There is a sense of unease that surrounds his heart like ocean waves threatening to swallow a tiny island. His anxiety coils in his gut, ready to spring into action the moment he catches sight of something worth getting worked up over. It is the waiting that Tommy finds most dreadful. He knows that bad things will befall him, and he must wait for them to come to him. He despises it. He wishes he could go out and confront his problems on his own terms with all the advantages laying at his feet. As it stands, however, Tommy will be the one playing defense, and he knows that he will suffer many great losses until he can turn the tide of this war against fate.

"It seems your mind is preoccupied with other matters," Kara comments idly, looking up from the book she was reading at her desk. Her expression is passive, but her stare does not lose any of its intensity. Tommy places the book she assigned to him on the desk. He closes it without bothering to remember the page number or leaving a slip of paper between the pages. Kara frowns minutely as she analyzes his actions. Tommy gives her a half-smile, wondering what she's gathering from all of this. Kara raises an eyebrow, "It appears my student has not been diligently reading in the allotted time."

Tommy's smile widens, but he knows that his eyes do not brighten based on Kara's furrowed brow. After a few years of Tommy studying under Kara, they have seen the reasoning behind every nuance in each other's expression. Kara can no better hide her concern about him than he can hide the fact that he has been unable to understand even one word from his book. It is as she says; his mind is preoccupied with other thoughts. He cannot reveal as much to Kara, so he asks, "What is the function of specialized magic? Why must a person be unable to learn a form of magic if they truly desire to? If they know all the correct procedures and assemble the appropriate materials, why are they incapable of producing the desired effect?"

"It seems you are still not satisfied with your ineptitude regarding healing magic," Kara acknowledges what his questions truly mean. Tommy has scoured every spell in the hundreds of books available to him as the third prince of a grand empire. He has attempted to perform all these spells. He attempted to summon creatures of the divine realm. He has made potions and artifacts. Nothing he has ever done has worked. All he got for his efforts was wasted time... and after an attempt to use a spell that transfers injuries instead of traditionally healing them, Tommy could have sworn he heard a woman's laughter ringing in his ears.

Kara sets her book down. She uses a gloved hand to move a piece of her brown hair behind her ear. She lets her fingers run down the sienna lock. The end of her hair slips off the side of her finger, landing back against her shoulder. She keeps her hand poised in front of her, fingers gently curving. She stares at the side of her fingers thoughtfully. "Magic as we know it comes in many different forms. There is the magic of the gods. There is the magic of devils. There is the magic of humans. There is the magic of witches. There are even powers that take similar shapes to magic that we do not consider as magic such as the power of elementals and the sword dances of the empire. As such, magic is almost undefinable."

Kara lowers her hand onto the desk. She taps her fingers against the leather cover of her book. A black glyph spreads across the dark blue material. The glyph starts to lift off the book. While they no longer touch, the book begins to float up underneath the glyph. Kara places her hand on the book. The glyph disappears, and the book falls to her desk with a loud thud. Tommy watches with wide eyes, taking in the sight of his teacher using a witch's curse. Kara smiles lightly at Tommy, leaving her hand palm down on the book. "No matter the kind of magic, however, there are two traits shared among them all. The first is the most obvious. Magic produces a change. It can be temporary or permanent. It can be within the mind or in the world around us. It could be simple or complex. No matter what it is, successful magic will cause a change in the world."

"And the other?" Tommy whispers softly. While Tommy has received a similar lesson to this from Kara before, it feels different this time. Not only because of her different word choice, but also because of the look in her eyes.

"The other is that magic comes from the caster's will. Even if it is subconscious, even if the caster does not want to perform their spell, nothing can be done if they do not force magic to obey. It is no exaggeration to suppose that magic is born from an individual's will to change," Kara finishes. She goes quiet, looking out the window. Tommy stares at her. She hasn't answered any of his questions. He doesn't understand why she's said any of this, but he knows his teacher well enough to know that she's given him the answer, just in a roundabout way. Tommy has to figure it out for himself just as he must do in his proper classes.

"Are you saying... I can perform healing magic?" Tommy solemnly asks, eyes wide and earnest.

Kara smiles, a soft sound coming from her form as if she were holding back a laugh. Kara stands up from her chair. She walks around her desk, finally meeting Tommy's eyes. She does not stop until she is standing right in front of him. Tommy stares up at her, meeting her eyes. They look like amber in the afternoon sunlight. "I am saying that people today believe they have limitations when it comes to magic. There are some who are content with this. There are others who will fight for more power with everything they have and have it all amount to nothing."

Kara reaches out, placing her hands on Tommy's cheeks. She looks directly into his eyes as she continues, "But there are a rare few who are able to transcend their own limitations. They have a will powerful enough to break fate itself. I cannot say for certain you are one of these rare few, but I can say that if I were a betting woman, all of my gold would be on you."

—

A woman in black stands at the edge of the wooden stage used for the execution. She is unperturbed by the dried blood coating the stones underneath her boots. She wears a long-brimmed hat on her brown hair, and her gloved hands are clasping a black rose between them that faintly exudes the aura of the Nether. Her wings remain like solemn guards protecting her back as she performs an illegal act. She sets the rose on the wooden stage, letting the green-purple leaves contrast the blood-tinted wood. The woman looks over her shoulder, her wings parting and her hat lifting enough to show her dark brown eyes. She stares right at Ranboo with a somber expression. "Dreadful, isn't it?"

—

"You need to focus, Theseus," Sam informs Tommy as he knocks the prince off his feet once again. Tommy huffs a shallow breath as he lands on the grass. He forces his breath to deepen. He rises back to his feet, picking up his training staff as he does. He tries getting back into an offensive position, but he feels a pair of hands land on his shoulders. He blinks in surprise, glancing up at Sam's concerned golden eyes. "What is bothering you this much? You know you can confide in me."

Tommy bites the inside of his cheek, averting his eyes. He rolls his shoulders. He considers what lie would be most suitable in this situation. He needs to ease Sam's worries along with reassuring him that behavior like this will be common in the upcoming days. His mind scrambles around, and his eyes dart around as if his environment could provide him a helpful hint. When nothing stands out, Tommy shakes his head. He lowers the training staff until the end of it digs into the ground. He cautiously glances at Sam, noticing that his frown has only gotten deeper and his eyebrows are furrowing together. "I believe it would be most suitable for us to exercise today. I do not want to be entirely black and blue as I eat my dinner."

Sam's eyes search Tommy's face. Tommy allows it to happen, carefully locking away any extreme emotions but allowing a lingering tiredness to remain on his face. Sam sighs, reaching a hand up to move it through Tommy's hair. Tommy wrinkles his nose in distaste, and Sam laughs like he always does. Tommy finds his lips quirk upward despite the thousands of thoughts tearing his mind apart. "I have come to understand that running is a suitable way of ridding oneself of unnecessary thoughts. We shall try it together and see if it works best for you as well."

Sam puts their training staffs away. When he returns, he places a reassuring hand on Tommy's shoulder. He squeezes with a light smile. He nods his head, and the two of them start their 'run.' It begins as a slow trot, but they soon gain and lose speed. Although it does not stop Tommy's thoughts, he does enjoy spending time with his teacher. He especially loved it when Fran came to tackle Sam to the ground. Although she eventually tackled Tommy down, too, he got to spend a few moments laughing at the high lord.

—

She stands at the graves. She wears an emotionless expression. She holds tightly to her spear. Unable to let it go, she falls to her knees alongside the spear. It sticks into the ground, standing firmly in place of her. She holds it with both of her hands, tightening her grip against the metal. She opens her mouth, perhaps to speak, but all that comes out is a splattering of blood. It lands weakly in the grass between her and the headstones. When the last of the blood slides down her chin, thick and liquidy, she releases a long breath. She whispers something, but Ranboo is too far away to hear it. All he knows is that as a tear slides down her cheek, visible as it runs through the blood and dirt, she collapses in front of the two graves. Her spear remains upright in the ground, but she no longer holds it tightly as she closes her eyes for the last time. A warrior dying at the graves of the father and brother she killed.

He does not know why he does it, but Ranboo finds himself placing a single rose with the thorns and leaves still attached to the stem in her hand where her spear once laid heavily.

—

"What's wrong?" Tubbo asks, leaning his head against Tommy's shoulder. Tubbo lowers the contraption he was playing with into his lap. It clinks softly as the innards slam against each other. Tommy raises an eyebrow at the metal machine, wondering how that could qualify as a 'toy.'

"You are going to injure yourself playing with that as recklessly as you are," Tommy mentions, pointing at the toy. He looks Tubbo right in the eye. "And I shall laugh and laugh when you do."

Tubbo's eyebrows furrow, a faux anger spreading across his face. "I am trying to be a good friend right now."

"You do not need to try. You simply are, and while I appreciate your concern, my point still stands. Be careful with your toys lest I start finding your misfortune funny," Tommy tells his friend. Tubbo's anger brightens, but it quickly dissolves back into a heated expression when Tommy finishes. All this serves to do is make Tommy giggle. "Perhaps you do not even need to experience pain for me to find you hilarious."

"You are far too cruel to me," Tubbo exclaims, but he does not move away from Tommy. In fact, he gets even more comfortable. Tommy smiles bitterly. He is definitely not as cruel to Tubbo as he could be, and this throwaway comment serves a reminder.

—

"Do you think they held a funeral?" Tubbo asks the silent room. Ranboo does open his eyes. He stares at the ceiling above him until he turns to look at the side of Tubbo's face. His eyes remain closed and his face poised. He crosses his arms over his chest, preparing to fall asleep.

"I... It would be bad manners to hold a funeral for someone who was executed," Ranboo shrugs with one of his shoulders. He wraps his arms around the pillow under his head. The material is still cool against his skin, but it will only be a matter of time until it is as warm as his cheek.

"I did not ask if it was proper. I asked if you thought they would hold one," Tubbo replies, his face twitching with an expression but his facial features do not commit. They return to a state of neutrality. "Wilbur would have poured a glass of something expensive and drowned all his feelings pertaining to his brother. Techno would have gone to the shores of that lake Theseus almost drowned in... I cannot pretend to know what Philza would have done. As treasonous as this is, Philza does not seem capable of caring about his family."

"Everyone else would have rejoiced," Ranboo notes, closing his eyes. He slowly opens his eyes. "Well, there was one person who did not rejoice. Marchioness Kara put a wither rose on the execution stage."

"There are three people who did not rejoice," Tubbo amends Ranboo's comment. Ranboo eyes the side of Tubbo's face, watching the moonlight fall across it. Tubbo opens his eyes, but they are unseeing as he continues. "You and I did not rejoice."

Ranboo pushes his face into his pillow. "No... No, we did not."

—

"Your highness, is the meal not to your liking? Shall this servant ask the cooks to prepare a different dish?" Niki asks, noticing his foul mood the moment Tommy came into the dining hall. She sounds concerned for him right now, and her smile could be interpreted as worry. Tommy knows that she is condemning him for his spoiled nature in her head right now, comparing his dinner to the rations given to the people of the fallen Drywaters kingdom.

"It is perfectly alright. I am content with it. I fear I just have much on my mind," Tommy explains, meeting her eyes. She does not look away from him, the one real sign he needed to confirm that she does not hold much respect for him. While it does irk Tommy, he knows he cannot completely blame her. Who would have respect for an eleven-year-old third prince?

"Do not worry, your highness. Whatever it is that is worrying you will be swiftly dealt with by the Imperial Guard, including myself, your personal knight," Jack explains, doing the proper salute for knights of the order. Tommy smiles grimly. He does not trust Jack with his life, nor does he trust the Imperial Guard to deal with the threat coming for their hallowed halls.

"I know that I have nothing to fear," Tommy assures both of them. He has spent the last year cultivating his relationship with them. He can do little for the resentment they already bore towards him, but he has dutifully kept those feelings from escalating into anger or hatred. He will continue this act until he can get what he wants from both of them.

—

"It's..." Niki begins, but her voice trails off instead of concluding. She straightens out, folding her hands behind her back. She looks more like a soldier than Jack does. "I cannot believe that it is over."

"Yeah. I mean... he's dead. Like, actually dead," Jack murmurs, eyes wide with the shock that continues to linger in the air even days after the execution. "I never thought it would come to this."

"I always hoped it never would," Niki admits somberly, her eyes downcast as she looks into the distance. She seems to find something on the horizon that Ranboo cannot see. "But there are some fates that have no choice but to be realized."

"But there are some fates we must take back," Jack whispers, more to himself than to Niki and Ranboo. Like Niki, Jack is staring out into the distance at something Ranboo cannot see, but Jack looks in the opposite direction as Niki. Whatever they are looking at, it is not the same thing as each other. Ranboo wonders what it is, but he knows that asking will only get him a silver platter of lies.

"Some fates we must rewrite," Niki continues, her voice louder than Jack's but no less solemn. She narrows her eyes with determination. Jack's hands tighten into fists. Ranboo looks down at his own hands. While their words are odd and probably not meant for him, Ranboo finds purpose in them. There is one fate he must take back and rewrite, and that is the fate of the End.

—

Tommy sits at his desk. He tries not to think about what is going to happen in the future, but his thoughts have long-since stopped being under his control. The attack on his home will happen any day now. The Ender Prince never specified a date, but Theseus was eleven when it happened. Tommy's eleventh birthday was some months ago. Once this first event happens, many more will happen in quick succession. Tommy feels ill-prepared for them all even though he's been doing his best to prepare for them. He is completely terrified of failure because it means people are going to die- people he cares about are going to die.

To calm his nerves, Tommy begins idly flipping over the recent letters he has received from his scattered family members.

Philza wishes Tommy well and proclaims his fatherly love for his son. When the embarrassing part is over, Philza talks about the architecture he has been studying while on his travels. He mainly describes the beauty of these places to Tommy, but he lightly touches on the practical developments he wants to bring back to the empire. He follows all of this up with an examination of the elementals in the environment around him. They are noticeably different from those in the empire, though the air and water elementals still show reverence for their kings and the contractors. He gives Tommy a short message from Sneeg. Philza ends his letter with the promise to return soon.

Techno's letter is eloquently written. Even with the mind of an adult, Tommy has to look up some of the words in his dictionary. When he understands all of the words, he finds himself enjoying the letter. Techno touches on the monsters he's been fighting and the water elementals he's been meeting. The majority of his letter, however, is about a book he recently read that he wishes for Tommy to also read so that they might discuss it. Techno mimics their father when he declares that they will be back for a visit as soon as they can manage it.

Wilbur's letter is by far the longest. He explains almost every detail of his life from each of his classes to all of his friends. He has been making more than a few connections with the people around him, though his best friend will always be Shelby. Wilbur writes an entire paragraph about how much he misses Tommy, and how Tommy would love to see Kinoko. Wilbur lightly touches on the shifting political landscape and the constant tension in the air, but he does not dwell on it. He is, after all, speaking to his eleven-year-old brother.

Surprisingly, Shelby also sent him a letter. While not nearly as detailed as Wilbur's letter, she does tell him how she's faring at the academy. She does not speak about all of her classes, but she does spend a lengthy amount of time telling Tommy about the magic classes. Although Gemini is a great mentor, Shelby is enjoying learning the types of magic and how they all relate to one another. She is able to look at magic from different angles, finding the one that suits her best. Shelby swears to teach Tommy some neat tricks when she returns for winter vacation. In the meantime, she wishes Tommy well and reminds him of their promise.

Tommy sets out some parchment, inking his quill. He writes letters back to Wilbur and Shelby. He does not dare to write as much as they did, but he finds a suitable length he's comfortable with. When the ink dries, he folds the paper and places them inside envelopes. He puts them in a small tray at the edge of his desk for Niki tomorrow. As his maid, she is responsible for collecting his envelopes, properly stamping them, and sending them to the courier. Even if she harbors ill intentions, Niki does her job as a maid efficiently enough that Tommy trusts her to do the bare minimum.

As for Philza and Techno, Tommy walks over to the bird familiar Sneeg left behind. Tommy sits on the bay window beside the cage holding the familiar. He opens the cage door. The familiar hops onto the edge of the cage, but it does not take flight. Tommy stares at those emotionless, cold eyes. He remains impassive as he recites a message meant for Sneeg to pass along to Philza and Techno. It is short as it only contains Tommy's assurance that both he and Kristin are healthy. He does not speak about any other matters, not his schooling or his feelings. He does not even acknowledge the promise given to him. When he is done, Tommy reaches to close the bird cage. The familiar hops back onto the bar in the middle of the cage. It turns its head away from Tommy, the feathers gleaming in the low lighting. Tommy looks away from the bird, putting his head against the window.

"What are you doing awake at this late hour?" A voice asks. Tommy looks away from the mirror to see Jack holding the door open for the tsaritsa. Kristin walks into the room, and Jack closes the door. Kristin does not stop until she is standing in front of Tommy. She lifts a hand up, touching his cheek. He leans into her touch, shifting his body to face her. He does not say a word, merely enjoying her freely given comfort. He feels a burning sensation in the back of his eyes as he realizes this may very well be the last time he gets to be in her warm arms.

Kristin makes a cooing noise, getting closer to Tommy. "Does this perhaps have something to do with what has been ailing you as of late? The Jester has told me about your restlessness. If you have too much on your plate, you need only tell me, Theseus. I will free you from any responsibility."

"I am fine. I have only been thinking about the affairs of the world," Tommy admits, not lying but never daring to approach the truth. He glances away from his mother, back out the window to the sprawling city in the distance. "I would like to do more charity work in the city to ease your burdens."

"I do not mind as long as you bring a suitable amount of guards," Kristin informs him, her voice airy as if she's not fully paying attention to what she is saying. She continues stroking Tommy's cheeks with her fingers. She pushes slightly, and Tommy looks at her. She is frowning contemplatively, staring at him with the knowing eyes only a mother can possess. "I have my doubts that this is the true source of your troubles... What must I do for you to tell me?"
There is no answer, so Tommy does not even try to speak. He just leans forward, pressing his face against her chest. He listens to her heartbeat, assuring himself that it continues to beat. Kristin lowers her arms, picking Tommy up. She holds him close, placing her cheek against his hair. Tommy closes his eyes as his mother opens her mouth. She begins to sing. It is a different language than he knows, but somehow, for some reason, it is familiar. It is soothing, at the very least, enough that it sends Tommy right to sleep.

—

"Do you truly believe yourself capable of defying fate?"