Nova pov

On the Isle of the Lost, friendships were forged in the dark and twisted by the survival instinct that all villain kids were born with. For Mal and me, it was no different. We were inseparable once, united by a shared destiny of power and darkness. But something always simmered beneath the surface—something neither of us wanted to acknowledge.

We were young, only around eight or nine, back when Mal still thought she was untouchable. She’d strut around like she was already queen of the Isle, heir to Maleficent’s dark reign, and I followed her, desperate to prove I was just as fierce. After all, I was Queen Narissa’s daughter. Magic flowed through my veins. I was supposed to be the next great enchantress. But Mal never let me forget I was second to her.

“Come on, Nova, keep up,” Mal sneered one afternoon as we stalked through the dingy streets of the Isle, her purple hair whipping behind her. “You’re too slow.”

I gritted my teeth, my eyes narrowing as I quickened my pace. Mal always liked to make me feel small. She thrived on power and control, and I was foolish enough back then to let her. I wasn’t her equal. Not yet.

We’d been running our little gang, just the two of us, causing trouble for the other kids on the Isle. We terrorized the younger ones, stole from the adults, and claimed parts of the Isle as ours, as if we had any real control. But every time, it was Mal who got the credit. Mal who called the shots.

Then came the day that everything changed.

We were out near the broken-down remains of a playground, a small sandbox sitting in the corner of the yard. Mal and I had just finished intimidating some younger kids when she turned to me, her green eyes glinting with that smugness I had grown to hate.

“You know, Nova,” she started, leaning against a rusted pole, “you’re not really cut out for this.”

I froze, my stomach twisting in knots. “What do you mean?”

Mal shrugged, her tone casual but sharp. “I mean, you’re okay. But let’s face it—you’ll never be as powerful as me. You just don’t have it in you. Narissa’s no Maleficent. And you? You’re not me.”

Her words sliced through me, colder than the Isle’s wind. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to prove her wrong, but I just stood there, silent, as she sauntered over to the sandbox.

She kicked the sand with her boot, smirking. “Tell you what. You can have this. I don’t need it. Consider it a gift.”

I stared at the sandbox, my face burning with humiliation. Mal was leaving me with the scraps, the leftovers, as if I wasn’t worth anything more. As if she was doing me a favor.

“Or,” she continued, tilting her head with a smirk, “you could always have the lizard.”

That’s when I snapped. The lizard. She meant my mother—Narissa, who Mal had called a ‘lizard’ and a ‘knockoff’ in front of everyone. She mocked my legacy like it was some sort of joke, as if I was just playing at being a villain while she was the real deal.

I stormed off that day, seething with anger and shame. That was the moment I decided I wouldn’t live in Mal’s shadow anymore. I was done playing second fiddle.

It didn’t take long for me to find others who felt the same way I did. The Isle was full of kids who had been pushed aside, dismissed by the so-called ‘leaders’ like Mal. I knew they would follow me if I gave them a reason, and I was more than ready to give them one.

Vitani was the first to join me. She was tough, fierce, and silent like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike. The daughter of Scar and Zira, Vitani had grown up learning how to bide her time, watching for weakness. She didn’t talk much, but when she did, her words were sharp as claws.

“I’m not following some spoiled girl who thinks she’s the queen,” Vitani said when I approached her. “Mal’s nothing.”

“And you?” I asked.

Vitani’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous smile. “I’m a lion. I take what I want.”

Next came Megan, the daughter of Morgana. She had her mother’s cunning, always scheming, always one step ahead. She wasn’t as loud as the others, but she had a dark sense of humor that fit in perfectly with the crew.

“I’ll follow you, Nova,” Megan had said with a smirk. “But if you turn into Mal 2.0, I’m out.”

“I’m not Mal,” I promised her. “I’m something worse.”

Lastly, there was Celeste. Carlos’ twin sister and daughter of Cruella, she had her mother’s flair for fashion and a mean streak that ran deep. Carlos was a softy, but Celeste? She was pure Isle.

“Mal said I wasn’t bad enough for her gang,” Celeste scoffed. “Well, screw her.”

That sealed it. With Vitani, Megan, and Celeste by my side, we formed our own crew—stronger, smarter, and more ruthless than any other gang on the Isle. We didn’t need Mal. We didn’t need anyone’s approval. We were our own force, and together, we were unstoppable.

From then on, Mal’s name meant nothing to me. She could keep Auradon. She could keep her fake crown and her fake kingdom. Because while she was out playing princess, I was building something real. Something that couldn’t be taken away.

I wasn’t just Nova, the girl in Mal’s shadow anymore.

I was Princess Nova. And this was my Isle and soon auradon would be mine too.