One Year Later - The Return
Xavier returned to Philos on a night when the stars themselves seemed to dim in mourning.
The capital was in chaos. The wanderer attack that had killed his father had also breached the main gates—something that hadn't happened in over a century.
The sun hung lower in the sky than it should, its light fading to a sickly amber that cast everything in shades of dying gold. People whispered in the streets about omens, about the end times, about how the kingdom was cursed.
But the first thing Xavier asked when he arrived at the palace, before even removing his travel cloak, before speaking to the High Council waiting to brief him on the crisis, was:
"Where is she?"
The chamberlain blinked.
"Your Highness?"
"Nana."
Xavier's voice was tight, controlled, but his hands trembled slightly as he gripped the hilt of his sword—the star tassel still hanging pristine despite a year of constant battles.
"She's a knight warrior at the academy. She would have been fighting when the wanderers breached the gates. Where is she? Is she—" He couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't voice the fear that had been clawing at him since he'd received word of the attack.
"She's alive, Your Highness."
The relief that flooded through Xavier nearly brought him to his knees.
"Knight Nana was instrumental in repelling the wanderers from the residential districts. She's currently—"
Xavier didn't wait to hear the rest. He was already moving, his light evol propelling him through the palace corridors, out into the city streets, following some instinct that pulled him toward her like a moth to flame.He found her outside the rebuilt academy gates, supervising the final repairs to the defensive barriers.
She was covered in dust and what looked like wanderer residue, her uniform torn in several places, a bandage wrapped around her left arm.
But she was alive. She was whole. She was—
"Xavier!"
She looked up, and her eyes went wide. Then she was running, sprinting toward him with that same reckless abandon she'd had at twelve, at fourteen, at seventeen. Some things never changed.
Xavier caught her mid-leap, arms wrapping around her small frame and lifting her off her feet, holding her so tightly he was probably hurting her but he couldn't let go, couldn't convince his arms to loosen when his mind was still screaming all the ways he could have lost her.
"You—"
Nana's voice was muffled against his chest.
"You said a few months! A FEW MONTHS,
XAVIER!"
She pulled back just enough to punch him weakly in the chest, over and over.
"It's been a YEAR! A whole year! Do you know how many letters I wrote? How many times I watched the road hoping to see you? How many—"
"I know." Xavier caught her hands, pressed them against his chest where his heart was racing.
"I know. I'm sorry. The training took longer than expected, and then Father—"
His voice broke slightly on the word.
Nana's anger melted immediately. Her hands stopped pushing and started clutching instead, fisting in his travel cloak.
"I'm so sorry about the King. About your father. I wanted to—I tried to—"
Now her voice was breaking too. ...
"The wanderers came so fast. We couldn't—if I'd been faster, if I'd been stronger—
"Hey."
Xavier cupped her face, tilted it up so he could see her eyes. She'd grown during the year he was gone—not taller, never taller, but older somehow. There was a new weight in her gaze, a hardness that came from facing death and surviving it.
"You saved people. The chamberlain told me. You protected the residential districts. You're a hero, Starlight."
"I couldn't save the King."
"No one could have."
Xavier's thumbs brushed away the tears that had started to fall.
"The wanderers are getting stronger. The sun is dying. Philos is—"
He stopped himself before he could say: Philos is running out of time. Before he could say: And in less than three years, they'll expect me to let you die to save it.
Instead, he pulled her close again, breathed in the scent of her—dust and sweat and underneath it all, still that same warmth that meant home.
"I'm here now. I'm not leaving again"
"Promise?"
"Promise."
They stood there in the street, holding each other while workers moved around them rebuilding walls and replacing barrier stones. The dying sunlight painted them in amber and shadow, and Xavier thought: This. This is what I'm fighting for. Not the kingdom, not the throne, not duty or destiny or the demands of dead kings. Her. Just her.
Even if it damned him. Even if it damned them all.
.
.
.
.
.
One Week Later - The Delayed Birthday
The coronation had been postponed. The kingdom was still in mourning, still reeling from the attack, and the High Council agreed that Xavier needed time to settle into his new role before the formal ceremony.
Which meant that exactly one week after his return, on a quiet evening when the crisis had finally calmed enough to breathe, Nana appeared at his private chambers with a determined look and something hidden behind her back.
"You can't be here,"
Xavier said automatically, even as he stepped aside to let her in.
"It's improper. If the Council finds out—"
"The Council can stuff it."
Nana swept past him, then spun around with a triumphant grin and revealed what she'd been hiding.
"We missed your birthday!"
It was a cake. Slightly lopsided, the frosting a bit uneven, but unmistakably a cake with "Happy 21st Birthday Xavier" written across it in painstakingly careful letters.
Xavier stared.
"You... made this?"
"Well, I tried. The palace kitchens weren't cooperating, and apparently, I'm better at swinging swords than decorating pastries, but—" She set the cake down on his desk, pulled out a single candle and stuck it in the center. "We have a tradition, remember? Birthdays under the oak tree at sunset?"
"Nana, we can't just—"
"We absolutely can."
She lit the candle with a small flame conjured from her aether core—a new trick she must have learned during his absence. The warm light flickered across her determined face.
"You've been dealing with Council meetings and crisis management and funeral arrangements for a week straight. You're allowed one evening to be Xavier instead of His Majesty King Xavier of PhilosHis Majesty"
The title still felt wrong, ill-fitting like clothes made for someone else.
But the way Nana said it—with that teasing lilt, that affectionate irreverence—made it almost bearable.
"Alright,"
Xavier conceded, and was rewarded with her brilliant smile.
"But only because you clearly went to a lot of trouble for this lopsided cake."
"It's not lopsided! It's... charmingly asymmetrical."
Nana started singing—off-key and enthusiastic, the way she always sang
—"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Xavier~"
Xavier couldn't help but smile. Really smile, for the first time since returning home. This ridiculous girl with her ridiculous cake and her complete disregard for royal protocol was the only thing keeping him sane.
"Make a wish!"
Nana insisted.
I wish to save you, Xavier thought desperately. I wish for a world where I don't have to choose between you and everything else. I wish for time we don't have and miracles that don't exist.
He blew out the candle.
"What did you wish for?" Nana asked, already cutting into the cake.
"If I tell you, it won't come true."
"Superstitious."
She handed him a slice, then immediately took a huge bite of her own piece, frosting smearing across her cheek.
"Mmm! Okay, it's actually pretty good! I was worried I'd poisoned it or something."
Xavier watched in amused horror as she devoured her slice in record time, crumbs falling everywhere, completely focused on the cake like it was the most important thing in the world.
"Starlight."
"Hmm?"
"I'm the birthday prince. Shouldn't I eat first?"
Nana looked up, frosting on her nose, crumbs on her cheeks, her eyes widening in realization. Then she burst out laughing, the sound bright and clear and utterly wonderful. "Oh my god, I completely forgot! I was just so excited because it turned out edible!"
Xavier felt something warm bloom in his chest, something that pushed back against all the darkness and fear and impossible choices. This. This was worth fighting for. Worth destroying kingdoms for, if it came to that.
"You're ridiculous," he said fondly, reaching out to brush the crumbs from her face.
"And you're stuck with me."
Nana grinned, leaning into his touch unconsciously.
"Speaking of which—the Council suggested something interesting today."
"Oh?"
"They think the new King needs a personal knight. Someone powerful enough to protect you, someone you trust completely"
Her grin widened.
"And apparently, I'm the strongest knight in Philos right now. So... congratulations, Your Majesty. You're stuck with me officially."
Xavier's hand froze mid-motion. His mind raced through all the implications.
Nana as his personal knight meant she'd be by his side constantly. Meant he could protect her, watch over her, keep her safe from threats both external and internal.
But it also meant she'd be there when the High Priests inevitably came to discuss the Philos Rite. When they presented their "solution" to the dying sun and increasing wanderer attacks. When they told him that in less than three years, on her twenty-third birthday, she needed to die.
"Xavier?"
Nana's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.
"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm fine"
He forced himself to smile, to finish brushing the crumbs from her cheeks.
"And of course I want you as my knight. There's no one I trust more."
Even if it means you'll be close enough to see me breaking. Even if it means you'll watch me try and fail to save you. Even if it means the last thing you see before they take you will be my face, unable to protect you the way I promised.
"Good!"
Nana flopped down onto the couch in his sitting room, patting the space beside her. "Now come on, we still have cake to finish and you need to tell me everything about the Northern Peaks. Your letters were way too vague."
Xavier sat beside her, and she immediately nestled against his shoulder—the same way she had when they were younger, when the world was simpler and the weight of kingdoms didn't rest on his shoulders.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, passing the cake plate between them. The candle had burned out, but the stars outside the window provided enough light to see by. Philos's stars, ancient and cold and demanding.
"Xavier?"
Nana's voice was quiet, drowsy.
"Hmm?"
"I'm glad you're back. I'm glad you're safe. And I'm glad—"
She yawned, snuggling closer.
"I'm glad I get to stay by your side. As your knight. As your friend. As your... starlight."
Xavier's arm came around her shoulders automatically, holding her close.
"I'm glad too."
She fell asleep like that, her head on his shoulder, cake crumbs still on her cheeks, her breathing slow and even and peaceful. Xavier sat frozen, afraid to move and wake her, afraid to break this perfect moment that felt stolen from some other, kinder timeline.
He looked down at her sleeping face—so trusting, so unaware of the axe hanging over both their heads. In less than three years, she would turn twenty-three. In less than three years, the High Priests would come for her. In less than three years, he would have to make a choice that would define the rest of his eternally cursed existence.
Save Philos, or save her.
The kingdom, or his heart.
Duty, or love.
There has to be another way, Xavier thought desperately, his free hand moving to touch the star tassel on his sword—always close, always clean, a promise kept in the small ways when he couldn't keep the larger ones. I'm King now. I have power. I can change laws, rewrite traditions, find alternatives.
I will find a way to save both.
I have to.
But even as he made that vow, even as he held his Starlight close and breathed in her warmth, a small, terrified part of him whispered the truth he didn't want to face:
Some choices can't be avoided. Some sacrifices can't be refused. Some fates are written in stars that don't care about the hearts they break.Xavier pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Nana's head—a gesture she'd never remember, a tenderness he couldn't voice while she was awake.
"I'll save you,"
he promised her sleeping form.
"Even if it costs me everything. Even if it costs me Philos itself. I'll find a way."
The stars outside the window flickered weakly, dying just like the sun, just like the kingdom, just like every hope Xavier clung to with increasingly desperate hands.
But tonight—tonight he had this. Her warmth against his side, her trust in his protection, their stolen moment of peace before the storm.
So Xavier let himself have it. Let himself pretend, just for a few more hours, that love could conquer fate.That stars didn't have to fall.
That tomorrow wouldn't bring them one day closer to a choice that would shatter everything.
⭐⭐⭐
To be continued ___