Tommy feels his consciousness come back in waves. The concept of being awake- of being a living being- comes first. His thoughts soon follow. These thoughts process his senses, which gives him a sense of his body. He feels a haziness in his body as if he's woken up from a very long nap. The disorientation leaks into his vision as he tries to open his eyes. Everything is a blur, throbbing around the edges. There is a particularly large blob that moves around the bed that Tommy feels underneath his weighted limbs. He blinks rapidly to clear away the fuzziness. This sends a bout of nausea through his throat, but he holds down the bile. His vision finally clears, and he recognizes the moving blob as Ponk, the Imperial Physician.

Ponk is no longer moving. He stands right at the edge of Tommy's bed. He stares down at the prince with a thoughtful frown on his face. His dark eyes are intense, and it makes Tommy feel uncomfortable, like a butterfly pinned to a corkboard. Ponk averts his attention momentarily to lift a glass of water up from the nightstand beside Tommy's bed. Ponk pushes one hand underneath Tommy's head, lifting it up. He presses the rim of the glass to Tommy's lips and gently coaxes in a sip of water down Tommy's throat. It soothes the burning sensation in his throat, one Tommy hadn't realized was there. Ponk pulls the drink away far too soon in Tommy's opinion, and a hollow sort of whine rings in his ears that he embarrassedly hopes isn't from him. It obviously is, but Ponk doesn't take the time to mention it. He returns his attention to Tommy, blindly setting the glass back down on the nightstand.

"How are you feeling?" Ponk asks like the good doctor he is. Tommy even notices that Ponk is wearing several apparatuses on his body, a mixture of inventions from the other ministries that handle magic and invention. Tommy doesn't know what any of the apparatuses do, but he likes staring at the shifting colors of a monocle over Ponk's eyes. The iridescence reminds Tommy of oil, but these colors are a little more profound than oil. Since Ponk presumably has perfect vision, the monocle must help him with his healing abilities in some way.

Healing... Why did Tommy need to be healed again? He searches his memories for the reason, and he comes upon it like a knife landing in his gut. The rebels attacked. Tommy remembers defeating a few rebels. He came into serious conflict with one who was contracted with an air elemental. Tommy un-summoned the snake with a powerful strike, and the elementalist went down. Tommy managed to get to his mother's chambers to save her, but he was interrupted by... some sort of saintess, a person who knew far more than she should. In the heat of the moment, Tommy didn't really care, but hindsight makes him want to analyze everything she said to him. But there was an important reason why he wasn't caring about the saint's words. His mother had been in danger. She might still be.

"How is Mom?" Tommy demands to know in a scratchy voice. The disuse implies he's been unconscious for a while. Tommy hopes his mother didn't pass while he was ensnared in darkness. The only reason Ponk, the Imperial Physician, would be here with Tommy instead of Kristin is if she was in the clear or if she was dead. Tommy couldn't stand the thought of the latter, and it made him feel so much worse even thinking about it. His only consolation is that he was able to tell her the truth, that he loved her and that she was his mother through and through, in their last moments together. It was a terrible consolation, one that didn't make Tommy feel much better, but it was one less regret he's going to inevitably have if Kristin is dead.

"The tsaritsa is fine. She is well enough to move and speak with assistance. There are no lingering effects of the sleeping spell, and she wasn't hurt by any of the cultists," Ponk assures Tommy. The blonde releases a breath he had been holding since he asked the question. It falls from his lips swiftly and rather loudly. Tommy's limbs untense. He sinks into the bed. It feels... Well, Tommy feels numb. He's spent so long feeling tense about this event. Kristin is very important to him. She loves him, holds him, and listens to him. She has never raised a hand towards him, never looked at him with cruel anger, never even made some ill-intentioned comment about him. Tommy wants to keep her alive.

She's also very important to Tommy's other family members. Wilbur, Techno, Philza... Tommy loves them all as much as he loves Kristin. He doesn't want to see them grieve her. He doesn't want to watch them fall onto dark paths that lead them to nowhere good.

Another point to consider is that Tommy changed fate. Kristin's death was meant to happen. While her death is not Ranboo's inciting incident, it is Theseus'. In a lot of ways, it is the inciting incident for all of the empire since the imperial family's trauma affects everyone underneath that family. Without this key event, fate is definitely going to be different. Since Tommy was able to undo this cornerstone, will he be able to circumvent other plots of fate? He might be able to protect Tubbo, save Shelby, and keep himself away from the guillotine. No, he will be able to.

"I ask again, how are you feeling?" Ponk repeats, cutting through Tommy's palpable relief. The blonde blinks, looking back at the physician. He does an internal check over his body. He doesn't feel any pain other than his throat and a crustiness in his eyes, both of which are a consequence of excess sleep, not injury. Tommy frowns. He remembers getting hit several times. He think he fucked both of his legs up, but he can feel them both just fine.

"I'm... fine," Tommy hesitates, not because it isn't true but because it isn't believable. He glances up at Ponk for answers. The doctor has no expression on his face. He is staring at Tommy. Tommy looks away from Ponk, but his eyes trail back after a moment. Ponk's expression hasn't changed. He looks like he's assessing something.

Ponk sighs, running a hand across the side of his face. "You were covered in blood when you were first delivered to me. When I went to search for the sources of the blood, I didn't find anything. I chalked it up to being other people's blood, at first, but I was able to prove it was your blood. There were no wounds for the blood to exit from."

Tommy eyebrows knit together. That shouldn't be possible. He was injured. He should at least have a few bruises on his body, if nothing else. Ponk continues, "There are traces of light magic around you. Light magic has many properties, both harmful and helpful, but one of the most common applications is healing. I am certain that's what happened to you. The light magic traces are also the reason the tsaritsa is not here right now. The light magic will only make her sick. While she was willing to bear this consequence, as long as the light magic is on you, her presence will also make you sick. She couldn't allow for that to happen, so she has stayed away for the time being."

Tommy blinks. Light magic... he knows the rebel that killed Kristin in The Ender Prince had light magic, but she was dead by the time Tommy arrived. None of the other rebels had light magic. The one person who did was the saint. She had an aureate aura around her body like her eyes. Tommy raises up one of his hands. As he suspected, there is a tattoo of a sunflower on the back of his hand. It stretches out across his skin in bold, shimmering colors. Although Tommy cannot explain it, he feels like the sunflower tattoo is the same color as the summer wind.

"That is the source of the light magic hanging around your aura. It should dissipate with time, but the tattoo will remain. Although it does not grant you the powers of light, it does give you a reduced resistance to light-based healing and an increased resistance to shadow magic," Ponk explains. He glances at the tattoo with scrutinizing eyes. "I don't know where it came from, but you don't seem surprised. If you are certain of its origins and ascertain them of perfect rationality, I shall leave the matter alone. It does nothing for or against your health, after all."

Tommy closes his hand into a fist. The tattoo pulls, but it doesn't lose its shape. It remains constant, steady and unwavering like a flower that searches for the sun at every dawn. Tommy smiles to himself. Fatebreaker, she called him.

"I will excuse myself if you are feeling fine. There is a long list of people who are waiting to speak with you. If you feel you are ready, I will let them in," Ponk explains, brushing his hands against his outfit to wipe away the dust. He walks over to the painted white door. Ponk looks over his shoulder at Tommy. The blonde nods his head.

Ponk exits the room. After a moment, the door opens again. Tommy takes his bet as to who could be standing there. He would have lost that bet. He was certain it was going to be Tubbo, but the last time Tommy checked, his best friend was not a grown woman with raven wings and dark eyes.

Kara marches into the room with her hands full of healing potions. Each one glitters in the low light entering through the window a few feet from Tommy's bedside. Kara puts the potions on the nightstand next to Tommy's glass of water. She organizes them with a methodical expression on her face. Her hands continue to twitch as they rise above the necks of the bottles. She looks away from Tommy to the corner of the room. It is only so she may drag a chair over to his bedside, but Tommy feels like she is purposefully avoiding his gaze. Her twitching wings inform Tommy of her antsy disposition. Tommy frowns, waiting for his teacher to sit down. Kara stares at the potions she brought instead of Tommy. Her lips are set firmly, and she breathes harshly through her nose. Tommy opens his mouth to speak, but Kara turns to face him with narrowed eyebrows. "You have much schoolwork to catch up on."

Tommy blinks, then bursts into laughter. Out of all the statements she could have spoken to him, she chose to remind him that he isn't caught up on his homework. It is so unusual and unexpected that Tommy's hands fold over his stomach to help him calm down. He physically shakes under the weight of his amusement. He meets Kara's eyes with joyful tears starting to sparkle in his blue eyes. "I will return to my studies soon."

"You will return when you are well enough to do so. Only a fool would not rest when he is weary," Kara corrects Tommy. He nods his agreement. Although he feels fine right now, he should probably get in a better mental state before he sets out to complete the assignments he missed. Kara uses her chin to gesture to the potions. "They are now yours. My only request is that you use them when you need them."

"I will," Tommy murmurs, reaching his hand out. He takes Kara's bandaged hand. He smiles at her, and she squeezes his hand with a half-smile rising to her lips.

—

"Who are you?" A voice calls from the darkness.

"Fucking hell," Beau mutters to herself. Her wings flare out, and she holds both of her daggers in her hands. Blood drips across the blades, unnoticed by the avian wielding them.

"That is quite the name you have," the voice responds. "Did you give yourself that name to seem cool, or did your parents dislike you a great deal?"

"Show yourself, asshole," Beau demands, pointing one dagger towards the darkness. Ranboo reaches for her, hoping she will shut up before the person in the shadows decides to use the same move it used on the monsters of the night on Ranboo and Beau.

"That isn't my name, Fucking Hell," The voice laughs pleasantly. A figure emerges from the shadows. Beau tenses, her wings flaring up with enough force to knock Ranboo to the side. The Enderian stumbles, nearly falling to the ground. He catches himself, his eyes darting away from Beau to stare at the person now revealed by the sliver of moonlight coming through the clouds and the lamp Ranboo dropped earlier.

It is a young man with pale skin. He has icy blue eyes with a ring of poison green around the edge of his pupils. His hair is black, but the roots are a sterling white. He wears a black cloak with gold trimming. He wears a blue corset with golden buttons over a black shirt, and his pants are dark gray. His brown leather boots are tinged black like they've been covered in soot. He wears a belt with a buckle shaped like a deer skull. The man wears a pointed black hat on the side of his head, and there is a faint green energy pulsating around him. The most intriguing part is his pointed ears. This person is an elf, and by the look of the energy around him, he's also a witch.

"My name is Scott."

—

Fran immediately jumps into the bed with Tommy. The blonde laughs quietly, feeling the weight of the earth elemental press up against him. He wraps his arms around her neck. Fran nuzzles close, licking his face with her cool, dry tongue. Despite no saliva being left behind, Tommy still grabs at her snout to pull her away. She complies with his request for once, lowering her head down on the pillow beside him.

"She's missed you," Sam explains, sitting down in the chair beside the bed. He lifts a hand up to rub against Fran's ears. She makes a dog-like noise of appreciation, and a quiet whine fills the room as Sam removes his hand. She stops whining when Sam instead takes Tommy's hand, the one slightly underneath Fran's neck from the way Tommy is hugging her. Sam squeezes, a smile coming to face and a tired look showing in his golden eyes. "She wasn't the only one."

Tommy presses his face against Fran's neck to hide his expression. Fran's smooth texture cools down his warm cheeks, and he hears something being put down. Tommy peeks above Fran's neck to see Sam placing a book in between the bottles of potions. Sam draws his hand away without looking at them for too long. "I brought you a book of Badlands poetry. They were some of my favorites. My son's, too, if that matters to you. It will assist you in chasing away the boredom."

Tommy smiles, looking at the parts of the book's cover he can see. The potion bottles obscure or refract parts of it, but he thinks there is a painting of a young boy and a jinn woman touching their hands together. Although reading has never been Tommy's favorite pastime, he thinks the book will provide some invaluable insight into the Badlands.

"Did your training serve you well?" Sam asks somberly.

"It did," Tommy assures Sam. His voice is quiet, absorbed by Fran's stony skin. Sam hears him, though, because he's one of the Badlands greatest warriors and the one who trained probably the most powerful warrior in the land. "I was able to protect that which is precious to me."

Sam smiles. "That is good. I am going to start officially training you in one of the schools. I was uncertain which school would be best for you, but it seems you have learned which one you belong to without my intervention."

Tommy frowns questioningly. Sam's smile only brightens. "I have spent so long around the Earth Elemental King and Reaper to see the essence of a school in someone's aura. I do not know what circumstances led to this, but I can see that you have taken to the Art of the Golden Tempest."

"I'm willing to learn whatever you're willing to teach," Tommy says with certainty in his eyes. Fran presses closer to him, and Sam looks proud. Tommy feels a strong joy overtake him.

—

"W-what?" Ranboo mutters. He tries to force more coherent words out of his mouth, but each one falls short of being understandable. They all sound like garbled noise in his ears, so he cannot imagine what this ancient being in front of him would hear.

"Silence," The being demands. Ranboo closes his mouth tightly, nodding his head. He feels panic tear into his heart like the claws of a deadly monster. It makes it difficult to breathe, and the pain nearly knocks Ranboo unconscious. Ranboo tells himself he cannot because he cannot be in a vulnerable state right now, but Ranboo is kidding no one, least of all himself. This being is far more powerful than Ranboo is. "When I learned a creature of the Abyss would save this land, I was skeptical. Looking at you now, I almost cannot believe the feats they ascribe to your name."

"I- well-"

"Did I say you could speak?" The being says with a dangerous amount of calm in their voice and power in their eyes. Ranboo's hands close around the sand underneath him, coarse and cold against his skin. Despite the obviously threatening situation, he somewhat feels at ease by the treatment. It is familiar, and he knows from experience that this sort of arrogance is earned. He could use someone powerful on his side for this upcoming fight. "Despite my reservations, you are the only person I can appoint to this sacred mission. Listen well, Child of the Void, for I will speak once and never again."

The being snaps their fingers. Ranboo startles when the sand underneath him begins swirling. The wind grabs onto his limbs, pulling him upward. He struggles to keep his head above his body as he is shot into the sky. The being floats with him with the ease of someone who can fly of their own violation. The figure and the wind do not stop moving upward until it feels like they have become one with the stars. The figure gestures down to the shifting dunes of sand and the cities dotting the horizon. "Look upon this land. It is mine. I created it and preserved it with my dear friend for many rises of the sun and settings of the moon. The people upon this land are my children. The animals who dwell upon it are my pets. The plants that find refuge are my garden. Do not doubt what I am willing to do to protect that which belongs to me."

The wind twists, and Ranboo is suddenly looking into the eyes of the ancient jinn. "I am Reaper, the Endless Night and the Threshold of the Haboob, the Fury of the Sun and the Tranquility of the Oasis. I am every grain of sand along the banks and every star in the desert sky. And you, young Enderian, will assist me in becoming the salvation of this once prosperous land before ruin befalls us all."

—

Tommy holds a globe in his hands. Instead of showing the land and oceans, it shows the night sky folded around an internal orb of white-gold light. The constellations move across the globe, throbbing with light as Tommy runs his fingers along the blues, purples, and blacks existing between the stars. He smiles happily, pulling it right against his chest. It had been a gift from Gemini and Fwhip. The two of them thanked Tommy for saving the tsaritsa and Gemini commented on his magic that he had been keeping secret from everyone, but they quickly left after delivering their gift. Tommy didn't mind. The gift was well worth the awkward visit, and he was thankful to Fwhip for keeping Gemini off his back about the magic thing.

As Tommy traces along a pattern on the globe, the door opens. Tommy looks up, and he sees a flash of color dart across the room. Tommy doesn't have time to put his globe away as someone launches themselves onto his bed. As Tubbo scrambles to situate himself on the bed, Tommy sets the globe right beside him. Tubbo throws his arms around Tommy's shoulders. Tubbo tucks himself close.

"Tubbo," Schlatt hisses. He places a basket of good-smelling treats down on the chair beside Tommy's bed. Schlatt crosses his arms over his chest, looking at his son as if he's trying to telepathically communicate that Tubbo should get away from the bed-ridden third prince.

"It is fine, Duke Schlatt. It is nothing to worry about," Tommy informs the noblemen as he wraps his arms around Tubbo's waist. He holds his best friend close to him, finding solace in Tubbo's heartbeat. He will never admit this out loud, but Tommy adores being cared about like this.

—

"What are you doing awake?" Eryn questions, looking up from the block of wood he was carving into.

"I could ask you the same thing," Ranboo murmurs quietly, sitting down at the window. He pulls the blanket around him tighter. He looks down at the street beneath them. Even though it is late, there are several people walking around the road with loud laughter and nonsensical shouting. Even though they are on the edges of Las Nevadas, the people continue to party as if this were the capital. Ranboo wonders if the Badlands will be similar.

"Someone has to keep watch," Eryn shrugs. Ranboo glances at him. If everyone from the Badlands is anything like Eryn, Ranboo doubts they would be as hedonistic as the people of Las Nevadas.

"We aren't camping outside. There are no monsters to defend the group from," Ranboo tells him.

Eryn snorts. "I'm surprised you've lasted this long in your journey with that attitude. Monsters come in all shapes and sizes, Ranboo. The cruelest ones look like you and I."

Eryn looks back down to his carving. He pauses. He shrugs, moving his carving knife again and speaking at the time, "Well, not always like you and I. While there are a handful more half-jinns in the Badlands, there hasn't been a creature of the void in this dimension since ancient times. At least, that's if the stories are to be believed. Who knows what the empire does with their portal?"

"They don't bring Enderians over using the portal," Ranboo assures Eryn.

"If you say so," Eryn shrugs. He looks up from his carving to meet Ranboo's eyes. "But if your words are true, it makes me wonder how you ended up here. Or maybe the better question is why."

Ranboo doesn't admit he's been wondering that for his entire journey.

—

"There was once a young woman who woke up in an unfamiliar place without knowing how she got there. In fact, she did not know who she was, either," The jester begins a story. "Instead of wallowing in things she couldn't change, she stood up on her own two feet and explored the place she found herself in. Eventually, she came upon a building. A man was staying at this building. Upon seeing the woman, he asked her what she was doing. She explained that she was trying to remember who she was and how she got there. The man, a kind soul, invited her to stay with him until she could remember a clue to herself and her past. The woman agreed, and she began staying at what the man called the sanctuary. It was a place sealed away with magic that preserved the lives of all sorts of animals, including magical ones, so that they would not go extinct.

"The woman had no affinity for animals, but she was an excellent gardener. The man built her a greenhouse, and his sanctuary came to protect plants of all types alongside animals. As the woman spent time cultivating the plants and basking in the sunlight, she began to remember pieces of herself. They were fragments, useless on their own, but they began painting a picture of hardship and betrayal. She went to the man, asking him if he would choose to accept his past memories if he believed them to be painful. The man told her that he would so that he might be able to remember the good times he once had and so he might remember the people he once loved. The woman accepted his advice, and she went to meditate near the sunflowers. It was at this moment that the truth came upon her.

"But there is a reason some things are best left forgotten. The knowledge the woman found drove her mad. She destroyed the greenhouse in a magical explosion known as a fulmination. Instead of abandoning the woman, the man dug through the rubble to find her. He found her corpse. He mourned her loss, burying her underneath a willow tree. He prayed for her soul to find peace and apologized for encouraging her to find her memories.

"Years later, another person came to the sanctuary just as the sun was beginning to rise. The man came out to greet them. The new person was able to reform the greenhouse the way it was before the man's companion's fulmination. The plants regrew healthier than they were before. All around the greenhouse were large sunflowers that followed the person instead of the sunlight. The man asked her if she was a goddess. She told him she was only a saint. The real goddess was locked away. She was on a pilgrimage to get closer to her goddess so that she might be able to rescue her. The man offered to go with her, but she told him his duty was to protect the sanctuary. She told him that he was one of her goddess' favored children. The saint gave him a symbol of the goddess' love in the form of a sunflower tattoo on his heart. He devoted himself both to the goddess and to the saint, and his magical land of sanctuary prospered."

"That story had a happy ending," Tommy says skeptically. The jester's stories usually never have happy endings. Even the ones that aren't bad are always melancholic. It is a trademark of the stories the jester reserves just for Tommy, the ones that feel a little too much like the truth... especially when the jester references a saint with regenerative abilities and a sunflower tattoo.

"The story is unfinished. The man continues to guard the sanctuary. The saint is still on her pilgrimage. The goddess is still sealed away," The jester explains. He glances out of the window with a forlorn expression. "I hope the story will have a happy conclusion. I am quite fond of this protector."

"He sounds like the fiery guardian," Tommy says, wrapping his arms around his knees. He leans his cheek against his forearm, looking at the jester. He remembers the first story the jester ever told him. A tale about a dragon who lost all of his friends and was cursed as a result. Tommy's eyes widen as he remembers a detail about that story. It was the Lady of Agriculture who cursed the dragon... the Maiden of Sunflowers, the jester called her.

"In a way, perhaps he might be," The jester replies with a cheeky smile on his face. His smile softens when he meets Tommy's eyes. "How is your sickness, little prince?"

"It is clearing up," Tommy admits. With the knowledge that fate can be changed, Tommy feels more alive than he ever has. There is no need to worry about his death because he has confirmation he can circumvent it. He cannot stop working now, of course, but he doesn't need to worry so much if he does put in all the effort.

"That is good," The jester nods. He lowers his cheek against the palm of his hand. "You know, little prince, I believe it is about time you give me the gift of a name. It need not be a good one for it will only be uttered by your lips."

"Ah," Tommy says, tilting his head to the side. Ranboo learned in passing that nobles gave their jesters special names when the connection ran deep enough, but nobody had been close to the jester, not even Ranboo, so he was never given a name. It is an honor for Tommy, so he tries to think of a good one. He looks around for inspiration, and his eyes land on the starry globe. "Orion... Orion is a fine name."

—

"There are so many stars," Beau says, and it sounds like a complaint coming from her.

"I think they're beautiful," Freddie replies, hitting her arm with his wing. She glares at him. He glares back. As is the usual case, the two of them start roughhousing in the corner of Ranboo's eyes.

"It is delightful to see so many stars," Oli whispers with reverence in their tone. They clasp their hands together as they stare into the night sky.

"Does it not make you feel..." Ranboo begins, but trails off, feeling stupid.

Oli looks at him patiently. "Feel what, Ranboo?"

"I just..." Ranboo rolls his shoulders. "The night sky always makes me feel so... small and insignificant. It's so vast. There's so much I don't know about it, and that reminds me of how little I know about the world. I barely remember my home, but I do remember the void. I hated the void. The night sky is just like that void, though there are a few stars and the moon to separate the endless darkness..."

"I see. It is not an uncommon feeling to have regarding the sky. I knew many people at the academy that did not have the stomach for astronomical classes," Oli smooths over all of Ranboo's worries about saying something that contradicts how nearly everyone else in the group, and probably the whole continent, believes. "But perhaps you should take comfort in your insignificance. Whatever your problems may be, however unsurmountable they may seem, they are little in the grand scheme of the universe. When you compress them like that, they should not feel as troublesome as they once were."

Ranboo laughs awkwardly, not understanding what Oli means at all. He is about to say as much when he hears a voice cutting in. It seems Eryn and Tubbo have returned from their scouting mission. "You don't get to do that when our mission is to save an entire kingdom from devastation."

—

In the dark of the night, Kristin comes into Tommy's room. He opens his eyes languidly, registering slowly that his mother is there. She crawls into the bed beside him. She lays on her side, facing Tommy who also lies on his side. She pulls him close to her. Tommy is able to bury his face in the warm crook of her neck. She runs her fingers through Tommy's hair, lulling him into a sense of comfort.

She shatters his comfort when she speaks, her voice trembling with unshed tears and sobs that fell from her lips moments before. "We went word to your brother at the academy of what happened. He and Shelby were on their way back. They were attacked, and... and they're gone, Theseus... my baby's dead."

—

"Why are you so cruel?"