pushing him further to disobey us.”
“I don’t want anything bad happening to him.” Jaekang murmurs. “He’s my only son.”
“I know,” Janet smiles, “I don’t want you to think I’m not afraid but it’s time he creates his own future. He’ll be fine. We have to believe he will.”
Jaekang nods, after a tense moment of silence. “Alright.”
Janet smiles, before clearing her throat and walking out of their room to the living room. She looks up at the closed curtains and calls out for her son. When he doesn’t respond, she has to climb the wood ladder and open the curtain herself. There, he lays, tossing a ball and catching it while wearing his earphones, listening to music.
“Hannie, darling.” She calls, touching his leg.
Jeonghan sits up, turning off the music from the phone but she’s already going down. He takes off his earphones and jumps down the three meter floor to stand in front of them uninjured.
Janet and Jaekang share a worried glance at the display of unrestrained strength. Janet shakes her head, convinced to go through with the solution that comes knocking on their doorstep. “We have good news.”
Jeonghan nods.
“There’s a contest organized by the Prime Grades. It’s done from time to time to give a little bit of diversity and a chance for everyone to get to know each other and mix the grades so that no mark is extinct.” Janet explains in a rush, feeling a bit nervous. “And, your father and I, we thought that it would be a great chance for you to join the contest.”
Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You mean a chance to be looked down by other grades.”
“A chance to prove yourself.” Jaekang counters with a nod. “You can finally catch the attention—”
“You mean sleep my way to the top?” Jeonghan scoffs in disbelief. “That would never happen.”
“NO.” Jaekang shouts, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant. Look if you have a Prime Grade as your partner, you’ll be free to do as you wish. Not to say you’ll be the first to do so.”
The word catches Jeonghan’s attention just as his parents expected. They watch him expectantly as he takes a step forward and takes the flyer in his hand. “The first.”
The first in decades, but he didn’t need to know that.
Janet nods, glancing at her husband. “The Prime Grades aren’t only impressed by looks, they are born with marvelous looks. They aren’t easily impressed and they want a partner that is highly qualified to be named their partner. They don’t choose anyone, rarely has it been that they look in our direction. You have everything that it’s impossible to not be impressed by you.”
Jeonghan scoffs, tilting his head to the side. “Catch their heart? Then when I get married, it’s a matter of time before I become a slave in their mansion.” He resumes for himself. Then with a nonchalant shrug, he adds. “I’m not interested. I don’t want that.”
“They live in a mansion, darling,” Janet says, holding his arms. “They already have maids. No, you’ll be treated like royalty. You’ll be one of them.”
“You can have everything you desire.” Jaekang adds. “You’ll be free from your birthmark forever.”