A lone figure trudged up and down the slippery sand dunes, bearing a message too great to be read as text on a screen. The wind kicked gritinto her eyes, and she sighed. It seemed as though she would never grow accustomed to all the cursed sand everywhere, no matter the years she had lived in this desert.

As the messenger crested another dune, she could finally spot the high towers and sweeping arches of the palace in the distance. With the end of her journey in sight, she hastened her pace. She hated to be the one to break the terrible news, but someone had to do it.

The regal city of Antioch never failed to astound her, due partly to its beauty and partly because of its unbearable contrast to the state ofthe rest of the country. While every other city in Uthorix held the hustle and bustle of townsfolk trying to scrape by under the watch of peacekeepers, Antioch was filled instead with swishes of garments dyed every color of the rainbow, worn by aristocrats strutting around like the self-important peacocks that they were. The messenger felt drab in her stained moss green cloak, but she was used to it. Besides, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Not allowing herself to stick around to see the sights,the messenger pushed onward. By the time she reached the palace gates, it was nearly dusk. She had been walking all day, dreading what was yet to come. The palace guards waved her through, and a couple more guards fell in line to escort her to the queen. The dreaded moment was soon upon her.

She barely caught a glimpse of the grand foyer before she was led down a hallway to her left, and, before she knew it, she stood at the entrance of the throne room. A massive stained glass window illuminated the room, drawing attention to the lines of pillars leading to the thrones. The messenger pushed down her qualms and focused on putting one foot in front of the other until the guards on either side of her stopped. She took a deep bow, not ready to look Queen Olna in the eye.

"You may rise." The queen's voice dripped with authority and demanded undivided loyalty. Just those three words sent shivers down the messenger's spine. She finally looked up to see the woman sitting on the throne, clad in midnight blue and gold. Her dark hair was tucked into a sleek updo, a stark contrast against the golden band she wore on her brow.

The messenger cleared her throat. "Your Majesty, I bring terrible news from Cadrina. You see, His Majesty—"

A scuffle came from behind the king's throne, and a small face peeked over the side of the armrest. Queen Olna turned and beckoned the child toward her, a slight grimace flashing across her face.

The boy—no older than five, with his mother's dark hair and undoubtedly his father's facial structure—shuffled up to the queen, staring at the messenger. Her Majesty whispered to her son, and the messenger caught fragments: "What are you doing..." and "...not meant to be here."

Evidently, the young prince was allowed to stay, which only made the messenger's job much harder.

The queen nodded and said, "My apologies. What news do you bring of my husband?"

"His Majesty..." It would do no good to continue to delay. "His Majesty King Kornin has been assassinated by rebels from the outlying districts. I offer my sincerest condolences." She couldn't bear to look at the prince.

Queen Olna rose from her throne, a terrifying look in her eye. The messenger wasn't sure what combination of negative thoughts that look held, but it was enough to make her lower her gaze and take a step back. She knew next to naught about the royal family, but their tempers were infamous for ending in destruction.

She had been watching the queen's body language for signs of imminent danger, but she wasn't expecting the electrifying jolt that ran through her and knocked her to the ground. Was this the queen's mindsight? She had never witnessed magic strong enough to rip open someone's mind and have them collapse, yet there she lay, convulsing in pain on the marble floor.

As soon as it came, the vice gripping her mind released.

Queen Olna sighed. "It appears you speak the truth," she said, her authoritative tone exponentially weaker. "Leave my sight."

The messenger gladly took her leave and never looked back.

Prince Nulsol didn't understand what the messenger had said, but judging by his mom's reaction, something terrible had happened to his dad. He was later told exactly what had happened, and that day marked the beginning of his new life.

In the coming weeks, many new people came through the palace. Most came for funeral preparations or to provide condolences, but one visitor came almost daily. This person was a boy the same age as Nulsol, with darker skin and unruly curls and a permanent smile, and his name was Skel Kando.

Skel was the son of General Xyrev Kando, and the queen believed he would be a good influence on Nulsol. Surprisingly, they got along well. They would hide from the world andtraverse the royal gardens, the library, or the long hallways and perch under giant statues of the goddesses Space and Time. They discussed everything and nothing: secret codes, new adventures to have, their concerns, and above all their desire to run away and explore theuniverse beyond Uthorix.

Those days were their golden age, their special place. And, like many others' childhoods, theirs ended far too soon. At age 12, Nulsol and Skel snuck out of the palace, despite Nulsol being banned from leaving. They saw the sights, browsed shops, tasted samples, watched a performing artist tell a story with their magic, and bumped into a group of people with strange black capes giving a speech.

Everyone wore clothes to match the color of their role in society, but this group was making it clear they had none. Instead, they wore a symbol of a bird in flight: the rebel insignia.

The rebels spoke of a tyrannical crown that tortured petty thieves and stole supplies from the districts to maintain their luxurious lifestyle. Something stirred within Nulsol, unwinding his
mother's prejudice against the rebels that resided in him. He wanted to hear more, but all too soon, the guards caught up with him and Skel. Just like that, Nulsol's first taste of freedom was over.

Their day out had been innocent enough in intent, but to Queen Olna, it was treason. She sent Skel away for indoctrinating her son with rebel propaganda, then forcefully dragged Nulsol to his room to be punished. For all his efforts to block out what happened that day, from then on he was marked, scarred in more ways than one.

---

Though Nulsol dreaded the upcoming empty pleasantries and meaningless dances that came with his coronation ball, he had to admit that the seamstress had outdone herself. He loathed his usual formal attire, but this time they had commissioned an up-and-coming seamstress for a fresh voice. Nulsol admired his navy dress uniform adorned with gold chevrons on the chest. This new cape wasn't flashy or heavy like the capes he was normally forced to wear and for this, he loved it.

Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

Most attendees preferred to arrive fashionably late to the ball, so Nulsol's anxiety had extra time to build up. Eventually though, more and more people filled the ballroom, so less attention was directed toward him.

His mother cleared her throat behind him, looking every part the queen with her stiff floor-length dress, high collar, and crown. Her relentless glare was Nulsol's cue to start mingling. Wanting nothing more than to disappear into the walls, Nulsol performed his duty, joining in on passing conversations and greeting groups of bashful noblewomen before retiring to a corner.

He could barely tolerate these events now, so he couldn't imagine how he would manage them when he became king one day. And that "one day" would be sooner rather than later, consideringthat this party was to honor his official coming of age. But would his mother really give up her power that easily? She wasn't born of royal blood, but no one could deny her strength or stop her from ruling for her entire life.

The skin on the back of his neck prickled; his mother was watching him again. Nulsol's time alone was up. He sighed and started to make his way around the room, scouting for another
group to join, when he spotted a flash of dark curls and a red cape. He froze. Was that—? No, it couldn't be. Not after all these years...

Almost against his will, Nulsol found himself being drawn in. He had to know who that was, if his mind was playing tricks on him. He spotted the curly hair again and—yes, it was him.

Skel Kando had the beautiful familiarity only found in old friends, with just enough of the appeal of a stranger after so many years apart. He wore a soldier's uniform now, and his hair was styled more maturely, shaved along the sides and left longer on top, and he was smiling at a joke another soldier had made, and he was so tall now, and he was turning to see who was approaching him, and—

Nulsol lost his courage.

He walked past the group of soldiers and through thedoor leading to the garden. As he leaned on the stone railing, he cringed and started muttering to himself. "Gods, I'm so stupid.Stupid, stupid..." Once he had finally collected his thoughts, Nulsol exhaled deeply and took in the familiar gardens.

He used to come here a lot when he was younger, pretending that this was his safe haven from the world, from his mother. All that lay for him here were old memories of adventures and lazy afternoons with Skel.

"I thought I'd find you out here, Your Highness," called a familiar voice.

Nulsol turned around to finally see his childhood friend properly, but he was still at a loss for words.

Skel took his place next to him on the railing, leaving more distance between them then there used to be. "Do you remember coming out here all the time?" Skel said at last.

The prince turned his gaze back upon the gardens. "I do."

"Remember that time you pretended to be a magician and accidentally set a bush on fire?"

"Ugh, how could I forget," he groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "The gardener almost killed me!"

Skel laughed hard, and Nulsol laughed with him becausehe had missed this—genuine laughter. And knowing he could still elicit such reactions from Skel finally bridged the gap between them once more.

They went on like that, walking through the garden for hours, moments, forever: the prince and the soldier took turns cracking jokes, reminiscing, and discussing what they had been doing in
the years apart.

"So, your dad finally made you join the military, huh?" asked Nulsol as they settled on a bench hidden from the balcony's view.

"Yeah, but I saw it coming. If your father's the general, everyone expects you to just," he threw his hand up and sighed, "follow in his footsteps."

"I know what you mean."

Skel snorted. "Yeah, you would, Your Highness."

"Hey, I mean it!" Nulsol pushed him with his shoulder.

"I know." Skel fidgeted with the hem of his coat. "I'm sorry you had to be alone with her all that time. I just wish I had been there."

"Skel—"

A shrill scream rang through the air, and both boys jumped to their feet. They turned toward the ballroom just in time to see an explosion of electricity blow out the windows. Swarms of aristocrats ran screaming from all exits, dashing toward the safety of their podships.Someone was laughing loudly. A different voice yelled: "FIND THE PRINCE!"

The rebellion had finally infiltrated the palace.

Skel swore under his breath. "At least we're out here. Forgive me for this, Nulsol." He removed the crown from Nulsol's head and began working on unclasping his own red cape. "Takeoff your cape, too, I have an idea."

The prince obeyed, too shaken to say anything. Skel wrapped his shoulders in the red soldier's cape. It was a hasty disguise, but it would have to do. They hurriedly found the small gap under a bush that they used to crawl under as kids, and made use of it one last time.

The boys ran from the explosions and shouting, from the rebels and the crown, from the strangling societal expectations, hand in trembling hand. They ran toward the private hangar
where the soldiers' ships lay, careful to avoid escaping guests.

Freedom was in sight.

This was their chance. After tonight, they didn't have to ever look back. They couldn't show their faces on Uthorix again, so they were finally free to explore the universe like they had always wanted. Skel released Nulsol's hand to unlock his podship, and Nulsol stood guard, electricity crackling at his fingertips.

Guards barged through the doors, their spears directed at the boys. "Stop what you're doing and hand over the prince," snarled the woman who looked to be in charge. She marched closer to them, and the other soldiers followed suit.

As they approached, Skel stopped what he was doing and inched his way in front of Nulsol. The ship's hatch was open, tantalizingly close. The soldiers were at their throats now, daring them to make a move. But before Nulsol could do anything, Skel shoved him into the podship and slammed the hatch shut.

"No!" The prince scrambled to open the door, but it was too late; Skel had locked it. Nulsol rushed for the windshield and saw Skel facing down the rebel leader. Both had glowing eyes and electricity surrounding them, ready to use their mindsight on the offense.

"I didn't take you for a deserter, Kando," scoffed the girl.

"And I didn't take you for a traitor, Avila."

She laughed. "Is this really the path you want to take? Spending your last moments defending a crown that has done nothing for us? I respected you, Kando, you could have joined us."

"No, not if it means abandoning him again."

Skel lunged at her, but the situation was helpless. He was fighting empty-handed against a ruthless fighter with a weapon, plus the other rebel soldiers were moving to pin him down. In a flash, Avila swung her spear and Skel ducked. He sent out a wave of electricity that sent back the inner circle of soldiers, but he was too late to react to the next attack. Avila stabbed him in the side,sending him to his knees as he tried to staunch the blood flow.

He looked to Nulsol through the podship windshield, his eyes wet. He gave a weak smile and mouthed just one word: "Go."

Avila clubbed him on the head with the butt of her spear, and the left side of Skel's face turned crimson before he collapsed.

Nulsol cried out, wanting nothing more than to finally put his mother's teachings to use and avenge Skel. But his vision was blurry and his chest ached and his legs were frozen and he couldn't breathe and distantly he thought he was having a panic attack, but all that mattered was Skel's crumpled body mere feet from the podship and the soldiers banging on the hatch, demanding to be let in.

He couldn't let Skel's sacrifice be in vain.

Frantically, he searched the panel for the ignition and switched it on, taking a seat to steady himself. The podship rose shakily as he fumbled for the proper controls. He would make it out
alive. He had to.

The ship shot off into the sky, leaving behind everything Nulsol had ever known.

It was never meant to end like this.

He waited until the planet Uthorix was a tiny blip behind him before he switched on the ship's autopilot, plugging in one of the farthest planets with intelligent life he could find on the map: Earth. Finally, Nulsol slumped to the floor, Skel's cape on his shoulders suddenly weighing a thousand pounds.

If only he had defended himself. If only he had been there for Skel. If only he had been any use whatsoever. If only, if only, if only.

Nulsol's mind drifted to the great void surrounding him, then to nothing as his tears carried him to sleep.