The fire had long since died down. Soft breaths and muffled snores came from the other tents scattered around the makeshift camp. The sky was a blanket of stars, cold and infinite, watching in silence. But Xzavier sat alone on a log near the edge of camp, his shoulders stiff, his expression carved in stone.
The Shadow Blade rested across his lap, sheathed in a cracked black scabbard wrapped in dark cloth. Though it was weaker than the legendary Flame Blade, it radiated something far more unsettling—a dormant malice, quietly feeding off his rage and pain.
A thin veil of shadow coiled around his hands as he gripped the hilt. His breath slowed, eyes glowing faintly, even though the Sacred Eyes were now gone. The blade called to him—not with words, but emotion. Grief. Fury. Loss.
Then, the silence was broken.
"Couldn't sleep?" Zadie asked gently, stepping out from the darkness behind him.
Xzavier didn't flinch. "Didn't try."
She walked over, taking a seat beside him on the log. The princess—though dressed in simple clothes now—still held her regal grace. Her white hair reflected the moonlight, her eyes tired but kind.
"You've been staring at that thing for hours," she said, nodding toward the blade.
"It's not like I have anything else left to look at," he replied bitterly.
Zadie watched him quietly for a moment. "You lost a lot today."
He snorted. "You don't even know the half of it."
"I know you lost your powers… and your pride."
That made Xzavier glance at her.
She smiled faintly. "You think I didn't notice how you walked back with blood in your mouth, no eyes glowing, and no fire left in you? You looked like a ghost."
He turned away.
They sat in silence for a while. The wind rustled through the tall grass and broken city in the distance. Finally, Zadie spoke again.
"You were incredible, you know. I thought I was going to die in that room."
Xzavier said nothing.
"So… what happens now?" she asked. "What do you want to do… after all of this?"
He hesitated. Then, without looking at her, he said:
"I want to become the next Titan of Eidolon. I want to slay Gimori. I want to destroy the entire Dawn Syndicate. Burn it all down to ash."
Zadie blinked.
Then giggled. "Okay, edgy brooding hero. Calm down."
Xzavier looked at her, his face dead serious.
"I'm not joking."
The smile faded from her lips as she realized he meant every word.
"I watched Levine take everything from me," he said, voice low. "He didn't kill me. He shamed me. Took my blade… threw me a pity weapon. I hate him more than I've ever hated anything. And Gimori—he's the source of this world's rot. I don't care what it takes. I'll climb the Demon Tower with my hands and teeth if I have to. I'm going to end him."
There was a long pause.
Zadie finally nodded. "Okay. Then I'll be cheering you on from the throne."
He blinked. "The throne?"
She smiled. "I want to become Queen of Akira. After we win, I'll go home, rebuild our kingdom. I want to get married, have children, maybe two or three. Raise them in peace."
Xzavier tilted his head, puzzled. "You want… kids?"
Zadie chuckled. "Of course I do. I love kids."
"But… why?"
"Because they're hope. They're the next page after our story ends."
Xzavier stared into the fireless pit before him. "I don't get it. What's so great about raising tiny, loud, messy humans who depend on you for everything?"
Zadie laughed again, softer this time. "You've never held a baby, have you?"
"No."
"You've never had a toddler run up to you and hug your leg just because they like you?"
"Nope."
"Then you wouldn't understand." She leaned back, gazing at the stars. "I want to leave something behind when I'm gone. Not just statues and stories. I want to raise life that outlives me. Love that echoes into the future. That's why I want to be a mother."
Xzavier glanced at her. "You think you'll get that kind of peace in this world?"
"I have to believe it," she replied. "Otherwise, what's the point?"
He looked back down at the Shadow Blade. The darkness around it was pulsing faintly now, reacting to the emotions swirling within him.
"I've never thought about peace," he said. "Only war. Only revenge."
Zadie nodded slowly. "That's because you've never had the chance to live without fighting."
Another silence.
She turned to him. "What about your family?"
"They're dead."
"Oh… I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I barely knew them. I grew up in an orphan district. Warden scouts found me, brought me in. I've been training for war since I could walk. I don't even know what my mother looked like."
Zadie placed her hand gently over his.
"You can still have a future. Powers or no powers. You're more than what you lost today."
Xzavier didn't answer.
Instead, he closed his hand around the Shadow Blade. The aura around it settled, almost soothed.
"I don't think I'm meant for peace," he said. "But maybe I can carve it out for others. Maybe… for people like you."
Zadie smiled softly. "That's all I could ask for."
They sat in silence again, watching the night sky, two souls tethered by war and fate. Xzavier still burned inside, but now, there was a faint glimmer of something else—something the Shadow Blade had never tasted before.
Purpose.
Hope.
And perhaps… the beginning of a bond that could change them both.