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Chapter Text

A noble-looking man strode forth and his young daughter of nine summers paced dutifully at his side, though she seemed more interested in making sure her feet hit every darkened cobblestone and skipped every light one rather than the destination they were approaching. They had embarked on a journey down the path winding to the very edge of Alexandria, one not-so-often trekked by ordinary citizens.

That was because these two were no ordinary citizens. 

"But, Father! 'Advancements' are so tiresome, and new 'acquaintances' are even worse! Must you introduce me to yet another man who claims he's every answer for Alexandria, and must I listen to him?"

In fact, it was King Alexandros XIV and his daughter, "Sphene..."

His voice took on a familiar warning tone, and the princess knew that she, indeed, must...even if she wanted nothing less. Yet, acceptance was not all he wanted out of his daughter--he wanted her to understand why; That this meeting with who would be leading Alexandria into the future was not meant to be torture. It was an opportunity.

So, he ceased his stride, waiting to have her full attention.

She didn't stop her skipping until she felt a tug on her hand, preventing her from progressing any farther. Groaning, she turned to face her father as he took her other hand in his and knelt in front of her. Not that he needed to anymore (she was quite tall already for her age) but no matter how much she grew, he would ever treat her with the same tender kindness as he did on the day she was born. Even during a tantrum. 

Reluctant to look his way, she instead glanced down the street to Otis, her personal bodyguard who had halted his advances just as suddenly as her father had. The clatter of his armor was ever-present in Sphene's life. She'd grown used to it--even a bit fond. Oh, how she yearned to simply entertain Otis rather than whomever this person she was to meet...

"...You're at an age now where you must stay informed," His words remained patient and steady, dragging Sphene out from her daydreams and back into the present. Once her eyes were on his, he continued, "The decisions that are being made now will pave way for Alexandria's future: Your future."

She did not like when her parents made mention of the future. The future was scary; It was unknown; It was when she would have to take on the throne, and when her parents will have passed on.

No, Sphene definitely did not like to think of it...yet she knew it to be inevitable. So, her expression now softened, and she sighed a reluctant, "Yes, Father." 

With a pat of her head, he lifted his own, looking up to the building they were standing in front of. Sphene's eyes followed his gaze, and saw that they were at, "The sanatorium?"

Her trepidation did not escape the king, and he nodded, standing to his full height and pushing open the door himself. There was a noisy clatter as Otis rushed from down the street to try and do it for him, though he was much too late for the favor. 

Sphene had never been in the sanatorium, but its presence was ever-looming. A tall building right at the edge of civilization, its shadow casted heavy over the southern part of Alexandria. She knew it to be a place where those badly ill were treated attentively and with kindness. Though, she also knew that those who went into the sanatorium rarely (if ever) returned out. 

She made an attempt to swallow down her fear. No longer was she prancing about, or playing little games with the stones in the ground. 

As they walked down a long hallway, passing many closed doors, she found herself wondering: Was it for the best that she could not see the suffering that was surely taking place behind them? Is ignorance truly bliss? Or was she brought along here to overcome such naivety? 

Sphene grasped her forearm in a half-hug, but her father, sensing her unease, wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She melted into the comfort of his hold until a door that was not closed finally came into sight.

"There." 

Desperate to see some form of life in this depressing place (boring old diplomat or not), Sphene broke free from his hold and ran wasted no time in taking a peek. But what she saw inside the room was not boring; Nor was it old; Nor did it seem very diplomatic in nature.

Instead, there was a boy sitting up in bed. He was pale as death itself, and, like his skin, his hair and eyes seemed nearly devoid of color. Yet, his lips were noticeably rosy--the only visible sign he was alive and not merely an upright corpse, for he did not move, either; Not even blink with his big, wide eyes that he hadn't seemed to have grown into just yet.

Sphene couldn't decide whether or not this was better than what she'd originally anticipated, so she stood, a bit dumbstruck, as eyes trailed the boy's body's many connections to nearby machinery. Never before in her young life had she seen someone dependent on a machine like that, but what she was feeling wasn't repulsion, or even pity. Rather, intrigue: This situation, unusually unexpected as it was, was panning out to be much more interesting than she'd originally assumed.

"Do not worry, Your Highness. I'm not contagious. Not yet, anyroad," the pale boy spoke in what was probably meant to be a reassuring tone. However, it sounded more condescending than anything else. Still, a wry smile crossed his expression as though what he'd just spoken had been meant to be a joke. 

And maybe it had been, but Sphene hadn't taken it as such. Rather, with near-offense, she snapped, "I wasn't thinking that!" 

To prove her point, she stomped her way across the room and very pointedly plopped down upon the boy's bedside.

"See?!"

After crossing her arms in what looked like quite the petulant display of stubbornness, she sharply turned her head towards him, the pout upon her lips only proving the truth that her parents always spoke: She wore her heart on her sleeve, and it was as easy to read her as it was a book of pictures. 

The boy'd bounced slightly on the bed and he'd blinked at the sudden movement, but he notably made no effort to scoot away from the now-very-close princess atop his bed. 

After an awkward stretch of silence, the boy finally confirmed, "I see."

Sphene didn't know why her cheeks were burning so warm. Never before had she been so embarrassed at one of these meetings and it had only just begun!

"Are you really the future of Alexandria my father has been going on about?" 

"Do not judge others by appearance, or even their age. Else, everyone would doubt your own competence, would they not?"

The king's gently warning tone was back again, approaching the bed and placing a hand on her back while shooting the boy an apologetic look.

Though it was a scolding (gentle as it was), and she knew her typical diplomatic nature had simply not yet been present for this supposed important meeting--young Sphene's boundless curiosity was now captured by yet another enigma that demanded an answer.

"By the by: How old are you?" she asked--no, demanded of the boy.

He did not question or deny her authority over him, and answered coolly, "Ten winters." 

"You're my elder?!"

Sphene could hardly believe it! This boy? Yet, he was so small and frail! Surely, it could not be. Surely--

"--Sphene, this is Calyx. He's a very intelligent young man with many ideas that will push Alexandria forward into a new age." 

The king smiled at the boy he was about to entrust the fate of his people in...though icy eyes were fixed on his daughter, and his daughter alone.

Sphene initially met that relentless gaze, but quickly turned her eyes down to her lap. Perhaps she'd lost a bit of her earlier bravado, but she wasn't going to let that stop her from asking, "If that's the case, then...Father, may I speak alone with the supposed future of Alexandria?"

Calyx's index finger twitched atop where it sat on his lap, but he didn't react in any other way. Sphene's father, however, sighed, then smiled...seemingly content. For, a connection forged between the youth of their people was sure to be a wonderful foundation for what was to come. After all, as king, he was meant to look to the future and lay the groundwork for those who would come after. With a brain like Calyx's, surely he would end up dutifully at Sphene's side one day, once she was Queen. 

When Otis was coaxed out of the door and it was shut behind him, the room fell quiet, save for her father's lone footsteps eventually disappearing down the hallway. Otis must have remained on guard outside the door.

For that reason, Sphene wanted to remain rather quiet. She murmured: "Even if it's just a few seasons, I cannot believe you're older than me..."

"They say I probably won't grow another ilm." 

Taken aback by his blunt response to what she'd meant as a playful (albeit petulant) jest, all Sphene could ask was: "Really?" As she turned to look at him once more.

Calyx found the answer too obvious to speak aloud. Instead, his gaze shifted over to the vase that sat upon his bedside table. Sphene's soon followed, unsure what else to do in the awkwardness of the silence, and she eyed the flowers that adorned it with an adoration of their appearance. 

They were delicate and pale, just like Calyx...

...

...it wasn't often she was around other children her age. So she was simply curious about him, that was all! There definitely wasn't any other reason her mind was so preoccupied with him all the sudden that every little thing was reminding her of him!

"White lilies."

"They're beautiful," Sphene confessed, hoping the words weren't as transparent as she felt they were.

"They're sympathy flowers," Calyx replied, "Typically presented to the dead at their funerals."

Before she could come up with some way to respond to such a shockingly blunt statement, Calyx finally moved, leaning over towards the table with notable effort. Sphene didn't miss the little gasp of exertion he'd let out to do so, but out of courtesy, she pretended she did. But as soon as the ordeal began, it ended, and he had plucked a lily from the vase and returned to his usual position, leaning propped against his multitude of pillows. 

"I haven't seen my parents since they sent me here, but I'm told my mother delivers these every moon."

Calyx was content to continue on the conversation as casually as if the gap in it had never existed at all, but Sphene was not yet equipped with such charisma. She could only stutter an, "I'm sorry," finding it rather difficult to comprehend the idea of not being close to one's family. Her own parents were so very loving, it seemed impossible to imagine a world in which they would abandon her--especially in such a terribly dreary place like this.

But Calyx replied nonchalantly, like he was long-since content with the idea, "I assume that, eventually, one moon, she'll forget I exist all together."

Yet, despite the difficulty in finding proper words, Sphene had no trouble in finding the ones that poured from her mouth next: "What an awful assumption to have!"

Still, the other seemed apparently unmoved by the princess's childish outburst. Instead, he simply cocked an eyebrow, parting from the lily, lifting his chin up, and facing her once more.

"Is it?" He questioned, leaving enough of a pause before continuing for her to actually consider her answer to that hypothetical question, "Or, is it a merciful wish? Perhaps forgetting is simply less painful than having to say goodbye...?"

Something in the air seemed to shift. It wasn't as though he had raised his voice, or appeared angry despite the outburst directed towards him. He even posed his retort in a way that was gently kind, more of a suggestion than an imposition of his beliefs. It was much softer than Sphene would ascertain her own, at any rate, but still, the energy felt tense. 

Not only had she little interaction with those around her own age, but to be faced with someone who dared to question her, and act like it was such a small feat...

...Sphene was impressed--or rather, in actuality: Smitten. 

"Regardless, I've no intention of dying, for accepting death is the greatest sin a life can commit."

But before she could debate this topic any further, the door swung back open. Had Otis gotten antsy because of her outburst? Damn her emotions...and damn Otis.

Thus, their time had been cut short: Disappointing, because, despite disagreeing with him and finding him rather odd, Calyx was...intriguing to the princess. And he suddenly became significantly more so when he reached to present her with the lily he'd been examining. 

"For you, Your Highness."

And if Sphene's cheeks had been lightly dusted pink before, they were now fully fleshed red. The heat was unbearable, and she could do nothing but snatch the lily and jump up to her feet, rushing to hide behind her bulky protector.

"I trust you've gotten to know each other better, now?" The king asked, a knowing smile on his lips as he turned from Otis and Sphene towards the boy in bed. Calyx looked up at him, nodding once in acknowledgement.

"Then we shall carry on with discussions of the future." 

The conversations that followed were just about as boring as Sphene suspected they might be. Talks of technology and sciences she didn't quite grasp...most of it went over her head and suddenly, the strange boy became a lot less interesting than he had been. 

That was, until Sphene arrived back to the castle, and had one of the servants bring her a vase and some water to keep the lily in. 

After some pondering, she eventually ended up placing it next to her bed, paralleling where Calyx kept his. Upon realizing this was when Sphene started to grow intrigued once more. Tiresome discussions and important meetings aside, it was easy to wonder about him when he was so far away, off alone, in the sanatorium...

...

...as her head met her pillow and she closed her eyes, the events of the day continued to cycle on repeat through her mind, keeping her from sleep until the echoes of Calyx's words inevitably coaxed her to sleep. 

Chapter Text

At an unprecedented time like this, it was not her dear Otis she wanted at her side, nor her ever-dutiful Zelenia: No matter the good intention behind the words they'd surely try to speak, Sphene could not bear having to listen to them. And it wasn't as though listening to her own sobs was much better, but the company of others in the midst of grieving her parents' sudden deaths was simply not something the young lady wanted to entertain at the moment.

Especially when there was yet another knock at her bedroom door.

"Leave me be!" She called out, embarrassed by how stuffy-nosed she sounded...her people needed her to be strong---now more than ever--and yet, she'd not been able to entertain a single person's presence; no matter their pleas.

Just another thing to wallow about, she supposed.

Sphene pulled her legs closer to her chest, resting her forehead atop her knees.

Her cry was met with a silence on the other side of the door...had they left? After a prolonged moment, she turned her head and searched the small space beneath the door for the shadow of feet. Instead, she found something more: A familiar voice, asking, "Your Highness?" 

A surprising desire for company suddenly washed over Sphene.

She leapt out of bed, rushing to open the door for Calyx. Without saying another word, he lifted his hand and presented two white lilies to her. Sphene's gaze lowered, her eyes trembling as they glossed over yet again...

...

...Still, she took them carefully in hand as they were the most precious thing left in this world.

As if they were her parents' bodies.

"Sympathy flowers," was all she could choke out before bursting into tears yet again.

"A-Apologies..."

The two sat atop Sphene's bed, but, though some time had passed, she still could not stop her tears. Strong as her spirit typically was, this tragedy was enough to break even the mightiest. 

"...I invited you in to speak, and yet, I cannot get out the words..." 

Calyx's eyes lowered to his own lap. Admittedly, it was difficult to see his now-queen in this state. Never had he anyone to comfort, nor did anyone ever attempt to comfort him. But Sphene had become frequent company over the winters, and he favored her company. 

In fact, he'd grown quite accustomed to it. It made him feel...

...

...better, he'd decided: Despite everything. So, upon hearing of the tragedy, and the whispers about what dire straits Princess Sphene was in, he figured he would attempt to return the favor. Now that he was actually here, however, he found himself just as speechless as Sphene was.

Yet, for all she has done for him, he must do something.

He must try. 

After taking a deep breath, he announced, "Then I shall wait," before sighing and stretching out his legs in front of him, crossing one ankle over the other. The more comfortable position told Sphene that he'd every intention of staying as long as it took. 

She realized, then, how different Calyx's approach to her was compared to the others. He was not forcing his comfort onto her, not showering her in loving words, nor was he attempting to apologize for a tragedy that was the fault of no one individual. 

And she appreciated it, yet...

...

"...I feel as though there is an endless void within me: Relentlessly devouring all that I am. All that I've ever thought myself to be. It will not cease, and I...I cannot find any solace now that it's present."

Trying to do something, she forced herself to slip the lilies into the vase she kept on her bedside table since that day. Feeling the weight shift on the bed, Calyx glanced over, his gaze locking onto the lilies along with Sphene's. 

"But I must. I must, for the..." 

She sighed, turning away and shaking her head.

"...people. My people--oh, it's all so much, Calyx..."

Yet another warm tear rolled down her cheek but then, she was met with a starkly cool touch of a bare hand with bad circulation. Her breath caught in her throat while her eyes shot open wide, only to be met with Calyx's intense stare.

He was closer to her now, and--in that momet--she was suddenly quite aware of how much they'd both grown since first meeting.

"Then, perhaps we needn't speak of the present. Let our minds wander elsewhere."

Desperate to shift the conversation anywhere else than the looming responsibility of leading the entirety of Alexandria, Sphene had retrieved her treasured journal. It was full of doodles featuring creatures she had encountered throughout her life, as well as silly ones that existed nowhere else but on these pages, and in her imagination.

Now, she supposed, they would reside forever in Calyx's memory, too.

Lying on the bed on their bellies, each took a pen in hand and scribbled sketches of ideas they'd never shared with anyone else. New worlds to discover, machines to make the lives of Alexandrians carefree, armor they wish to one day don, not for the sake of protecting them from the war, but simply because it looked cool. 

The first time Calyx dropped his pen, Sphene said nothing. The second time, she couldn't help but spot the way his hand trembled before losing grip all together. When it toppled from his fingers for a third time, she swiped it up before he could and turned towards him with a forced smile. 

Because, perhaps she couldn't truly feel happiness on this sad sun, but she could at least try to lessen her dearest company's burdens.

"Come. Describe things to me and I shall draw them in your stead."

With that, they got back to work. Though his hands were weak, Calyx had no trouble verbally dictating the intricacies of future inventions. Sphene was a particularly good artist, so she was able to bring them to life on the page with a surprising accuracy. Admittedly, he was impressed--not just with that, but her ability to dream up fantastical creatures he'd never imagined prior, as well.

"With all the beasts in this place, there must be a machine to maintain peace." 

"They're not going to hurt anyone!" Sphene huffed. Calyx folded his arms and rest his chin atop them, pursing his lips and raising his eyebrows as he looked over the sketches of the giant seeker bats and scampering little gemkeepers.

Sphene grumbled, doodling up a rather standard-looking machine. Calyx said nothing, watching as her pen glided atop the parchment...but as she kept drawing, his eyes found their way to her face. Watching as her stubborn expression slowly melted into something softer.

Warmer.

Prettier, he thought, when a smile finally crossed her lips. 

"There!" 

With a giggle, she lifted her pen off the page and pushed the journal towards Calyx to show him that she'd now added a cutesy-looking face to its monitor and comically oversized hands. 

It made no sense, he thought. Such frivolity would inhibit its--

"If it looked like a friend, it'd be much more approachable to the people and the beasts alike, wouldn't it?" 

--but with that, Calyx changed his mind: "I suppose," he admitted with a sigh, unfolding his arms and pushing himself up to a sitting position with them. He plucked up Sphene's forgotten pen, then settled into a cross-legged position. 

"Anyroad, must you always be thinking of inventions?" Sphene asked, "What of organic life?"

She turned to look over her shoulder at him. He met her eyes, and for an extended moment, their eyes were interlocked and neither of them seemed to breathe...

...and then it passed, like all other moments before it. Calyx began to absently spin the pen between his fingers (so to focus on something else; anything else.) 

"A bed of white lilies," he finally replied, "as far as the eyes can see."

When the corners of Sphene's lips fell into a frown, he half-regretted being so honest...but then, she returned her attention to the journal and began to scribble the flowers spanning across the bottom of the spread they'd been working on.

"That would be beautiful. If only such a place existed," she murmured. 

Calyx then watched her draw. What followed was the longest silence between them yet...

...

...

...until he had thought of something that might redeem the situation. 

"We would need a vehicle to admire it all with. Something that could go up high. An air cab? Or, perhaps a wheel."

Sphene's pen stopped moving, and, after a pause to think, she hopped up to her knees with a suddenness that made Calyx blink owlishly, pen now solitary between his fingers. 

"Oh! I think I know the very one of which you speak! Have you ridden it, too?" 

Grey eyes narrowed, darting to one side while a little pout took over his expression. Begrudgingly, he admitted: "...No."

When she laughed at him, he took a sharp breath, glancing back over at her (not to admire her as she giggled. No, certainly not because her smiles were always so very pleasant.) 

"It's not as though it would be necessary to create something so simple. It only requires a basic understanding of--"

"It's all right!" 

Sphene composed herself and pulled the journal into her lap, quickly drawing up a large wheel at the edge of the far page. 

"I haven't been on it since I was quite young myself. But those are happy memories: It would be wonderful to include." 

As she finished drawing the cabins, Calyx leaned over, having regained the strength to make one last little drawing on the now-cluttered two-page spread. 

"Lastly," he announced, making quick little strokes, "A font for making wishes." 

"In a world so wonderful, that would make it perfect, wouldn't it?" Sphene asked, smiling as she set down her pet in the crevice of the journal and pushed herself up into a sitting position. 

It didn't take long for him to finish the simple design, and while it could have used a couple more spurts of wishing water, he'd decided it was good enough. 

"What would you wish for?"

Calyx sat back on his knees to admire their collaboration. 

Sphene smiled as a sense of melancholy washed over her. After several extended moments of silence, Calyx realized he must've asked something awkward. He looked over at her, scrambling to figure out the best way to apologize that wouldn't make him feel even more embarrassed than he already did. 

He really wasn't used to this 'comforting' thing. 

But, just as his lips parted, Sphene spoke up: "I'm not certain. I'd need to think on it. What of your wish, Calyx?" 

That, however, was an answer he needn't ponder: He already knew it well. Meeting her gaze, he replied, "I'd wish that we would never have to say goodbye," with an air of absolute decisiveness.

"Ah...," Sphene nervously reached up to fix her hair, tucking some of the strands behind one of her ears. It was difficult to discern in the candlelight, but her cheeks seemed more pink than usual...

...

...

"...Right. It's--quite late now, isn't it?"  

Honestly, she'd no idea the time. Everything had crept along far too slowly until Calyx came 'round. Now, Sphene realized, she wouldn't have even known if several suns had come and gone in the time they'd spent together.

"In fact," Calyx took a breath, sighing lightly as his lips curled upwards in a rare little smirk, "I believe the nurses will be embarking on their morning rounds soon. They shall be met with an empty cot."  

Something about that made Sphene giggle, and she quickly reached up to hide her grin.

Calyx wished she hadn't.

"We're like naughty children, aren't we? Staying awake long passed our bedtime?" 

Her smile only faded when she realized she'd no longer parents to scold her for such behavior, and her hand lowered to her lap. 

"I apologize for keeping you up, Your Highness. You need your rest," Calyx said--only out sheer formality: He didn't actually mean it, for he was not at all sorry for spending this evening with the only one he'd ever considered a friend. Still, it was true that he'd overstayed his welcome, and he must get going. Surely she was tired of him now, bland as he was, he figured. 

But he must have rose to his feet too suddenly, because he immediately lost his sight, and along with it, his balance.

"Calyx!" 

The next thing he knew he was down on his knees, and felt two hands on either of his biceps, trying to urge him back up with no sense of grace. Her fingernails were digging into his skin and it hurt, but he'd already lost any pride he'd mustered up for this and didn't want to lose anymore by telling her as much. 

Instead, he took hold of the nearby dresser and hauled himself back up--slower, this time. 

"I'm fine. I only moved too quickly."

Though Sphene had spent many days at Calyx's bedside in the sanatorium, she'd rarely seen him out and about. Seeing how fragile he was on his feet made her realize she really didn't know him as well as she thought she had. 

"But--"

"Don't worry about me."

He started making his way towards the door, and Sphene found herself following after him, step by step.

"With the way you're so careless about yourself, someone must and that someone shall be me!"

Once he reached it, he turned, bracing his shoulder on the door and reaching for the knob. Once their eyes met, he replied, "I'm just one many Alexandrian citizens. We must hide this acquaintance of ours now, lest your people get the impression you're playing favorites."

It wasn't something Sphene hadn't really considered, and her eyes widened as Calyx brought it to her attention...

...Right...

...she was a queen now. The queen, who definitely had new responsibilities Princess Sphene hadn't had to worry about. Such as what people would think about every relation she had.

But, no matter: She couldn't deny that she so did want to play favorites, for, over the years, she'd grown rather fond of Calyx. 

"We should not deceive the people of Alexandria," she told him, stubbornly. That was something they shared, it seemed.

His eyebrows rose, and she didn't know if it was because he was impressed, or just found her childish for it.

"Then, what do you suggest?" 

"Perhaps...," her head ducked and she tried to think. She must--quickly, on the spot! Calyx waited, his hand slipping off the doorknob; clearly invested in her response.

"...from this point on...I can house Preservation's work in the castle itself. Then, you needn't sneak out to meet me, and no one shall be suspicious of our communications." 

"That would save me a lot of trouble, Your Highness."

"Calyx...?" 

Sphene took a step forward, her brow upturned like she was about to burst into tears once more.

"Before you go..."

Calyx was waiting for words to leave her mouth, not to be pulled into a sudden embrace. He gasped, and for a moment, Sphene hesitated, afraid she'd hurt him. When he didn't fight the hug, she tightened it.

"...I don't want to lose anyone else..." 

Slowly--carefully--he returned the gesture. His arms wrapped around her form as it began to tremble. The motion felt strange and foreign, but he endured it for her sake.

"...I can't lose you, too. That is my wish." 

With that, she began to sob.

Calyx allowed it until he hadn't the strength to stand any longer, and the two sunk down to the floor.

But he didn't let go.

Neither did she, and soon, dawn broke and the sun rose on a day that promised to be quite different than the one prior.