Philos, A Long Time Ago
A long, long time ago, there existed a planet that shimmered like a star against the velvet darkness of space. Philos—a kingdom of light, where joy sparkled in every corner and hope hung thick in the crystalline air. It was ruled by a beloved king and queen, and on one blessed day, their crown star was reborn.
Prince Xavier of Philos.
Blessed by the stars themselves, he was born with light evol powers that made him move faster than thought, graceful as starlight cutting through shadow. His blue eyes were often mistaken for coldness, but those who looked closer could see the truth—they held too much pain for a boy of fifteen. Too much weight. Too much destiny.
Xavier had never asked to be the future king. He'd never wanted the throne, the responsibility, the expectations that pressed down on his shoulders like the gravity of a dying star. What he wanted was simple, impossible: to be a normal boy. To play. To laugh without protocol. To exist without the kingdom watching his every breath.
He sat beneath the great oak tree at the edge of the sword academy training grounds, exhausted from his second practice duel of the day. The sunset painted the sky in shades of amber and rose, and for a moment, Xavier allowed himself to simply... breathe.
"Why are you sitting all alone?"
Xavier's eyes snapped open. Above him, perched precariously on a thick branch, was a girl. She had warm brown hair adorned with small flowers, and her cheeks were puffed out in the most ridiculous pout he'd ever seen—like a hamster storing food for winter.
She was twelve, maybe. Young enough to still have that fearless spark in her eyes, the kind that hadn't yet learned about impossible things.
"I'm resting," Xavier replied carefully, his princely training making his voice measured and distant.
"Alone?" She wrinkled her nose. "That's boring."
Before Xavier could respond, she was climbing down—or rather, half-climbing, half-falling in a graceless tumble that made his heart leap into his throat. He shot to his feet, ready to catch her, but she landed on her bottom with an "oof!" and a giggle.
"You're going to break your neck," Xavier said, trying to sound stern but failing entirely.
"Nah, I'm tougher than I look!" She brushed grass from her training clothes and plopped down beside him, utterly uninvited and completely comfortable. "I'm Nana, by the way. I just transferred here. You're the prince, right?"
Xavier tensed. Here it came—the reverence, the distance, the carefully constructed walls that everyone built between themselves and royalty.
But Nana just tilted her head. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're hiding out here. Princes probably need breaks too, huh?"
Something in Xavier's chest loosened. "...Yes. We do."
They sat in silence, watching the sunset bleed across the sky. The wind carried the scent of evening flowers and the distant sounds of other students heading home. For the first time in longer than Xavier could remember, he felt... peaceful.
"Pretty, isn't it?" Nana murmured, hugging her knees. "Back home, my mom always said sunsets are the universe's way of saying 'good job today, try again tomorrow.'"
"That's... a nice thought."
"Yeah!" She turned to him with a bright smile. "So, same time tomorrow? After class?"
Xavier blinked. "Tomorrow?"
"Yeah! I mean, if you want to. This seems like a good spot for watching sunsets, and it's way better with company, don't you think?"
She looked at him with such open, genuine friendliness—no ulterior motives, no fear, no awe. Just... Nana, offering companionship like it was the simplest thing in the world.
"...Alright," Xavier heard himself say. "Tomorrow."
---
One Year Later...
Tomorrow had turned into a hundred tomorrows, and then a thousand.
Xavier had lost count of how many evenings they'd spent together, how many adventures Nana had dragged him into with her unstoppable enthusiasm and complete disregard for propriety. She treated him like Xavier, not like the Crown Prince. She teased him when he was too serious. She made him laugh until his sides hurt. She made him feel alive.
Tonight, they were in the forest just beyond the academy grounds—technically off-limits, but Nana had insisted they needed to catch fireflies, and Xavier had stopped trying to tell her "no" months ago.
"There! There! Xavier, look!" Nana bounced on her toes, pointing at the clusters of glowing insects dancing between the trees. The bioluminescent lights reflected in her eyes, making them sparkle like captured stars.
Xavier couldn't help but smile. "I see them, Starlight."
The nickname had slipped out one evening when she'd asked why he always looked so tired. "Because I'm supposed to be a star," he'd told her bitterly. "Cold, distant, burning alone." And she'd punched his arm and said, "Well, I'll be your starlight then. Stars need light too, dummy."
It had stuck.
"Come on!" Nana grabbed his hand and pulled him deeper into the forest, laughing as fireflies swirled around them like living constellations. She'd grown taller over the year, though she still barely reached his shoulder. Her skills had grown too—she was the most powerful student at the academy now, her aether core giving her abilities that even the instructors marveled at.
But to Xavier, she was just Nana. His Starlight. The girl who climbed trees and talked to squirrels and made him feel like maybe, just maybe, destiny didn't have to be a cage.
"Oh! Xavier, look at that branch! I bet I could—"
"Don't you dare," Xavier warned, but she was already scrambling up the tree trunk, reaching for a cluster of fireflies near a bird's nest.
"There's baby birds! Come see!"
"Nana, you're going to—"
The branch cracked.
Xavier moved on instinct, light evol propelling him forward in a flash. He caught her mid-fall, and they both tumbled into the soft grass in a tangle of limbs and startled laughter.
"Told you," Xavier muttered, but there was no heat in it.
Nana was lying half on top of him, grass in her hair, grinning like she'd just won a great victory. "But did you see the baby birds? They were so cute!"
"You're impossible."
"And you love it."
She wasn't wrong. Xavier found himself smiling, his hand moving to brush a leaf from her hair. The fireflies danced around them, painting the moment in golden light. For just this moment, there was no kingdom, no duty, no weight of crowns and prophecies.
Just Xavier and his Starlight, tangled in the grass beneath a sky full of stars.
"I—" Xavier started, then stopped. What was he trying to say? That these moments with her were the only times he felt like himself? That when she smiled, the darkness that always pressed at the edges of his mind receded? That he was terrified of the future because he knew it would take this away from him?
"Hmm?" Nana tilted her head, those bright eyes so trusting, so open.
"...Nothing. We should head back before someone notices we're gone."
"Spoilsport." But she let him help her up, brushing grass from her clothes. As they walked back toward the academy, she kept chattering about the fireflies, the baby birds, the way one squirrel had looked personally offended when she'd tried to offer it a snack.
Xavier listened, committed every word to memory. Her hand was still in his, small and warm and real.
When they reached the fork where they had to part ways—her toward the dormitories, him toward the palace—she turned and waved with her usual bright enthusiasm.
"See you tomorrow after class!"
"Tomorrow," Xavier promised, watching until she disappeared safely through the dormitory doors.
He walked back to the palace alone, the captured fireflies in his cupped hands slowly dimming. Tomorrow. And the tomorrow after that. And as many tomorrows as they could steal before reality came to collect its due.
Xavier looked up at the stars above Philos, the same stars that marked him as their prince, their vessel, their sacrifice.
*Let me have this,* he thought desperately. *Just a little longer. Please.*
The stars, ancient and cold and utterly indifferent, offered no answer.
Tomorrow came. And with it, another sunset. Another adventure. Another moment of stolen happiness.
Xavier stopped counting the tomorrows. Instead, he learned to treasure each one, unaware that he was counting down to the day when "tomorrow" would become a word that tasted like ash and broken promises.
But tonight—tonight there was only the memory of fireflies and laughter, grass stains and her hand in his.
Tonight, Xavier let himself be happy.
---
*To be continued __