When Nyx was six, he became a big brother.

Even though he was small at the time, he remembers the night his little sister was born perfectly.

He remembered his mother's water breaking and the organized chaos that followed. The midwives came over and Mom huffed at them even as she did laps around the kitchen, face pinched in pain. Libertus came over with his mother and sat with him as they watched the adults get blankets and water and pillows, so many pillows.

And then his mother was shut in her bedroom and the storm started.

It was sudden, the stars vanishing behind billowing clouds in the time it took him to blink. The sound of his mother's curses and the midwives' instructions were drowned out by the sound of heavy rain and booming thunder. When he looked out the window though, none of the rain was hitting the house. Purple lightning flashed across the sky and something about it tugged at his mind – an old story of magic and kings that his mother told him before bed.

Lightning crackled and thunder echoed and as suddenly as the storm came, it ended.

A baby started crying in the next room, loud in the abrupt silence.

Nyx bounced up, Libertus hot on his heels, and found his way to Mom's bedside. She smiled at him, tired and sweaty and her hair was a mess, but her eyes were bright.

"Come meet your sister, Nyx," she said, shifting her arms so that he could see a face in the bundle of blankets, "Selena, this is your big brother."

Nyx climbed onto the bed and peered at his new sibling. She looked squishy and she was so tiny. He reached out and poked her cheek watching the way her face scrunched up. Mom huffed a laugh at him.

"Gentle, Nyx," she murmured.

And then Selena opened her eyes.

They were bright, glowing magenta and Mom gasped, drawing the attention of the other adults in the room. They started whispering to each other and Nyx heard them talking about kings and stormborn but he only had eyes for his sister.

His sister, who was looking right at him even as the glow faded from her eyes, leaving them baby blue. His sister, who cooed at him and wiggled in their mother's arms, as though trying to move closer to him. He took her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers and breathed with her. Her skin was the softest thing he'd ever touched, even softer than his favorite blanket or Lib's cat. He thought of the storm outside and the way lightning had flashed and the wind howled but none of it touched their house.

"I'll protect you, Selena," he swore, "I promise."

He felt Mom's hand in his hair when he started to hum a lullaby and curled up in her arms so he could keep watch over his sister as she slept.

When Nyx was twelve, he swore himself to his sister's service.

"Come on, Little King," Nyx taunted with a teasing smile from his perch in the tree.

His sister pouted up at him, all of six and stamping her foot in frustration. "No fair, Nyx!" she whined.

He let her stew for a moment before hooking his legs around the branch and letting himself fall backwards. Selena shrieked as he fell down to dangle in front of her, upside down. With a laugh, her held out his hands to her.

"Come on, Sel, up you get," he said.

She grinned at him and used his hands as a boost and climbed up onto his branch, seating herself next to him as he pulled himself back up.

"So, who did what this time?" he asked, watching her kick her feet back and forth.

"Marius," Selena told him, her nose wrinkled, "He keeps askin' 'bout my dreams."

Nyx grimaced. Most of the people in town knew that while Selena was the King, she hadn't been crowned yet. Her Trials wouldn't happen until she turned sixteen, the most she could do now was learn their history and traditions. But the Kings of Old were known for dreamwalking and that made some people…eager to talk to Selena about anything and everything.

"Bet Mom kicked his butt," he offered.

Selena giggled. "She gave him the Look," she said happily before attempting to rearrange her face into a copy of their mother's intimidating glare.

Nyx snorted and kicked her boot. "Maybe one day, he'll realize that Mom will actually gut him if he pushes to hard."

Nyx wanted to be there when it happened.

Selena hummed and leaned against him. "Is it bad?" she asked softly after a moment, "That I haven't dreamed?"

He froze, eyes snapping down to her. "Selena, you're only six."

"But – "

"No," Nyx cut in, "You now how this works; I know you do. Dreamwalking doesn't happen until after the Trials and those don't happen until you're sixteen. Ten more years to go, Little King."

"…what if I mess up?" Selena asked softly, shifting to look at him through the fall of her hair.

"You won't," he said confidently. And she wouldn't because his little sister was strong, far stronger than she realized. And if she ever needed help, she had Mom and the Counsel on her side. She had Libertus and his mom. She had him.

"But what if?" Selena insisted with stubborn frown.

"Then you'll have me," he said, gaze catching hers and holding.

Selena stared right back, straightening from her slouch as she did so. She looked at him intently and something flickered in her eyes – a small, knowing gleam that made her seem older, wiser, than a six year old had any right to be. She nodded slowly after a long moment, never breaking eye contact.

"Nyx Ulric, eldest child of Althea Ulric," she said, voice low and solemn in a way he had only heard her speak in the few formal ceremonies she'd attended, "Will you do me the honor of becoming my Paladin?"

Nxy didn't hesitate.

"The honor would be mine, my King."

When Nyx was eighteen, Galahd fell.

Things had been uneasy for years – ever since King Mors pulled back the Wall. Niflheim had been quick to swoop in and start occupying land in a show of power, but Galahd hadn't gone quietly. A resistance was quick to spring up, an open secret among the people, and a silent war had begun. But things had never turned into an outright battle. It hadn't been peaceful exactly, there was no real fighting or bloodshed, but there was a tension in the air – thick and heavy and oppressive.

Like the calm before a storm.

They attacked in the middle of the night. There was no warning, no hint that it was coming. Airships firebombed the cities, MTs flooded the smaller towns, gunning down anyone they came across. For those few horrific hours, Nyx's world was nothing but fire and ash and gunshots and blood.

His mother had pulled him and Selena out of bed, a few small bags already hastily packed and all but threw them out the door.

"Go!," she shouted as she pushed them towards the edge of town, towards the dense tree line, "Stay together! Make for the trees and don't stop! Don't – "

Nyx turned just in time to see red bloom across her chest as she fell to the ground, the sound of gunshots echoing in his ears.

"Mom!" Selena shrieked, making a dive for their mother.

Nyx didn't let her. He hooked an arm around her waist and hefted her up and ran.

"Nyx, what are you doing?! Put me down, we have to go back! Mom! Mom!"

"She's dead, Selena! There's nothing we can do!" he shouted, shoving his grief, his anger, his horror down into a dark corner of his mind. He didn't have time for it, couldn't focus on it. Selena was here. She was in danger. He needed to keep her safe.

People were screaming around them, some trying to flee while others took up arms and attempted to fight. Selena was weeping beside him, her grip on his arm like iron, but still reaching desperately towards her people with the other even as Nyx pulled her along. It was something out of a nightmare. Buildings were on fire, windows shattered, wood groaning and splintering. There were bodies strewn across the street – people he'd known his entire life dead at his feet in the blink of an eye. But he kept going, didn't stop. Couldn't afford to stop. He held onto Selena, his grip so tight he could feel her bones grind together.

Galahd had fallen.

When Nyx was eighteen, he failed his duty.

He was eighteen, barely an adult, and his world was crashing down around his ears. His mother was dead and his home was burning and his people were dying. He was dragging his sister, his King, through the ruins of their home, people screaming around them, MTs swarming. It was chaotic and horrific and terrifying.

And then Nyx saw Libertus. His best friend, his brother in all but blood. He called out to him and Libertus somehow heard him over the noise, red-rimmed eyes catching on him and filling with relief. He heard Selena choke out Libertus's name and Nyx pulled them over to him as his brother pushed his way towards them.

And then Nyx made his mistake. His mistake born of relief that someone was alive, that his brother was safe, that he'd still had someone to hold onto. He embraced his brother, a quick, sharp movement, short and to the point because there wasn't time for anything else. But to do that, he did the one thing he should have never done.

He let go of his sister.

He let go of his King.

In his relief, he let himself become distracted. So he had no time to react when he felt two hands on his back, pushing him into Libertus with a strength he hadn't been aware they possessed. The two of them tumbled to the ground, Selena's shouted warning barely reaching his ears before the explosion hit. It rocked into him, pushing him and Libertus back as they were showered with debris.

The silence that followed was the loudest he'd ever experienced.

Nyx stared at the spot his sister was standing only a moment before. In her place was a pile of smoldering rubble – broken timbers and jagged stone and metal shards. He didn't understand. She was right there. She was right there.

Where did she go?

It didn't register at first, didn't connect. He couldn't make sense of it even though it was right in front of him. Everything seemed to go still and gray and silent.

Selena was gone.

His King was gone.

She was gone.

"-yx! Nyx! We have to go! Nyx!"

Libertus was grabbing at him, pulling him up off the ground and he can feel the pain from the explosion throwing him back, from the debris raining down on him, but it's a distant thing, like it's someone else's pain and he's just sympathetic to their injury. He can't make himself look away even as sound filters back in – the screams and the gunshots and Libertus.

"Selena – "

"Nyx, we have to go," Libertus choked out and Nyx still couldn't look away (she was right there – ), couldn't see the expression on his face, but he could hear the tremor in his voice. He heard what Libertus was saying. He said the same thing to Selena just a short time ago about their mother (oh gods, their mother–). He understood it. He did. But.

But.

This was Selena.

She was his King, his little sister.

She was everything.

And she was gone.

Even as Libertus dragged him away, through the trees, out of the line of fire, Nyx still couldn't make sense of it.

Later, Lidertus handed him a ration bar as the both stared out at the blaze still ravaging the horizon line, bright and fierce and impossible to miss against the black of the night sky, and he made himself eat it.

It tasted like ash.

He had failed.

When Nyx was twenty, he swore himself to another King.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done.

(It was easier than it should have been.)

Some of his people followed him because it meant having the opportunity to fight. Others scorned him for it, saw it as a betrayal. Nyx never told anyone that he felt it was a betrayal because for all he believed that Regis was a good man and a good king, he was not Nyx's King. But Nyx remembered the man with lightning at his fingertips and crystalline swords stopping to help a child in need. He remembered the promises he made to his sister, the oaths he swore to his King. He was still her Paladin and he still had a responsibility to their people.

He needed to make sure they were safe and if they hated him for it fine, as long as they were safe.

Nyx threw himself into the war, fought Niflheim with everything was. Libertus was probably the only thing that kept him from dying that first month out in the field. It would have been so easy – but Libertus was there with a hand on his shoulder and a pinched look on his face that screamed don't leave and Nyx could never say no to that.

Crowe helped too. She made it better. And worse. A little half-Galahdian spitfire of a mage they'd come across on their journey to Insomnia. She'd never been to the Isles and her parents had died years ago. Libertus adopted her almost instantly. Nyx…had a harder time. She was Selena's age and they didn't look anything alike really, but he could see his little sister in the tilt of Crowe's smile sometimes. She was stubborn and fierce and wild like a storm.

Selena would have loved her.

Crowe probably would have love Selena too.

It was easy to picture the two of them causing trouble together, shooing him looks as they snickered behind their hands. Nyx ached at the image but let Crowe pull him in with her sharp wit and sly eyes. She was his in the way Libertus was his and Nyx would never let her go.

Crowe adopted them in turn, following them into the Kingsglaive and thriving with the King's magic under her skin.

It was hard.

Hard to serve another King.

Hard to be under the command of another.

Hard to walk forward when his everything had burned to ash.

Hard to shoulder the burden of their people that his sister had been born with.

It was hard.

(It was easier than it should have been.)

His King's ghost lingered over his shoulder. He could feel her there, hovering just out of sight, and he prayed to Ramuh that she understood, that she realized he wasn't breaking his oaths to her, to their people. He prayed to every god he could think of, every messenger, to his mother's ghost and the ghosts of all those lost in Galahd's fall. He prayed to Selena, begging her forgiveness for failing her, for betraying her, for living where she had died.

No one ever answered.

But he bore the weight of their people in his sister's place, carried it every second of every day and didn't allow himself to falter.

It was hard.

(It was easier than it should have been.)

When Nyx was twenty-one, his sister returned to him.

She walked out of a storm with lightning in her eyes and crown beads in her hair and royal purple draped across her shoulders. She fought like a hurricane – fast and fierce and unrelenting – until she stood before him, a smile on her lips and tears streaming down her cheeks.

She'd grown. She was almost up to his shoulders now and Nyx felt his eyes burn when she pushed herself up on her toes. He leaned down to meet her, gently knocking their foreheads together even as his hands wrapped themselves around her arms like vices. That was alright though – she was squeezing his wrists so hard he felt his bones grind together. The pain made it real.

She was real.

His sister was alive.

His King was alive.

"My Paladin," she breathed into the silence between them.

"My King," he returned instantly.

"Brother."

"Sister."

"Nyx."

"Selena."

When Nyx was twenty-one, his King returned to him.

For those interested, there's a tag for this story on my tumblr with things I pull insperation from as well as headcanons and such.

Until next time,

~Elri