The Widow's Peak - Evening
Xavier finally stopped at a rocky outcropping known as the Widow's Peak—a desolate place where the plateau dropped off sharply, offering a view of miles of Philos's dying landscape.
The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of blood and fire.
He dismounted first, then helped Nana down. She stumbled slightly, her legs unsteady from the ride, and Xavier caught her automatically.
Then he just stood there, hands on her arms, breathing hard, looking at her like—
Like he'd never see her again.
"Xavier."
Nana's voice was steadier now, though fear still threaded through it.
"You need to tell me what's happening. Right now. No more running, no more evasions. What. Did. You. Do?"
He didn't answer. Just walked to the edge of the cliff and sat down heavily on a large rock, his head dropping into his handsNana followed slowly, her mind racing. She'd seen the priests watching her lately. Heard whispers about "important ceremonies" and "the twenty-third year." Noticed Xavier's increasing desperation, his sleepless nights, his obsessive research.
Pieces were clicking together, forming a picture she didn't want to see.
"Xavier,"
she tried again, gentler.
"Please. I need to understand."
His hands were shaking. She could see it even from here.
"I..." His voice cracked. "I couldn't. Nana, I couldn't—they wanted me to—"
She knelt in front of him, taking his trembling hands in hers. His eyes when he finally looked up were red-rimmed, desperate, completely shattered.
"Tell me,"
she whispered.
So he did.He told her everything. The Philos Rite. The sacrifice. The aether core. The altar, the blade, the ancient law that demanded one life every hundred years to sustain the sun. He told her how he'd known for two years, how he'd been desperately searching for alternatives, how today the priests had come with their ceremony prepared.
How they'd expected him to hand her over.
How he'd refused.
How he'd thrown down his crown and chosen her over everything.
By the time he finished, Nana was staring at him with wide, horrified eyes.
"You... you gave up Philos. For me."
"Yes."
"You condemned millions of people. For me."
"Yes."
"Xavier, you CAN'T—that's not—you're the KING! You can't just—"
Her voice was rising, panic and disbelief warring in her expression.
"Take it back! Go back! Tell them you'll—you'll—"
"No."
"XAVIER!"
"I said NO!"
His own voice broke, loud and raw and desperate. He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her close, trapped her in his gaze. His eyes—those blue eyes that had always been cold, controlled, perfect—were swimming with tears that threatened to spill over.
"I will not sacrifice you,"
he said, and his voice shook with barely contained emotion.
"I will not hand you over to die on some altar for a kingdom that's been killing girls like you for millennia. I will not—" His breath hitched.
"I cannot lose you. I can't. I've spent every moment since I learned the truth trying to find another way, and there isn't one. There's only the choice: you or Philos."
"And you chose me"
Nana whispered.
"I will always choose you."
The tears fell then. For the first time in his entire life, Xavier—Crown Star of Philos, blessed by the stars themselves—broke down completely.
He pulled Nana against his chest and sobbed like a child, his shoulders shaking, his hands fisting in her clothes like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
"I'm sorry,"
he gasped between broken breaths.
"I'm so sorry. I'm selfish and horrible and I'm probably damning millions but I can't—Nana, I can't watch you die. I can't hold the knife. I can't—"
"Shh."
Nana's own tears were flowing now, her arms wrapping around him, holding him as tightly as he was holding her.
"Shh, it's okay. It's okay."
"It's not okay! Nothing is okay! The kingdom will fall and it's my fault and the knights will come for us and I don't know how to save both of you and I'm so scared—"
"Xavier."
She pulled back just enough to cup his face, forcing him to look at her.
"Breathe. Just breathe."
He tried. Failed. Tried again. His hands came up to cover hers, pressing them against his cheeks like he needed the contact to stay grounded.
"I won't let them take you,"
he said fiercely, despite the tears still streaming down his face.
"I've been studying. There's another planet—Luna. Small, stable, far enough from Philos that maybe—just maybe—we can hide there. Start over. I can protect you there."
"Luna," Nana repeated numbly.
"I can teleport us. My light evol is strong enough for that distance, even if it takes everything I have. We can—"
"Xavier, if Philos falls, millions of people will die."
"I know."
"Children. Families. Everyone we've ever known."
"I KNOW!"
His voice cracked again, raw and agonized.
"Don't you think I know? Don't you think that knowledge is tearing me apart? But Nana—" His hands tightened on hers desperately.
"What they're asking isn't salvation. It's murder dressed up as necessity. And once I let them kill you, what stops them from doing it again in a hundred years? And again after that? The cycle never ends. Someone has to break it, even if—"
His breath hitched.
"Even if breaking it destroys everything."
They knelt there together on the rocky plateau, the dying sun painting them in shades of ending light, holding each other while their world fell apart.
"Do you hate me?" Xavier asked quietly, almost afraid of the answer.
"For choosing this? For being so selfish?"
Nana was quiet for a long moment. Then, impossibly, she laughed—a broken, waterysound.
"I should," she admitted.
"I should hate you for condemning Philos. Should hate myself for being the reason. Should—" Her voice caught.
"But I don't. Gods help me, Xavier, I don't. Because you're the only person who's ever looked at me and seen a person instead of a weapon or a sacrifice or a solution."
She leaned her forehead against his, both of them still crying, still trembling.
"So if we're damned,"
she whispered,
"let's be damned together."
Xavier's breath shuddered out in something between a laugh and a sob. His hand moved to his sword, touching the star tassel—her gift, kept pristine through years of battles and now this final rebellion.
"Together," he agreed.
They stayed like that as the sun set completely, as the stars appeared overhead—cold and distant and judging. Behind them, far in the distance, they could hear thesounds of pursuit growing closer.
Time was up.
"Luna?"
Nana asked.
"Luna,"
Xavier confirmed, standing and pulling her up with him. His hands were steadier now, his tears drying, the decision made.
"Hold onto me. This is going to take everything I have."
Nana wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed close.
"I trust you."
Those three words nearly undid him again. But Xavier gathered his light evol, feeling it surge through him like liquid starlight. Teleportation across planets—it shouldn't be possible. The distance was too great, the energy required too massive.
But Xavier was the Crown Star. Blessed by the heavens themselves. And desperation could make even impossible things happen.The world around them began to glow, bright and blinding. The sounds of pursuit were very close now—he could hear shouting, the thunder of hooves, his name being called by voices he'd once trusted.
"I love you,"
Xavier said quickly, desperately, the words finally spilling out after years of being trapped in his throat.
"I should have said it sooner. Should have told you every day. I love you, Nana. I've loved you since we were kids. Since you fell out of that tree and into my life. You're my starlight, and I—"
"I know,"
Nana said softly, smiling through her tears.
"I've always known. And Xavier?"
She stood on her toes, pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw.
"I love you too."
The light exploded around them.
The last thing Xavier saw of Philos was the plateau, the dying sun, and in the distance, the knights of his former kingdom reaching out too late to stop their king from vanishing into light.
Taking their only hope for salvation with him.
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Luna - Arrival
They materialized on Luna in a burst of fading light, Xavier's teleportation bringing them to the surface of the small planet in a meadow that stretched endlessly under an unfamiliar sky.
Xavier collapsed immediately.
The distance had been too great, the energy expenditure too massive. Even for the Crown Star, teleporting across planets shouldn't have been possible. That it worked at all was a miracle born of desperation—or perhaps a curse ensuring they'd arrive just in time for fate to collect its due.
"Xavier!"
Nana caught him as he fell forward, easing him down onto the soft grass. His breathing was labored, his skin pale, his light evol flickering weakly around him like a candle about to go out.
"I'm... fine,"
he managed, but they both knew it was a lie.Nana pressed her hands against his chest, letting her aether core pulse through him—warm, golden energy flowing from her into him, trying to restore what he'd spent saving her. The irony wasn't lost on either of them. Her power, the very thing that had marked her for death, was now keeping him alive.
"Rest,"
she commanded softly.
"Just rest. We made it. We're safe."
Xavier's hand came up to cover hers, holding it against his chest where his heart was still racing from the exertion.
"We made it," he repeated, as if trying to convince himself.
They sat in silence as Xavier's breathing slowly steadied, as color returned to his face, as the immediate danger of energy collapse passed. The meadow around them was beautiful—wildflowers swaying in a gentle breeze, the sky a soft purple-blue that neither of them had ever seen on Philos. Luna was young, peaceful, untouched by the dying sun and multiplying wanderers that plagued their home.
Their former home.
"Do you regret it?"
Nana asked quietly.
"Leaving? Choosing this?"
Xavier's grip on her hand tightened.
"Never."
But his eyes, when they finally met hers, held a weight that made her chest ache. Because they both knew what he'd sacrificed.
A kingdom. Millions of lives. His crown, his duty, his destiny.
All for her.
All for one person who might not even have wanted to be saved at such a cost.
"I'm sorry," Nana whispered. "That you had to choose. That I was—"
"Don't." Xavier pulled her down beside him, wrapping his arms around her like he could shield her from guilt, from fate, from the universe itself.
"Don't apologize for existing. For being born with power you didn't ask for. For being—"
His voice cracked slightly.
"For being the only thing in my life that ever made sense"
They lay together in the grass, exhausted and traumatized and trying to convince themselves that this—this stolen peace on a strange planet—was worth the price.
The sun of Luna was setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold that were nothing like Philos's dying amber. It was beautiful. It was wrong. It was their new reality.
"What do we do now?"
Nana asked.
Xavier closed his eyes.
"We survive. We build something here. We—" He stopped, unable to voice the hope that they could have a life, a future, that the curse wouldn't follow them across the stars.
But deep in his bones, in the place where his connection to the stars lived, Xavier felt it.
The cold certainty that some fates couldn't be outrun.
But deep in his bones, in the place where his connection to the stars lived, Xavier felt it.
The cold certainty that some fates couldn't be outrun.
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That Evening
As darkness fell properly over Luna, Xavier's energy had recovered enough to move. They needed shelter, fire, some semblance of safety before night brought whatever dangers this planet held.
Nana tried to walk, but her own exhaustion hit hard—the adrenaline of their escape finally wearing off, the energy she'd spent healing Xavier taking its toll. Her legs trembled after only a few steps.
"Come here, Starlight."
Xavier crouched down, and Nana climbed onto his back with a tired laugh.
"We're really doing this again? Like when we were kids?"
"Some traditions,"
Xavier said, adjusting her weight and starting to walk deeper into the meadow,
"are worth keeping."
Nana rested her chin on his shoulder, her arms looped loosely around his neck. The position was familiar, comfortable, achingly nostalgic. How many times had he carried her like this after their evening adventures? After she'd exhausted herself climbing trees or chasing fireflies or dragging him through some new exploration?.
"Xavier?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
Her voice was soft, almost lost in the evening breeze.
"For everything. For choosing me. For—"
She tightened her arms slightly.
"For being the only person who ever saw me as more than a weapon or a sacrifice or a solution to Philos's problems."
Xavier's throat felt tight.
"You've always been more than that. You've always been—" Everything.
"You've always been Nana. My Starlight."
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, Xavier's light evol providing a soft glow to guide their path. The meadow seemed endless, rolling hills of grass and flowers stretching in every direction. No buildings, no people, no signs of civilization.
Luna was untouched, pristine, a blank canvas they could paint their new life on.
If they had time.
"Xavier, look!"
Nana's voice suddenly filled with delight.
"Do you think Luna has fireflies too? Like Philos?"
Xavier scanned the darkening meadow. Nothing. No bioluminescent insects, no dancing lights. Just grass and stars and emptiness.
"I don't see any,"
he admitted.
"Oh."
Nana's disappointment was palpable.
"I was hoping—I know it's silly, but I wanted to see them again. One more time. Like when we were kids, remember? When we'd catch them in the forest and you'd tease me about climbing trees?"
One more time.
The words hit Xavier like a physical blow, because something in her voice—some unconscious knowledge, some instinct she wasn't aware of—made it sound like goodbye.
"I can make some,"
he found himself saying.
"What?"
Xavier concentrated, letting his light evol flow outward in careful, controlled bursts. Small orbs of light materialized in the air around them—dozens of them, hundreds, swirling and dancing like living things. He shaped them carefully, gave them motion and randomness, made them move like the fireflies of Philos.
"Xavier!"
Nana's squeal of delight was worth every ounce of energy it cost him.
"They're beautiful! They're—oh!"
He crafted more, shaping some into butterflies that fluttered around them with delicate wings made of pure light.
They landed on Nana's outstretched hands, on her hair, on Xavier's shoulders as he walked.
"This is amazing,"
Nana breathed, her arms tightening around his neck in a fierce hug.
"You're amazing. How did you even—"
"For you," Xavier said simply. "Anything for you."
The light-creatures danced around them as they walked, and for a moment—just one perfect, stolen moment—everything felt right. Like they were back in the forest near the academy, young and carefree and infinite.
Like the weight of kingdoms and sacrifices,and curses didn't exist.
Like they had forever.
"Xavier?" Nana's voice was quieter now, sleepier.
"Tomorrow... tomorrow I want to celebrate my twenty-third birthday properly. Here on Luna. Our first day of our new life. Can we do that?"
Tomorrow.
Xavier's steps faltered slightly, but he caught himself.
"Of course," he managed, his voice steady despite the ice forming in his chest.
"Under the stars. With fireflies. Just like always."
"Just like always,"
Nana echoed, and her voice was fading now, exhaustion pulling her toward sleep.
Xavier kept walking, kept the fireflies dancing, kept his breathing even and his steps steady. But he couldn't stop noticing—couldn't stop feeling—how Nana's heartbeat against his back was slowing.
How her breathing was becoming shallower.
How her arms around his neck were growing heavier, looser.
No, he thought desperately. No, not yet. Not already. We just got here. We just escaped. She's just tired, just exhausted from the journey. She'll rest and she'll be fine and tomorrow we'll—
But he knew. In that place where his star-blessed senses lived, where his connection to cosmic forces resided, Xavier knew.
The curse had followed them.
Twenty-two years, three hundred sixty-four days. One day before her twenty-third birthday. The same pattern, repeating like a law written in the stars themselves.
"Starlight?"
Xavier's voice cracked slightly.
"Stay awake for me. Just a little longer. We need to find shelter, get you warm—"
"Mmm... 'm tired, Xavier."
Her words were slurring now, mumbled against his shoulder.
"So tired. But 's okay. Tomorrow... tomorrow we'll celebrate. You'll see. Our new beginning..."
There won't be a tomorrow.
The thought crashed through Xavier with the force of a collapsing star. He stumbled, nearly fell, caught himself through sheer will and the desperate need to keep moving, keep trying, keep fighting fate even as it wrapped around them like chains.
"Nana, listen to me."
He adjusted her on his back, felt how light she seemed now, how her grip was loosening.
"I need you to stay awake. I need you to keep talking to me. Tell me about—tell me about the fireflies. Tell me what we'll do tomorrow. Tell me—"
"Love you," she mumbled, the words barely audible.
"Always loved you, Xavier. Since... since we were kids. Since you let me... sit with you... under the oak tree..."
Tears were streaming down Xavier's face now, hot and unstoppable.
"I love you too. I love you so much. Please, Starlight, please stay with me—"
"Tomorrow..."
Her voice was a whisper now, fading like smoke.
"Celebrate... together..."
"Yes," Xavier sobbed, still walking, still moving because stopping would mean accepting what was happening.
"Tomorrow. We'll celebrate tomorrow. Just stay with me. Just—"
Her arms fell from his neck.
"No."
Xavier's voice broke completely.
"No, no, no—NANA!"
He felt her body go limp against his back, felt the exact moment her heartbeat stopped, felt her final breath ghost across his neck like a goodbye.
Xavier's legs gave out.
He collapsed to his knees in the meadow, carefully, desperately cradling her as he fell, pulling her into his arms like she was something infinitely precious and infinitely fragile.
"Nana?"
His hands cupped her face—still warm, still soft, but empty of the life that had made it her. "Starlight, wake up. Please wake up. We made it, remember? We escaped. We're safe now. We're going to build a life here. We're going to—"
Her head lolled against his chest, and Xavier's denial shattered.
"No,"
he whispered, and then louder,
"NO!"
His light evol surged, desperate and wild. He pressed his hands to her chest, trying to restart her heart like he'd done with wounded soldiers, like his power could somehow reverse death itself. Light poured into her, bright and burning and futile.
Nothing.
He tried again. And again. And again, each time more desperate, more forceful, until his hands were shaking and his evol was depleting and still—still—she remained lifelessly still in his arms.
"Please," Xavier begged, his forehead pressed against hers, his tears falling on her peaceful face.
"Please don't leave me. I gave up everything for you. I chose you. You're supposed to live. You're supposed to—"
His voice cracked into a broken sob.
"How am I supposed to shine without my starlight?"
The meadow was silent except for his ragged breathing, his broken cries.
The light-fireflies he'd created still danced around them, oblivious to the tragedy, continuing their beautiful waltz because Xavier's evol had given them permanence.
They illuminated the worst moment of his life with gentle, mocking beauty.
Xavier pulled Nana closer, cradled her against his chest like he could protect her from death even though death had already won. He kissed her forehead, her closed eyes, her cheeks, her lips—desperate, aching gestures that she'd never feel.
"I love you," he whispered against her skin.
"I love you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry choosing you wasn't enough. I'm sorry—"
But there was nothing left to say. No words that could change this. No apologies that could bring her back.
Xavier's hand found hers, clasped their fingers together one last time. And that's when he saw it—the mark on her palm that he'd seen a thousand times but never truly understood.
A star.
Faint, silvery, like a scar or birthmark, glowing softly in the light of his fireflies. It had always been there, since the first time they'd met. He'd thought it was just part of her, another unique quirk of the girl who'd fallen into his life.But now—now it pulsed with light. His light.
Star-shaped and eternal and impossibly cruel.
A mark he'd left on her. His power, his essence, branded into her palm from their very first meeting. Their connection, their bond, made physical and permanent.
She'd carried a piece of him through every lifetime, and he'd never known.
Xavier pressed his lips to that glowing star mark, his tears falling onto her pale palm, his body shaking with sobs that wouldn't stop.
"Find me," he whispered desperately, his voice raw and broken.
"In the next life, in every life, find me again. I'll wait. I'll wait forever. I'll protect you every time. I'll—"
He couldn't finish. Couldn't voice the promise he was making to fate itself: that he'd do this again. And again. And again. That he'd choose her every time, damn every kingdom, rebel against every star, just for the chance to hold her one more time.
Even if it always ended like this.
Even if she always died in his arms.
Even if he had to carry this grief through centuries.
The star mark on her palm faded slowly, its light dimming as her body grew cold. But Xavier kept holding her hand, kept pressing kisses to her palm, kept crying like the world was ending.
Because for him, it was.
The Crown Star of Philos, blessed by the heavens, had finally learned what true darkness felt like.
It felt like her heartbeat stopping.
It felt like her last breath.
It felt like her hand going limp in his.
Above them, Luna's stars watched with cold indifference. And somewhere, across the vast distance of space, Philos burned as wanderers overran its defenses and the sun finally died.
But Xavier didn't care about kingdoms anymore.
He just held his Starlight and wept.
The fireflies continued their dance.
The Tomorrow never came.
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⭐⭐⭐
To be continued ___