He was a beautiful child. This is what his mother always said when he longed for her praise. Such a beautiful child, she would say and would caress his hair, such a horrible fate.

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The stories go as such; a beautiful princess locked in a tower, in a prison, in a tomb and a handsome prince coming to rescue her. There is always an obstacle between them; trials, gods and monsters. However, no matter what happens, the prince will rise up to the challenge and release his beloved from the cruel fate bestowed upon them.

Similarly, a selfish part of Aguero saw a star falling to the ground desperately going after a moth and decided to become the prince of the story. Beautiful boy, his mother would whisper in his sleep, carefully letting the words slip inside his mind where they’d make themselves at home. Undoubtedly, this was where his obsession had come from. His mother, always the sculptor, always the narrator, always present where she shouldn’t be; the woman who bore protagonists. Aguero had been away from her for far too long and yet the threads of fate refused to let him free.

Such was the fate of the Agnis children. Sleeping Beauty trapped in her eternal slumber, never to be woken up, never to feel the light of the day in her eyes. Rapunzel’s Prince blinded by thorns, unable to see the sun again, unable to convince his beloved of her Mother’s ill intent.

Still, Aguero never learned how to let go of what wasn’t his and therefore would not let go of Bam even if he had to drag Rachel to the top as well.

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His sister is a princess in everything but name. She has the looks, the grace, the sharp mind. There is no actual crown in her head but there are whispers of the sunlight making her a halo wherever she goes. Despite all that, there is an important difference between her and the other contestants, something that makes her both the true princess and the vanquished among them; she is but a damsel in distress. Aguero, Kiseia, his mother, and everyone foolishly tried to place a doll on a throne not realising the path was filled with swords.

Eventually, Aguero saw the truth. Eventually, he concluded that a true prince shouldn’t send the princess to her grave. They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions and therefore all his sacrifices are nothing more than a driving force making his sister jump in her tomb, herself.

“What a villain you are,” Kiseia accuses as if her hands aren’t stained by the blood of other would-be Princesses. He wonders about perspectives in those novels she used to read when his aunt was alive, he wonders if she ever sympathized with the villains.

“Damn your rotten judgement,” his mother whispers and kisses the crown of his head, “my foolish prince. My detested light.”

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If a prince’s fate is to save the princess, there has been a mistake regarding his own role. Foolish, incorrigible Aguero does everything he’s supposed to do and yet Bam dies. The light vanishes, the storm rages and Aguero is left alone with his failure once more. There is no longer room for doubt; he was never supposed to be a prince in any story.

“It’s a cruel task,” he tells the team with real confidence. He had always been arrogant, talkative when he shouldn’t, bold and fraudulent in a pretty packaging. Still, this is a rare moment when he speaks from the heart. “so it should be given to the cruellest of us.”

The story of Bam ends in a modern tragedy but the story of Rachel is on its way and it’s lacking an important detail. Aguero, ever so gracious, bids his friends goodbye and steps up on the stage. The fire in his heart burns.

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Aguero is a child when he gets his first jewel, a present for his fourth birthday. It’s not very big but Aguero’s palms are small enough to slightly cower under the weight of it. It’s the prettiest and shiniest thing he has ever seen and his mother promises him that as long as he makes her proud, she will give him all of the world’s stones. She’s not being literal, his sister explains, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing away most of his stuff to make room for his future possessions.

Kiseia calls him a hoarder. His sister tells him that the jewels are useless if they’re not seen. Aguero ignores them both, keeps the box near his heart and childishly wishes for them to stay unchanging.

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Khun is an adult when he reunites with Bam. The anger inside him is burning him alive as does the uncontrollable need to burn FUG to the ground. In their years apart, Khun had grown, studied, had evolved and yet, despite all his knowledge and wisdom, he could not describe what he felt when he found out the truth. Somehow, hate could never begin to describe the feeling of something precious of yours being stolen away right under your nose.

He had been foolish once again. He had kept Bam at a distance, he had let him get taken away and then instead of searching for him in both sky and ground he simply mourned and accepted the loss proving once more that he wasn’t the prince of the story.

“Fairytales are overrated,” Hwaryun tells him one day, “FUG will never let a knight in shining armour claim their God.” there is a dangerous glint in her eye, fitting the title of a Guide, “Won’t you change the story?”

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There is a universal truth when it comes to heroes and villains. A distinctive difference between carrying the burden of saving the world until it crashes you and pilling wreckage to keep a single thing afloat during the shipwreck.

In the story of Bam, there is no need for a prince or princess because Bam fits and surpasses both roles. He overcomes every obstacle, he saves himself, and he is everything Khun could never be. Still, the story is lacking an important detail. Khun, ever so generous, welcomes Bam back with open arms and steps up on the stage. The fire in his eyes burns.

“The fact that you feel sorry for them and it hurts you so much to use their powers distinguishes you from me and White,” he whispers as he cradles Bam’s head, sheltering him from the death around them, “don’t ever doubt those feelings of yours.”

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And maybe the dragon is not a beast but a mere fool who wishes to hide his love away where it will be safe and sound or die by the hands holding his heart.