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Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: The Rebellion.

2 years later

Xavier had become obsessed.

Every spare moment between Council meetings and defensive strategy sessions was spent in the royal archives, pouring over ancient texts about aether cores.

He consulted scholars in secret, traveled to remote research facilities under false pretenses, experimented with his own light evol in ways that left him drained and trembling.

The technology of Philos wasn't advanced enough—not yet, not for what he needed. But Xavier was desperate, and desperation made him relentless. with this power.

He need to understand Why aether cores manifested in only one person per century. Why the core's energy could sustain the sun, bend time, hold back wanderers. If he could understand the mechanism, maybe he could replicate it. Maybe he could use his own light evol as a substitute. Maybe—

"Your Majesty, you're going to collapse if you don't sleep."

Xavier looked up from the tome spread across his desk to find Nana standing in the doorway of his private study, arms crossed, wearing her knight's uniform and an expression of fond exasperation.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine.

You haven't been fine for two years.

" She walked over, peering at the book he'd been reading—something about energy resonance and core synchronization.

"What is all this anyway? You've been spending every night in here lately."

"Research."

Xavier closed the book before she could read too much.

"About evol abilities. About how to make Philos stronger."

It wasn't a complete lie. Just an incomplete truth.

Nana studied him with those perceptive eyes that saw too much. At twenty-two, she'd grown into her power in ways that both awed and terrified Xavier.

Her aether core had only gotten stronger, her ability to resonate with other evol types—especially his light evol—was unprecedented. When they trained together, their powers synchronized so perfectly it was like two halves of a whole.

The priests had noticed. The Council had noticed. Everyone had noticed how the Crown Star and his Knight moved like one being in battle, their powers intertwining in ways that shouldn't be possible.

It made them beautiful. It made them powerful.It made Xavier's heart break because he knew what it meant—knew that this bond, this resonance, was exactly why the priests wanted her. Why they'd been watching her with increasingly hungry eyes.

"Xavier."

Nana's hand came to rest on his shoulder, warm and grounding.

"Talk to me. You've been distant lately. Distracted. Is it the wanderer attacks? The sun?"

It's you, he wanted to say. It's always been you. It's knowing that tomorrow is your twenty-third birthday and the priests have been pressuring me for months and I'm running out of time and I still haven't found a way to save you.

"Just tired,"

he said instead.

"I'll rest soon. Promise."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't push. That was something Xavier both loved and hated about her—she trusted him enough to respect his silences, even when those silences were killing him.

"Well, don't stay up too late. Tomorrow is—" She smiled, a bit shy, a bit teasing.

"Tomorrow is my birthday. Twenty-three, finally! The priests kept saying it's an 'important age' or something, but I think they're just being dramatic. Anyway, you promised we'd celebrate under the oak tree like always, remember?"

Xavier's blood turned to ice.

Tomorrow. Her birthday. The priests had been preparing for months, the altar had been sanctified, the ceremonial blade had been blessed. They'd been waiting for him to give the final order, growing increasingly impatient with his delays and excuses.

Tomorrow, they would come for her.

"I remember,"

Xavier managed, his voice steady despite the way his hands trembled beneath the desk. "Tomorrow. Under the oak tree. At sunset."

"Good!"

Nana squeezed his shoulder once more, then headed for the door.

"Don't make me drag you to bed, Your Majesty. You need actual sleep, not just research-induced unconsciousness."

She left with a wave, and Xavier sat frozen in his chair, staring at the closed door.

Tomorrow.

He was out of time.

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The Next Morning - Nana's 23rd Birthday

Nana woke up excited. Twenty-three felt significant somehow, like stepping across a threshold into real adulthood. She'd been a knight, a warrior, a protector for years now, but twenty-three felt different.

She spent the morning training, then helping with defensive preparations in the outer districts. The wanderer attacks had been getting worse—more frequent, more violent, more coordinated.

The sun hung dimmer every day, and there was a tension in the air that made everyone nervous.

But it was her birthday, and tonight she'd celebrate with Xavier under their oak tree like they had since they were kids. That tradition was sacred, unbreakable.

She didn't notice the priests watching her throughout the day with calculating eyes.

She didn't notice the guards following at a distance, their expressions grim.She didn't notice Xavier's complete absence from all his usual duties, locked in his study with the High Priest, his voice rising in anger for the first time in his reign.

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The King's Study - Midday

"No."

Xavier's voice was ice, his light evol flickering dangerously around him as he faced the High Priest across his desk.

The old man had brought scrolls, documents, ceremonial robes—everything needed for the Philos Rite.

"Your Majesty, we've delayed as long as possible. The sun is dying. The wanderers grow stronger every day. The hourglass—"

The priest gestured to the ancient timepiece he'd brought, its sands nearly depleted, each grain representing years of Philos's remaining time.

"We have perhaps months left. Weeks, if the next wanderer surge is as severe as predicted."

"I said no."

"The girl was born for this purpose! Her aether core—"

"HER NAME IS NANA!"

Xavier's fist slammed on the desk, papers scattering.

"She's not 'the girl.' She's a person. She's the kingdom's strongest knight. She's—" She's everything.

"She's under my protection as King."

"And as King, you must make the choice your father couldn't."

The priest's voice softened, took on a tone of false sympathy.

"We know you care for her, Your Majesty. But one life against millions? The choice is clear."

"The choice,"

Xavier said coldly,

"is that I've spent two years researching alternatives. My light evol is compatible with the altar mechanism. I can—"

"Your light evol isn't enough! We've been through this!"

The priest pulled out another scroll, unfurling it to show complex diagrams and calculations.

"The Crown Star's power can supplement, can extend Philos's time, but it cannot sustain. Only an aether core can fully restore the sun, can reset the cycle. This is ancient law, written in the stars themselves!"

"Then let the stars burn out."

The priest's eyes widened.

"Your Majesty, you don't mean—"

"I mean exactly what I said."

Xavier stood, his full height and royal bearing suddenly oppressive in the small study.

"I will not sacrifice her. I will find another way, or Philos will face its fate without that particular blood on its hands."

"You're condemning millions for one girl!"

"I'm refusing to murder an innocent person to save a kingdom built on such murders!"

Xavier's voice cracked slightly.

"How many? How many girls have died on that altar? How many lives have we sacrificed every hundred years, generation after generation, telling ourselves it was necessary? That it was noble?"

"It keeps Philos alive—"

"At what cost?"

Xavier moved to the window, looking out at the dimming sun.

"My father did this. His father. Every king before me, sacrificing someone's daughter, someone's friend, someone's—" beloved "—knight. And for what? To buy another hundred years before the next sacrifice? It's not sustainability, it's slow suicide with extra steps."

The priest was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was harder, colder.

"You're making a mistake, Your Majesty. The Council will not support this rebellion. The people will not understand when wanderers overrun their homes. Your knights and generals will not—"

"I don't care."

"—follow a king who chooses personal attachment over the kingdom's survival."

Xavier turned, and something in his expression made the priest take a step back. His eyes were no longer cold—they were burning, desperate, completely unhinged from the careful control he'd maintained for two years.

"Then they can find a new king,"

Xavier said quietly.

"Because I will not kill her. Not today. Not ever."

"Your Majesty—"

"Get out."

Xavier's light evol flared, bright enough to hurt.

"Get out, and take your altar and your ceremony and your ancient laws with you. Tell the Council. Tell the generals. Tell anyone who will listen that I, Xavier, Crown Star of Philos, am choosing rebellion."

The priest gathered his scrolls with trembling hands, backing toward the door.

"This is treason against Philos itself. Against the stars that blessed you. You'll destroy everything!"

"Maybe."

Xavier's hand moved unconsciously to the star tassel hanging from his sword—pristine after two years of constant battles, a promise kept even as everything else fell apart.

"But I'll have kept her alive. That's enough."

The priest fled.

Xavier stood alone in his study, his decision made, his bridges burned, his kingdom's fate sealed.

And somewhere in the palace, Nana was smiling and planning their evening celebration, completely unaware that her twenty-third birthday would be the day her king chose her over the stars themselves.

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The Throne Room - Late Afternoon

The summons came swiftly. The entire High Council, the generals, the noble houses—all gathered in the throne room with grim expressions. News traveled fast in the palace.

Xavier entered wearing his full royal regalia, the crown heavy on his head, the star tassel swaying from his sword. He looked every inch the king as he climbed the steps to his throne.

"Your Majesty,"

the head councilor began, voice tight.

"We've heard disturbing reports from the High Priest. Please tell us these reports are exaggerated."

"They're not."

A ripple of shock through the assembly.

"You cannot be serious,"

one of the generals spoke up.

"The Rite has been performed for millennia. It is the foundation of Philos's survival!"

"Then Philos has been built on a foundation of corpses,"

Xavier replied evenly.

"And I'm done adding to the pile."

"The girl is just one person!"

"Her name is Nana."

Xavier's voice hardened.

"And yes, she is one person. One person who has fought for this kingdom, bled for this kingdom, protected its citizens with her life. One person who has more honor in her smallest finger than this entire Court combined."

"Sentiment won't save us from wanderers!" another councilor shouted.

"Your Majesty, we understand you have... affection for your knight, but—"

"Affection?"

Xavier laughed, and it was a bitter, broken sound.

"Is that what you think this is? Simple affection?"

He stood, and the Court fell silent.

"I love her,"

Xavier said clearly, his voice carrying through the throne room.

"I have loved her since we were children. I love her more than I love this crown, this throne, this kingdom. I love her more than I love my own life. And I will not sacrifice her. Not for Philos. Not for anyone."

The silence was deafening.

Then, quietly, from the High Priest:

"Then you choose to let Philos die."

"I choose," Xavier said slowly,

"to find another way. To stop this cycle of death. To—"

"There IS no other way!"

The priest's composure finally cracked. "We've explored every alternative! The sun dies, the wanderers multiply, and only an aether core sacrifice can reset the cycle! This is cosmic law, not kingdom law! You cannot simply refuse it!"

"Watch me."

Xavier descended the throne steps, each footfall echoing in the stunned silence. He reached up and removed the crown from his head—the symbol of his authority, his duty, his destiny.

He placed it carefully on the throne's seat.

"What are you doing?"

someone whispered.

"I," Xavier said clearly, "am abdicating. Let someone else wear the crown. Let someone else make the choice to murder an innocent girl. I'm done."

"Your Majesty, you cannot—"

"I just did."

He turned and walked away, his light evol already reaching out, searching for her presence in the palace. He found it—training grounds, she was still at the training grounds, probably running through sword forms while waiting for evening.

Behind him, the Court erupted into chaos. Shouts, accusations, panic. But Xavier didn't stop, didn't slow.

He'd made his choice.

Now he had to save her before they made theirs.

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The Training Grounds - Late Afternoon

Nana was in the middle of a perfect sword sequence when Xavier appeared in a flash of light, moving faster than she'd ever seen him move outside of combat.

"Xavier?" She lowered her blade, concerned. He looked—wrong. His eyes were wild, his usually perfect hair disheveled, his hands trembling.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"We have to go."

His voice was rough, urgent. "Right now."

"Go? Go where? Xavier, what—"

He didn't explain. He simply stepped forward, sheathed her sword for her, and then—to her complete shock—scooped her up into his arms like she weighed nothing.

"XAVIER!"

Nana yelped, grabbing onto his armor instinctively.

"What are you—put me down! What's happening?"

"I'll explain later. Right now, we need to leave. We need to leave Philos."

"Leave Philos? Are you insane? You're the king! We can't just—"

But Xavier was already moving, his light evol propelling them across the training grounds, past startled guards, toward the royal stables. His horse—a massive black beast bred for speed—was already saddled, as if he'd planned this.

As if he'd known it would come to this.

"Xavier, TALK TO ME!"

Nana demanded as he set her on the horse and swung up behind her.

"What is going on? Why are we running? Why—"

"Hold on," was all he said, and then they were moving.

The horse galloped through the palace gates, past shouting guards, into the city streets. Nana clutched Xavier's armor, her mind spinning with confusion and fear. She twisted to look back and saw—

The entire palace guard mobilizing. Generals shouting orders. The High Priest standing at the gates, pointing at them, his face twisted with fury.

"Xavier,"

Nana said slowly, realization dawning with horrible clarity.

"What did you do?"

His arms tightened around her waist, one hand holding the reins while the other pressed against her stomach, keeping her secure.

"What I should have done years ago,"

he said quietly.

They rode through the city, through the gates, into the wilderness beyond. The sun—dim and dying—cast everything in shades of amber and shadow. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit grew louder.

But Xavier's horse was fast, and his light evol supplemented their speed, and soon the sounds faded.

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⭐⭐⭐

To be continued __

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