"Please. Bring him back."

How long has it been...since Lux prayed that?

Ten thousand years?

No.

He's lived as Lux at least three hundred times. On average, he died at the age of eighty. That means he should've spent at least 24000 years already.

It can't be ten thousand.

Perhaps...a hundred thousand?

How many lives has Lux even lived?

He's been Orphet's assistant, Ogan's scribe, and Mrs. Tilly's helper. He's been Old Man Reggie's heir, Diana's best friend, and Lady Cream's apprentice. He's been...he's been lots of persons. In fact, Lux has lived so much already that he's managed to become familiar with virtually every citizen of Morpheus. Heck, he's even memorized pretty much every single way most of them could die!

A hundred thousand? Probably barely half his age.

A comet streaked, drawing a white line that vanished as swiftly as it had appeared.

"Huh. Another life?"

The Hand of Chronus gave no response as a ten year old Lux found himself kneeling before the artifact.

Just twenty seconds ago, he was back at the castle, conjuring a protective spell, as Nihila, the God of Nothing, was destroying the entire kingdom with corruptive magic.

Evidently, Lux has failed.

And died.

Again.

The child got to his feet and brushed dust off his pebble-sized knees. "Ninety-two years, that time. That's the longest I've lived!"

A squirrel ran through bushes.

"Obviously, that doesn't matter. In the end, I still couldn't save Morpheus. More and more I'm beginning to believe I won't ever be able to."

The rodent's nose crumpled as it sniffed rocks on the ground.

"At least now I can start again. That's always been the best part of this curse you've given." Lux's hair flailed as he turned his back on the artifact. "Of course, it's always been the worst part, as well."

The squirrel paused and watched as Lux began to walk away.

"I know I've said that hundreds of times, Chronus. But you don't seem to be growing tired of it. If you are, you would want to set me free, right?"

The relic remained silent.

"Of course you won't answer that. You never do. I'll see you on my next life."

The squirrel scurried away as Lux trod by.

Where was he headed? To the outpost at the edge of Ectra City.

There, survivors of the invasion have all been gathering, in the hopes of crossing the Vivid River and taking refuge in Morpheus. Thankfully, as Astel has always had a great relationship with the goddess Arisma, he was always more than open to accept her citizens at such times.

At Ectra, Lux would be meeting a man named Cashmere Gruem. A craftsman who was always vital for the future Lux wanted.

"Them here." A lady in purple armor gestured towards where Lux was. "Children from the ruined orphanage of Laven."

"Where will they go?" A man heaved a crate onto a wagon.

"There are many shelters for children in Morpheus. They'll most likely be distributed to several."

"Poor dears. Many of them probably haven't even met their real families before." The man sighed, his gray eyes falling upon Lux's. "Now they're gonna be losing the only one they've ever known."

Cashmere Gruem.

The first step.

In Lux's many reincarnations, Cashmere would repeatedly describe how he'd felt a certain connection, at that moment, when their eyes first locked together. A connection that was enforced by a strong desire to help, along with pity, and one that would summon an thought in Cashmere's head: to foster Lux among his children.

When they first lived together, Lux had witnessed Cashmere invent the cycosphere. From the drafting, to the molding, up till the assembling of parts. When it had been patented, Cashmere was so, so proud, and so, so triumphant that his joy even revived what remained of Lux's passions.

It gave him motivation. Inspiration. And emotions!

And along those...an idea.

"I wonder what would happen if I invent the cycosphere. As a twelve year old. Surely I could pull it off. I've seen the measurements dozens of times. They're all in my head. Why don't I...try? Why not?"

He found no reason not to.

Hence, on his next life, and all lives thereafter, he would follow every single step that Cashmere had taken, create the cycosphere, and present the invention as his own.

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To not much shock, he would capture the king's attention. He'd be summoned to the castle, at the capital, where he'll be meeting King Astel, and talking to the god about many of the things he's learned in his thousands of lives, without, of course, explaining how he knew so much.

King Astel, impressed, would then decide to speak with Cashmere and ask for Lux to move in to the castle as his adopted child.

Like a god, in control of his own destiny, Lux has memorized every step necessary in order to be where he wanted.

Like a god. A god.

Like Astel.

Speaking of whom, owing to the nature of God Relics, of siphoning life out of their beholders, Astel was always destined to grow ill by the time Lux reached fifteen.

On a night when stars refused to dance and concealed themselves behind gray clouds, the God of Dreams would inevitably fall victim to the prison that was his bed.

"My child?" Astel whispered, clawing his chest as if digging something out. "The sands of my life are soon to be no more. As much as I would love to discover more about your mind, mine needs to survive."

Wisps of purple light twirled from the god's body as he extracted the Mind of Morpheus.

"This...is my relic. For now, it is yours to keep, until such time when the God of Dreams' magic once again awakens after my death. Beware that it shall not fall to the hands of who may not behold it. Lest the dreams of this universe be eternally consumed by oblivion."

Lux opened his palms. "I promise."

Astel wheezed for air as the last of his magic collected between Lux's fingers. "With that, I also give you my kingdom. Care for the people as much as you would the artifact, understood?"

"Understood."

"Very well. Tonight will be my last, dear Lux. Don't forget to feed my phobetlings either, or else, I'll be haunting your nightmares."

A bitter giggle escaped Lux. "I promise that too, my king."

"Farewell."

"Farewell."

The first time that happened, Lux experienced an unexplainable enlightenment. As if that had been the reason he remained alive all those millennia.

He made a promise.

To make sure that The Mind would go only to the hands of the one who deserved it: the next God of Dreams.

For a while, Lux believed that all he needed to do was safeguard the relic. Keep it from reach, keep it from sight. Every time it was destroyed, he simply started over, avoiding all actions that could lead him to the same failure. Being aware of the future, there was never a reason for him to worry at all.

Again, he was like a god.

With power over destiny.

With power over knowledge!

With perfect control!

So he thought. Until....

"I've written all instructions in that, Mistress Opa." Lux leaned over his desk, signing a piece of paper for a transaction with the Kingdom of Chrysos. "Please have someone bring it to the tailor."

Mistress Opa unrolled a scroll and squinted at the cursive print. "Purple, black, and red tabards? I can't help but wonder what their hair would be like."

"You know me and colors."

"Indeed, indeed." Mistress Opa rolled the sheet back to the cylinder that it once was. "Before I go, Your Highness, I would like to have you know that a royal courier has delivered a message for you this morning." She used the scroll to point. "It's that right there."

With a white wax seal, an envelope was sitting just under an hourglass on the table.

A letter. From King Animus? But he wasn't supposed to be sending anything until--

"I'll have Mistress Adelaida deliver this herself. Have a great day, my king."

"Right. Very well. Thank you."

Mistress Opa bowed.

As the lady helped herself outside of the office, Lux shoved the hourglass, snatched the envelope, tore off its edge, and then picked out a sheet that was folded twice.

Opened, it said, "Dear King Lux, I have received your request to hire three of my most outstanding students: Thomas Pantrem, Dorias Warimbion, and Tardrem Torisetti. While I would like to present all of whom you have wished for, I would only be able to provide two: Thomas Pantrem and Dorias Warimbion. Tardrem Torisetti has long been separated from my institution and would not be endorsed as a White Knight for that reason. However, there is another whom I can, and gladly so, offer. A man whose name is Winston Hickright-Hedge, who will, I promise, be as reliable as all other knights I've provided before."

Winston Hickright-Hedge.

Who, in the name of Morpheus, was that?

A fine, silver-haired man, with eyes so blue they looked like crystals, and lips thin enough for Lux to wish he was always close to see, and touch, and--No. That man was trouble. Lux had realized that the moment they first saw each other during the baptism.

The fact that Lux has never met Winston in his tens of thousands of lives...has taken away Lux's full control over the fate of Morpheus and The Mind.

Where did that man even come from?How was he here? What happened to Tardrem? Has Lux made a mistake?Did he, at some point, breathe when he wasn't supposed to and caused such a change? There were too many questions that bothered him. And emotions. Too many emotions too. Shock. Confusion. Anxiety. Fear! Wonder! There were too much.

But! All of those vanished.

That night.

During the battle with Zeal.

When Winston saved the kingdom, in place of Tardrem, and revealed that his weapon was capable of using a god's spell.

At that moment, Lux thought...that perhaps...perhaps Winston wasn't there just to ruin Lux's control. Perhaps Winston could actually be the key to finally ensuring Morpheus's future!

But...where has he been? All that time. Why now? Why was he here now? Where has he been all those lives before? Where was he?

Who was he?

Who was...Winston?

"I just need answers."

A breeze blew by, lifting some strands of Lux's hair.

Before him, The Hand of Chronus was muttering no response. The same way it hasn't for hundreds of thousands of years.

Lux let out a dismayed sigh. "I know. I know you still won't be here tonight. It's like you never have time, which is, you know, ironic, since you're the god of it."

Crickets began to chirp in a nearby patch of grass.

"Alright. I'm leaving now. But so help me, I'm definitely coming back. In this life. Oh, I swear, in this life, I'll be nagging you a lot. Hah! Astral Magic. Lucid Lycanthropy. Kitsune!"

Light flashed.

By the time Lux returned to the castle, the moon and stars have already gone way up in the black sky. Gladly, it wasn't yet late enough that the entire kingdom had to be dispatched on a hunt for him. Actually, no one even seemed to have realized he was ever away at all. Except, apparently...

"General Gideon?"

A proud knight, at the age of fifty-two, with white eyes that seemed blind and yet saw everything, was following as Lux walked through a hall. "You weren't in your office. I received no response when I knocked on your room. Even Mistress Opa didn't know where to find you."

Lux curtsied.

Annoyance grew in the general's empty pupils. "Where have you been?"

"General Gideon, I think the better question to ask here is, 'Why are you here?' Didn't I send you to Aftar?"

The general looked away, hiding his face and anger, which he probably did by instinct, but revealed what was left of his little respect. "Yes, yes. You did."

"Is it over?"

"No. That's why I'm here. Our defenses at Aftar are no longer holding up. And reports are saying that the Kingdom of Melpomene will be sending armies with four generals. I won't be able to handle all of them myself!"

"Don't worry."

General Gideon marched to a window and watched knights training outside. "How could you not worry? Isn't Aftar your hometown?"

"Mhmm."

The general frowned.

"As we speak, the four of Icarus, Blake, Gian, and Slate are all snoring in a cycosphere heading to Aftar. Soon, I'll be sending the rest of the Royal Circle as well."

"Why not send all of them at once?"

"For now, there are other things they must be dealing with."

"Some things so important, those must be."

"Things that are, I would argue, necessary for their maturity, General Gideon."

General Gideon bobbed his head, though doubt and concern still lingered around him. "I admit, even though it's already been three years, I still haven't learned to put my confidence in you. But I have noticed you're somehow always one step ahead of everybody."