Hours later...
In the steam of the burning bath, Damon wiped a wet hand across the silvered glass. The reflection staring back was him, but... optimized. His shoulders were broader, his jawline sharper, and the lean muscles of his torso were defined with a surgical precision he hadn't really worked for; even his wet hair was healthier and better.
He traced the unfamiliar lines of his abs, feeling the newfound density in his skin. He let out a long, heavy sigh, pulling his shirt on to hide the transformation.
'Hmm. I'm becoming a masterpiece I never asked to be.'
He was in casual clothes in accents of white, black, red and gold—casual enough for a prince.
Looking striking was a natural thing meant to happen, being the son of someone like Queen Thessa and the images of his father he'd seen around. But now, Damon looked endearing, sweet-faced, a charm he never asked to carry.
He strolled royal halls and reluctantly reciprocated greetings; his subjects knew something was wrong; however, in no position to ask, they could only smile. He made his way to the training halls and watched Solaren lecture from above through a glass; he didn't call, but Solaren noticed him and came forward.
"So, what are we training today?" Damon said with a determination that cancelled out when his voice shook.
Solaren ruffled his own hair. "I don't like that a kid like you is carrying so much for a kingdom you barely know."
He rested a heavy yet gentle hand on Damon's shoulder. "When I look at you, I see a boy carrying a war on his back. Take the day off. Even steel needs cooling. Alright?"
Damon bowed, still unsure how a prince should respect his elders. Daichi, on Damon's head, in wolf form, lowered his head too.
"Princes shouldn't bow," Solaren said, surprised. Damon and Daichi left calmly.
---
He climbed the tallest building he could find, which was the very peak of the castle. He sat cross-legged, letting the sun rest on his skin. Quiet gathered around him.
Damon's face showed he had many thoughts. One of which was: 'I guess this is life now. I don't even know how to feel. But why me?'
Wind lifted his coat, flapping softly.
"I've never asked life for much," he told the horizon. "Except, happy parents, a happy Daiki, a dog, and Natsuki… even she felt like a dream."
He exhaled.
"This path, it's not one I chose and yet... I'm meant to be the Chosen One. It was like... a storm that just dragged me in. And death—" He laughed once, breathless. "Death's chased me more in months than most people see in a lifetime. I'm only seventeen."
He looked upward. "If this is just a test from God or something… well, you already know how stubborn I am. I just can't give up."
He lay flat, hands behind his head, "I don't want to save the world. But I don't want to watch it burn either."
Daichi listened to every one of Damon's words, but a subtle confusion hit him, and he asked: "What do you mean?"
"Well, what kinda guy would watch a world his loved ones admire, burn knowing he could've stopped it?"
The silence afterward felt earned. Daichi watched him, soaking in every word. The heaviness didn't vanish, but the cool breeze helped. Damon stretched out an arm, his fingers spread out. It was as if he tried to touch the blue sky and beautiful clouds.
After a while...
Damon stood, brushing dust from his coat, and let out a sigh. "Come on. If we stay, I'll start thinking too much."
Daichi snorted. "You already think too much. Are you okay?"
Damon smirked. "I'm fine, Daichi. I'm fine." Just like that, the air felt lighter.
"Do you know where you're going?" Daichi asked.
"No." Damon stepped off the ledge. "We'll find out."
The wolf followed.
Rooftops blurred beneath his boots. He jumped down a couple of rooftops with Daichi leaping beside him, walked on some, and then stopped at the edge of one, hundreds of feet of sheer air.
"Don't," Daichi warned.
"It's only a hundred," Damon said. "I can land it."
"Damon. No its three hundred."
"Daichi. Yes, let's fly."
He grabbed the wolf and jumped. Wind punched into him, coat snapping upward. His shirt rose, wind hitting his stomach — the drop thrilling instead of frightening. The world blurred into sky, a beautiful blue sea from afar, and a few birds. Then, stone and more buildings as he got closer to land. The entire fall felt like freedom.
He bent his knees at impact. Subtle shock rippled through his legs, cracking the ground in a spiderweb.
"Wow, I feel like jumping again. From a higher place this time."
Daichi was frozen and utterly stunned. "Snap out of it, it's only three hundred," Damon said, already walking. "Let's go."
"You're going to get us killed," Daichi muttered as he climbed his way to Damon's shoulder.
Damon smirked as they went forward, with the sole aim of exploration.
Sooner than later...
The capital unfolded in front of them like a living tapestry — not futuristic in the cold, metallic way people imagined Earth's future, but in a way that felt grown, rather than built.
Woewyn's architecture curved like nature had shaped it first, and engineers had simply listened not just to nature but to architects specialised in the perfection of preserving beauty.
As Damon and his bond strolled aimlessly in peace and glanced everywhere, he thought:
'Wow. That's the only word I can think of. Isn't there a way Earth can be developed and still be beautiful like this? Maybe I should borrow an architect here and send them to Earth... permanently. Wait— I'm a prince. I could just ask one of 'em, right?'
Daichi replied telepathically, 'Really? And what makes you think one architect would make a difference to Earth humans?'
'It's just a thought, Daichi. It's just a thought.'
Buildings of pale stone rose upward, their surfaces lined with gold veins. Bridges were in certain places where, while not labelled, aesthetically pleasing transport vehicles moved around in calm paces. Some bridges were arched between rooftops like woven branches of smooth concrete, almost reflecting the light of the sun.
Damon slowed his steps because Woewyn demanded it. Every corner held something worth staring at. He even began walking backwards, feeling like he hadn't stared at stone curves resembling water waves with intricate designs. Even the statues of dragons and lions looked majestic.
The streets were wide and clean, paved with smooth stone that seemed alive underfoot — not from technology, but from the natural energy running through the ground. Trees with silver‑green leaves lined every path, their branches humming softly with life. Flowers bloomed in impossible colours, their petals shifting gently as if breathing.
'What—? Are those Middlemist Reds? Those are Natsuki's favourites. They seem common here; they even have a scent,' he said as he went closer to the tree.
'I think Natsuki would change her mind on her favourite if she explored a little.'
'Damon. Why don't we try out what categories of dog food they have? Since this place is super developed, dog food would be super tasty, don't you think? Don't you think? Damon?' Daichi whispered mentally.
While Daichi questioned, Damon had entered the land of daydreams while he strolled. Daichi looked into his mind and saw a change. A funfair that Natsuki and Damon used to visit, rippling into the area in front of them, with Natsuki exploring with them. His best friend, Daiki, was being chaotic but in a heartwarming way.
Totally unaware of Daichi's calls, he chuckled shortly, with an impressed smile, 'Nah. She's too grounded. But seriously, though, this place is magnificent. Oh, Daichi, what were you saying? Food? Let's go find some.'
'About time. You wouldn't be crossing the road and daydreaming on Earth like this, would you?'
'I'm not a prince on Earth. But I am a prince on Woewyn.'
They argued for a while, and everywhere they walked, people greeted them. And yet, despite the beauty, the city was undeniably advanced.
Sky‑Sheets hovered above the plazas, displaying news and footage in blue floating light. Suited Ones and Natural Knights patrolled with armour that looked grown from starlight rather than forged, though the Natural Knights reminded Damon of medieval armour. Market stalls used hovering platforms instead of tables, their goods suspended in gentle orbits around the vendors.
It was a city where what Damon thought was magic, but quickly corrected himself to be eterna, and engineering didn't clash — they danced in harmony. A place where progress didn't erase nature, but amplified it.
They walked for a while, then suddenly, a scent hit them. It was savoury, sweet, and rich. Daichi drooled instantly, following it like a trance. Damon followed him.
Whispers rose as they strolled deeper into a marketplace:
"It's the prince."
"Has he come to look for a hand?"
"What's he doing with no guards?"
The whispers brushed his ears lightly. Damon didn't stiffen or boast; he simply nodded to everyone who bowed—which was mostly everyone—as if greeting neighbours rather than subjects. They weren't just humans; there were fairies, people's bonds, and birds gliding around in beautiful peace.
Damon's eye caught a grey-looking fox creature; it seemed to be taunting Daichi. Damon simply held him back, "C'mon, let's go find what that smells about," he said. As if dismissing Daichi's territorial play.
He and Daichi shared a look and kept moving. They reached a hall with its name carved boldly across the rooftop: THE COREHOUSE OF PLENTY.
Its walls were etched with glyphs that pulsed softly. Inside, three sections glowed with their own life.
At the entrance, the Flameout Section roared with open pits blazing, ember meats sizzling under molten spice.
To the left, the Harvest Section steamed with dumplings, roasted roots, and warm breads.
To the right, the Fruit Stand shimmered with crystal pears and shard-berries glowing like sky-plucked stars. This one seemed to be run by fairies.
Daichi stared unblinking at the Flameout Section.
"Did you always love meat this much?" Damon asked.
"I've got wolf in me now," Daichi said dryly. "My cravings for flesh have spiked."
"That's terrifying," Damon muttered. "We'll get some of all of them."
"You didn't take any money," Daichi reminded him.
"There's no such thing as a broke prince," Damon said, whipping out Varnex's wallet.
"How do you still have that?"
Damon smiled without answering.
He walked towards the Flameout Section. The stall master, a big man with gloves on, hairy forearms, and a gold-toothed grin. He bowed, and Damon returned it. "How's your day?"
"Fantastic, my prince!" the man boomed, putting on a toque and preparing something special for them.
"Why's everyone so cheerful?" Damon asked.
"Trineum's match is in a week," the man said cheerfully. "It's a very great event!"
"Trineum's match? Must be important if people feel it early." Damon asked.
"It is. There's a thrill in seeing youngsters go at it. This is just the centre of the capital. Woewyn has many countries, you should see the bliss and joyful chaos at the others," the man said, handing over a basket of sizzling wonders.
'Countries? I should ask Mom about that later,' Damon thought, "Thank You. How much?"
"For the prince? Nothing."
"If I'm the prince, shouldn't you extort me?" Damon asked with true curiosity.
The man simply laughed.
"Thank you," Damon said again, bowing deeper. The man's lips widened in a glad smile as he bowed. His moustache stretched with it.
Daichi hopped up, nose twitching. His eyes locked on the Dragonfire Jerky, colourful meat cured with volcanic salt and something secret. The wolf's drool dripped.
"Stop," Damon hissed, wiping the counter.
The man only laughed. Again.
They left the Corehouse after buying from its other sections, weaving toward the market's edge.
Damon carried the basket too. Daichi paced close, captivated by the smell.
They walked through a patch of beautiful trees, too pretty to call a bush or forest, but abundant in natural landscape, searching for a quiet place to devour the basket of food.
"This apple's larger than my fist," he admired as he threw a pitaya to Daichi. The dog leaped to catch it in desperation.
Then they heard it:
A swirling, rhythmic sound. Like water stirred by an unseen hand. A heartbeat beneath it, steady, alive. They both froze.
"Do you hear that?" Damon asked.
Damon pushed aside the bushes. Leaves brushed his fingers. The sound sharpened, ripples folding over themselves.
His breath caught. "Cythera?" he whispered.