2412, Iclis 16, Velpa

Nyxis sighed as he plucked noprary fruits from the Palace garden. Why would the Palace even need a private garden when the whole forest was theirs? Royal people were absurd. Did Nyxis really spend all his life being one?

He shook his head as he threw five, small fruits into the pile he's already making inside a woven basket by his feet. Just a few more and he'd have enough for another potion he'd have to force down June's throat.

A shriveled fruit, growing on a branch with a bunch that were still firm, caught Nyxis's eye. He clicked his tongue as he plucked the wilted fruit and held it up to the light. Such an imperfection shouldn't exist.

What if that fruit was a person? An entire territory? Would Nyxis step in, pluck it out, and crush them underfoot if he could? Nyxis scoffed. This was why he's never going to be a good ruler. He'd just end up like his mother—cold, inhuman, and perfect.

Nyxis shifted through dark green leaves and avoided the prickly thorns jutting from the thick, main branches. Being human was already an imperfection with their synnavaimis locked. It was like something important was missing from their souls that they had to make up for it by using escuira spells. That difference was what caused prejudice between them and the fairies.

He couldn't live with that but eventually, he has to. If only he could build for himself a perfect world where everything was fair.

All his life, he tried making up for that imperfection. That's why he buried himself in the potion-making industry. That way, he could help both fairies and humans alike. He could save everyone he could. He could help anyone without them hating him for what he was.

People, especially from the Commons, loved him for that. As long as he was helping people, whether directly or indirectly, he's still perfect.

He's perfect.

Then, it all eroded when he witnessed the battle in the Cardina Palace. His family had been hurting a lot of people but it still hurt when they died. He realized how little and insignificant he was in the face of war. It was another imperfection and Nyxis couldn't do anything about it.

His grandfather, the one that his mother had sent to the Disfavoreds just for being old and blind, told Nyxis that he needed to restore the throne to Cardina and that could maybe fix the growing unrest in the territory. It wasn't the chair his mother sat on. Before everything even started, Nyxis had one job which was to retrieve the thing his father stole from the rightful royals.

Instead of finding hope, it only introduced Nyxis to another glaring imperfection. He wasn't born for power and he would never be. So, when a chance was presented to him after the battle in Cardina, he took the way out. He gave the power back to Tobin Canraren, the rightful dynasty.

Did Nyxis do it because he wanted to redeem himself or because he wanted to run? Who knew?

Then he met Xanthy, a girl so imperfect she's glowing with her flaws. Instead of being reviled by her imperfections, he got mesmerized by it. How could a person, bogged down by life's circumstances, still emerge with a will to keep going? How, despite the countless unfairness Xanthy has lived through, was she still fighting?

Love was an imperfection, too.

Nyxis frowned as he turned a bright, red fruit in his hands, straining his eyes to see if there were dark spots on its smooth surface. He was getting used to it by now. The strife, the fights, the betrayals, even the whirlwind of emotions. These were imperfections that he couldn't solve, erase, or control.

He tossed the fruit into the basket and clenched his jaw. If the world's going to shove into his face more and more things that would not run the way he wanted to, he needed to fight. He needed to work to make this world perfect.

So no other people could get hurt. So he could still save the souls he could.

That's why he was out here, working his rear off trying to heal a hopeless case. He already lost count of the amount of days he had spent trying to reverse the irreversible. As if the gods were mocking Nyxis, he had to work with the root of their problems.

June, the half-blood—the boy with an unknown past, the liar, the imperfection Nyxis couldn't just cast aside out of sheer duty to Xanthy and because of a promise he owed her.

Whether he liked it or not, June was a son of the deceased High Queen and the heir to the Falkirtan throne. April the Vulkraine Girl might have scored the Lantegian throne, but from the looks of it, the High Queen didn't let the Sylkrana bloodline lose its hold on the Air Sprites' territory.

A branch snapped under Nyxis's grip. Falkirta—the Floating Paradise, unreachable by land dwellers, a peaceful heaven. It's the perfect world.

June was more important than all the Royal families combined. He could be a tool for war between Lanteglos and the Sprites. He could be a bargaining tool to be delivered into Synketros or Cardovia's doorstep. He's an heir, for the gods' sakes.

He crushed a noprary between his forefinger and thumb. It dripped sticky, red juice all over his palm, staining the bandage he wrapped this morning. He shrugged. The wound had already bled through anyway. If only imperfections could be crushed that easily—without emotions, without morality, without opposition, and most importantly, without a cost.

Nyxis sighed. If only.

"Are you going to sigh all day?" a voice struck through Nyxis's thoughts. He turned to find the Grand Royal strolling past the arches gilding the private garden with arms clasped behind him.

Nyxis didn't reply as he flicked the crushed fruit at the soil. That could serve as fertilizer, at least. He developed an interest in the nearest bunch next to the current one he'd been inspecting. He kept the Grand Royal in his periphery, though.

"It appears that you have requested protection from my father," the Grand Royal said. "Know that his price demands greatly."

Nyxis let go of the branch he was inspecting and turned to the Grand Royal. "He already made me work on the infirmary because apparently, there is a battle approaching."

The Grand Royal jerked his chin at the pile of noprary by Nyxis's feet "There is no infirmary," he shook his head. "We are also expecting something from a battle to a natural tragedy."

Nyxis raised an eyebrow. "So you are not even sure it is an invasion?" He scoffed. "Wow, I thought you guys were smart."

The Grand Royal's Ylanenla was good and Nyxis would give him that credit.

"It is all based on studying the Life Rewarder's health," the Grand Royal tucked his hair behind his pointed ear. "It has... been wilting recently."

Nyxis went back to finding more mature bunches. "Are you allowed to reveal state secrets?" he plucked another bunch. "Because I am sure that that information is classified."

The Grand Royal chuckled. "I am not saying them to you just because I want to," he drew away from the bush. "Come with me."