"So, you are telling me, that with this..." the boy whispered the next words, with a gulp, "...that with this dark magic, one can do anything?"

"Anything under the sun, yes." The other boy beamed, confidently.

"Are you going to master it?"

"We are going to master it, brother."

"Um... perhaps..."

"We would be a great team, just you see." The silver-eyed boy smiled affectionately, ruffling the other's golden hair.

One thing led to another, then to arm-wrestling, their limbs entangled on the rug, a vase knocked down off a table—and they laughed identically.

But the room around them changed. Iron bars. Stony walls. Damp cold air. Deadly silence. Blood pooling on the floor.

Just like that he was all alone...

***

Nova was dreaming again.

This time at least, he didn't wake up with a jolt. Progress?

With eyes wide open and breathing frantic, he stared at the golden latticed-ceiling. The soft ivory quilt around his bare chest. Real. A hand reached to the stack of books on his nightstand. Real.

A cold breeze blew through the window, ruffling the baroque curtains. Silvery moonlight leaked in, like it used to through the high windows in one of the many dungeons, he had been tossed in and out for what had seemed to be an eternity. The night sky cradling the moon entranced him and he got off the bed.

Serene tangy air brushed across his face. Real. The window sill, the curtains. Real. The island's seashore, roars of the blue waves, palm trees swaying in a soft rhythm. Real.

Pain seared through his veins all of a sudden and he cursed aloud. These powers were supposed to be a gift, weren't they? But they crawled through him as if they knew they were trapped inside the wrong body, still adjusting even after two whole months. Time and again, reminding the 'Conqueror' of the horror said and done. He banged a fist on the wall beside the window and stood immobile for many a moment.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. Just breathe, damn it.

Dragging a hand down his face, he sat on the sill and stared at the autumn moon, at the stars decked around the navy-blue sky. It seemed like a lifetime ago, the freedom he owned to even stargaze.

Nova had forgotten how a spring breeze played in one's hair, how home looked, where he was born and spent the whole of his three and twenty years, apart from the seven spent in the Autumn Realm's training school. But he would never go back there. Everything was fresh in his head – his chamber, his workroom, his study, mother's music room, father's orchards, brother's—

They were all gone. And it was just him now. With a crown as heavy as the chains he was now free of.

Another cold breeze blew and his skin didn't mind. Every Realm, every season was suitable for his body now, he supposed. Nothing affected him. Nothing was going to affect him. Maybe he wasn't alive—

Okay, that's damn depressing for one night, Nova.

Tomorrow, then.

Same place, same time. Different nightmare.

He went back to sleep.

***

Autumn Realm's capital had the best training institution – The School of Terraskee where almost all the royals, aspiring warriors, soldiers-in-making from all the world—except, of course, the Summer Realm—got trained. Some of Nova's best years were spent in the training years—the best seven years or five, really. And when post-battle, Una had asked him to accompany her to her island, while Doran healed in the Alchemical care, he knew not how to thank her. 

As one of the crowned princes of Spring Realm, he had a responsibility—looking after the affairs of the previous King and Queen, who had abandoned the throne in the wake of their untimely demise. A sharp pang of nothingness stabbed him and he ran a hand over his chest. At this point, he knew not how many deaths he was mourning for.

Nova had slightly neglected combat training, knowing, he was the Second Son, not the successor and thus the Conquest wasn't his destination. He had mastered his Elementation early, won his dragon's – Zephyr's heart during a scouting drill—best day of his life, that, adapted to the duties of a prince as soon as he could, carried on with his mother's legacy. He would look at the royal affairs and let his older twin prepare for the Conquest. Wasn't that the plan?

He knew enough to run a Realm, back two years ago, before his brotherly ordeal. And now in front of him were emissaries and ministers of all the Four Realms. His Court, they said. Any House's, any Realm's court was his, they said. The whole world was now bloody his, they said. Excellent.

He hoped they never found out, that their High King always clasped his hands tight because they trembled a little and his voice was inaudible even to himself.

For the first few days, people visited from across the Realms. Wanting to kiss his fingers, wanting to bestow gifts. A craftsman presented him with a bejeweled crown and Nova wondered how much it must have costed him. An inn-owner lady with a child attached to her hip, presented him with homemade waffles and he tasted paradise in them. A group of men, hunters precisely, brought a net full of freshly caught fishes, hanging to a stick and it stank so bad that it had to be sent to the kitchens right away—delicious, by the way. An Eclipse guard gifted him a sword with his name carved and Nova replaced it with his old one immediately, much to the soldier's delight—enchanted sword, yes.

A lavish carefree Capricorn merchant offered the Autumn Court six new ships for a trade she wanted to facilitate between the enemy Realms and now that opportunist merchant, safe to say, was his friend.

But what stood above all was when a stout Spring woman offered the High King her daughter's hand in marriage.

Simply chuckling in embarrassment, he had promised her that he'd grant the girl a dance in the upcoming coronation ceremony, nothing more. Yet she strutted away as if Nova was already her son-in-law. He didn't hear the end of it from his friends, who narrated it to others with an extra mocking spice.

But with blandishments, came the belittlements.

We sent a soldier and received a corpse.

Are you sure you were his slave and not his ally?

Your face haunts my child.

Queen Una should've won.

Such blasphemy, a High King who has a Fire-Earth Luesha as a part of his inner court.

The Throne must have gone insane during the branding.

Having Una, Doran and Arlette by his side, was the only thing that kept him going day after day in the perpetual autumn. They were the ones who were doing all the work as his envoys and Nova felt like a puppet. The golden throne seemed to be made of thorns, ready to poke him if he even so much as breathed wrong.

There would be questions asked and answers given, and afterwhile he would zone out. Not hearing a thing about the compensation to be paid to the soldiers' family who had lost their bread-owners, about the damage recuperating in the Winter Realm, about the penalty to be paid by the Spring Realm – his Realm, about the protestors rallying out in the open, secret societies formed – some hailing the star-breaker Eclipse or cursing her sick. Some revering the new Conqueror and some...

He'd leave court, like a coward, like a failure and go back to his majestic, regal chamber—his hideout.

The Throne must have gone insane during the branding.

***

He woke up again. Gasping.

Just a dream. Not real.

Flinging the duvet off his bare body, he felt exasperated with his own mind. A white tunic lay discarded on an armchair and he hastily put it over. He was done. Sick of these memories. Sick of his own face haunting him raw. Nova hadn't asked to be born as a set of two, while the other one sucked the life out of him, even when he was long gone. A lifetime ago, Nova used to sleep like a log, a sleep which came as a result of having a productive day either in court, study, alchemical workroom, training grounds, or after touring villages of Spring Realm... and now the mere thought of 'sleeping' roused a chill on his spine.

Nova was done with this shit. So. Done.

People needed him and here he was, being the flag-bearer of negligence, of poor Kingship. Selfish was what he'd call himself, for being so wrapped around in his head. He had to do something. 

His cabinets were full of clothes which shone even in the darkness of the night... jeweled cloaks, glossy doublets, ornate jackets... but he found the one thing he was looking for... 

A black cloak.

Nova walked out.

***

The palace was silent. But so was he. It was moments like these when he thanked the powers that he now possessed, or which possessed him. One of them bestowed him cat-like footsteps. Earthen stealth. The guards outside his chambers were drooping, resting against the walls and when one of them perked up, with a shake of his head, Nova asked him to leave him alone.

Orbs of Dusk, the glowing orange flowers which shone bright like miniature pieces of sunshine, bedecked the walls and ceilings of the Grand Palace of the Autumn Realm even at the hour of midnight. It was labyrinthic, the passages and nooks and corners, but Nova knew his way around, ever since he was young.

Una and him, along with other training mates, had had good times in her home, in her alchemical workroom, experimenting with stuff beyond understanding... the potions and drugs... and then walking out as innocently as they could. A smile crept up on him as he remembered the pretentious scolding they'd get later on, by the Alchemical Healers and Lady Tessa.

The training grounds of the young royals of the school was closer to the Virgo palace and they'd sneak in to her home whenever they could. He'd ask his twin to tag along, but he only ever wanted was to be left alone with his books and research. Most of his adventures in the Terraskee's school were with Neo alone—for all he ever wanted was Nova's company. But at times, Nova's outgoing social self, craved for the company of others...

And the hot-headed girl with the softest heart and the hugest dragon had always been one of his closest childhood friends.

If he had never made friends, he wouldn't have been alive today.

Nova climbed down two storeys hurriedly and found the soldier's chambers. For the third time in two months. 

But tonight, he'd ask her.

Ask her to do it, once and for all. She had herself approached him once and he had turned her down, even when he knew she was the only one who could help him. 

His leather-booted feet hesitated on the threshold of the divider which separated the dorms of male and female soldiers. Nova scratched his head, wondering what had possessed him to come here yet again. The High King seen lurking around the female dorms at midnight, would be just what his reputation further needed to blast off into smithereens like a salve potion with five fireseeds instead of three.

Damn this.

Nova walked in and knocked thrice on the wooden door of the chamber which he knew was the soldier's. He knew what she was capable of. Had seen it in the Battle, had heard it from the chatters that she was as powerful as his twin had been, in the ethereal branch of sorcery.

When the door didn't open for a long time, he knew he was a classified fool. It was past mid-night, of course normal people slept at this time. Pulling the hood of the cloak tighter around his face, he retreated back. However, the unmistakable sound of a heavy crossbar scraping on the other side, made him freeze and turn.

A cautious silver head peeked out, eyes darting side to side, which then landed on him and she straightened up.

"Who the Hell might you be at this Throne-awful hour?" The young Mind Sorceress of the Eclipses army spoke sternly, hands on her hips, squinting her eyes to get a better look at his face.

Nova pushed the grim hood of his cloak down and managed a frail embarrassed smile. What was I thinking?

Instantly, the soldier curtsied with recognition, "Your M-Majesty. A-Are you alright? Pardon my language..."

However, all of a sudden, she looked at Nova as if she could see right through him. The features of her bronze angular face changed from cautious to shocked to... concerned, while he cowered under her inquisitive gaze. Her silver tresses flung over one shoulder, she took a small step ahead in her translucent white nightgown and he coaxed himself to keep his eyes on either the floor or on her face.

"Miss Althea," Nova lowered his voice, trying to keep the shake out of it, "Please erase my memories."

*** 

Author's notes: 
Hiiiii! *waves excitedly*

Y'all, it's so good to see you again in this new book. To everyone, who reads and votes and comments... thank you from the bottom of my heart... that's all a Wattpad writer needs as motivation. 

I never truly ask people to vote, but since we are in the initial phase and I can see chapters getting reads as many as 100, I'd like you silent readers to vote as well (I promise I don't bite!)

Press on that STARLIGHT and I might release chapters early, or expect cliffhangers more and more so. 
Much love!❤