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 Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:52 am
Takes place early January 2026 immediately after Ruin the Friendship. Énna lived in a small house in a small neighborhood near enough to downtown to be appreciated for its proximity while simultaneously derided for its safety concerns—of which there were few, in Énna’s opinion, having lived there since he was three, but wealthier people than his little family liked to pretend otherwise. He rarely had his friends over even though he knew they wouldn’t make such judgments, so he led Riker to the door with a growing shyness.
The door opened into the living room. The old carpet had been replaced with laminate flooring within the last decade, but the furniture was older and notably mismatched. A gray sofa and a blue loveseat had been situated around a hand-me-down coffee table, tied together with a slightly faded rug and a few decorative pillows. To the right, a TV sat on a low stand. A single lamp illuminated the space in the absence of the sun; whoever first built the house must not have deemed an overhead light or a ceiling fan a valuable asset.
The gas heat kept the house warm in spite of the old, drafty windows. Énna shut the door and met Riker with a bashful smile, listening out for any sign that Dad was still awake.
Ahead sat the dining area, complete with a table that might have fit six if they’d had more than four chairs. A hutch along the back wall held a set of old china and silverware, unused since Daddy died. The kitchen sat to the left of it. A wall concealed most of it from view, but a couple of kitchen cabinets were visible from the door—old wood painted a rich blue, with quartz counters in the place of the original formica.
The house was quiet except for the sound of running water, which abruptly cut off a few moments later. Dad came out from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel. He was a tall man, and broad, with strong arms and a sturdy chest, his midsection gone a little soft with age. His hair was dark, nearly black, kept at a length that was not quite short but couldn’t yet be described as shaggy. A few strands of gray lightened his temples. He sported a full, neatly kept beard. Prone to long hours and late nights, Dad hadn’t yet changed for bed; he still wore the dark jeans and leather jacket Énna had seen him in that morning.
“Thought you’d be with Atticus tonight,” Dad said.
Énna shifted his weight from one foot to the next. “I was, but… Um.” He paused to clear his throat nervously. “This is Riker.”
Dark eyes shifted from Énna to Riker. If Dad recognized the name from any of Énna’s commentary about school, he gave no indication. He studied Riker in a blatantly obvious attempt to size him up, from the red dye in his hair to the state of his clothes.
“Boyfriend?” Dad asked. He had a deep voice with a penchant for grumbling.
A red flush filled Énna’s cheeks in a matter of seconds. “Dad.”
Dad pointed to the door behind them. “Saw you on the security cameras.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:53 am
Riker hesitated just inside the doorway, taking in the space around him. It wasn’t fancy, but it felt lived in. Comfortable. There were mismatched couches, the faint smell of something clean and warm -- detergent, maybe, or soap from dishes. There were little details that caught his eye, like the hutch with its old china, and the way a lamp was used to light the room instead of an overhead.
He didn’t mean to look around too long, but he decided to let it settle around him. It was a reminder that Énna was home. That he was alive and made it back.
The sound of water cutting off pulled him out of his thoughts. When Énna’s dad appeared, Riker straightened automatically, despite the protest of his ribs. The man’s presence filled the room. Clearly someone who worked hard, and who didn’t miss much.
Riker froze for a second under the weight of his stare, only realizing too late that his and Énna’s hands were still linked. But he didn’t let go. Then came the question.
Boyfriend?
If he hadn’t already been running on fumes, Riker might have tried to stammer something coherent, but all that came out was a faint, strangled sound that wasn’t even close to a word. His ears and face burned.
He cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. “Sir,” he said quietly, but with enough steadiness to sound sincere. “If it’s alright, I’d like to stay here tonight. Just to make sure he’s okay. It’s been… kind of a rough night.”
He decided to ignore the part where they’d been caught kissing.
“My parents know where I am,” he added quickly. “They’d be happy to talk to you if you want to make sure I’m not sneaking out or… stealing their car or anything.”
He glanced at Énna, then back to his dad. “I just didn’t want him to be alone if he didn’t want to be.
Riker’s tone softened a bit more at the end. Simple and earnest. Too tired to even attempt defensiveness. “I’ll sleep on the couch, or the floor. Whatever’s fine. I just… want to make sure he’s okay.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:55 am
Dad watched Riker for a few long, silent moments. His expression never changed—eyes stern, mouth neutral, though he tended to frown more than smile and the lines on his face made that known.
Énna watched him watch Riker, anxious to explain but uncertain how to begin. A vibrant flush still burned his cheeks. He cleared his throat and squeezed Riker’s hand on instinct—an apology, maybe, for dragging him into this; gratefulness, too, that Riker had agreed to come with him.
“Rough night, huh?” Dad mused.
His dark stare slipped back to Énna for a moment, accompanied by a brief flicker of concern. He looked over Énna much the same way he’d looked over Riker—face, hair, down to their joined hands—but he seemed to soften around the edges while doing so.
When he decided he’d held them captive long enough, Dad tossed the dish rag onto the dining table and stepped further into the living room, sticking out a hand for Riker. His hands were as big as the rest of him—long fingers on wide palms. They were dry and worn from work, but clean, too. He smelled like whiskey and leather, with a faint trace of motor oil beneath a warm, woodsy cologne.
“Name’s Dominic Cary,” he said. “You can call me Mr. Cary.”
Énna found his voice enough to correct him. “You can call him Nic. Everyone does.”
“Everyone calls me Dom,” Nic argued with a straight face.
“Dad!” Énna ducked his head, cheeks flaming hotter. Then, more insistently, “Don’t listen to him. Everyone calls him Nic.”
Nic made a sound like a scoff, which could’ve just as easily been a short burst of laughter. He kept his hand extended for Riker and waited for him to take it, greeting him with a firm shake. He stared Riker directly in the eye, watching his every reaction—probably searching for something, too. A reason to be suspicious, maybe, or anything that might indicate what Riker had meant by calling it a rough night.
“Sit,” Nic said, motioning to the longer sofa. He took up a spot on the blue loveseat and leaned forward attentively. “I’ll decide if you get to stay after I’ve heard what you’ve got to say.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:55 am
Riker’s grip was steady, even if his ribs screamed at the motion. He matched Mr. Cary’s handshake with firm respect, though it took everything in him not to wince at the pressure. The man’s hands were as solid as they looked.
“Mr. Cary,” Riker said, voice low but even. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
The warmth of Énna’s hand was still anchored in his own, keeping him steady, and he was grateful for the quiet squeeze that came with it. The house felt warmer now that they were sitting down, but the ache in his chest flared with every breath. He hadn’t realized how much effort it took to keep his posture straight until now. Maybe he should’ve taken another painkiller before driving, but he didn’t want to be out of it. Not when Énna needed him clearheaded.
He sat beside him on the sofa, careful not to take up too much space, and let the silence around them settle until it was clear that he was supposed to start. He rubbed his thumb lightly against the back of Énna’s hand, then finally spoke.
“It’s kind of… a lot to explain,” Riker began. His voice came out quieter than he intended, but kept it even at least. “We were out with some friends tonight. Just exploring some old buildings. It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. But something went wrong. We got attacked.”
He hesitated, choosing his next words carefully. “Monsters… I guess is the best way to describe them.”
He could feel Mr. Cary’s eyes on him, and the weight of that stare was enough to make his pulse quicken. “It sounds crazy, I know. But Énna--” He paused, swallowing as the memory of blood soaking both of them came to the surface. “He was hurt. Badly. We all got out but…”
He glanced over at Énna, then back at his dad. “There’s… magic involved. I can’t really explain how it works, but… it’s what saved him.”
His voice dropped a bit lower at the end, not because he was ashamed, but because the truth was heavy. And dangerous. If Énna’s dad ended up being part of the Negaverse…? Maybe Zac and Evan could avenge him if he was corrupted or killed.
“I know it sounds impossible, but it’s the truth.” Riker’s gaze was steady, even though exhaustion tugged at the edges of his vision. Beneath all the strain and weariness, there was nothing rehearsed about him. He was just a teenager trying to tell the truth in a way that made the most sense to someone not involved in the magical war that he and his friends found themselves in. And quietly bracing for whatever came next.
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:55 am
Énna took the spot on the sofa closest to the loveseat, his grip still tight on Riker’s hand. He curled in on himself nervously, made unsteady by the weight of Dad’s stare and the secret aching to free itself. His heart seemed to shrink and stutter, the erratic beat of it loud in his ears.
He meant to speak. Énna had intended all along to be the one to explain, but words failed him when the moment came. He would never be able to express how grateful he was to Riker for taking over, for doing what he couldn’t—but knew he had to. Énna had lied to Dad for too long. Maybe Dad was safer not knowing, but death made hiding it seem so unfair.
The war had already taken Daddy. Énna couldn’t bear for it to take him, too, without Dad understanding why.
Nic watched Riker with the same flat expression with which he’d greeted him. He listened with a vague sort of interest. Nothing about his demeanor changed. His gaze remained locked on Riker’s face, probing his eyes for sincerity.
“Monsters, huh?” he said.
His voice was not quite doubtful, nor was it truly indifferent. He had no visible reaction, except to lean a little further forward. His elbows came to rest on his knees with the soft sound of leather bending against denim.
“It does sound impossible,” Nic agreed. Then, a little more firmly, “It sounds insane.”
“He isn’t lying,” Énna said. Unease kept his voice low—a fragile whisper through a tightening throat. “There are monsters, and… people who control them. There’s a war…”
“A war,” Nic said, like he was taking it all in.
“Yeah…”
Énna knew the importance of secrecy. He’d been fortunate to awaken in the presence of someone who could explain, who knew the dangers of the war and how to combat them. Énna trusted Ganymede’s judgment. He’d never had any reason to question her advice. She cared for him as much as anyone who wasn’t family could care for someone. She wouldn’t lead him astray.
But there was a part of him that hated it. He looked at Dad and saw a kind man with a strong sense of justice. Dad would never align himself with the Negaverse. The concept made no sense. He would’ve known what happened to Daddy. He wouldn’t stand for that sort of evil.
“The monsters, they’re called—”
“Let me stop you right there,” Nic said.
Énna’s mouth snapped shut with a click of teeth. Nic watched him squirm. The movement took him closer to Riker, thigh against thigh, arms tangled together, hands still tightly clasped.
Nic’s chest expanded. He let the air out on a heavy sigh.
He sat up and fished beneath his t-shirt for the chain half hidden beneath, a glint of silver in the lamplight. Hanging from the chain was a silver ring—a thick band without any adornment, and a round, flat face. To most people it would look inconspicuous—a memento, maybe, or a family heirloom, worn more for sentimentality than anything functional.
Nic held it aloft so the ring caught the light. He watched Énna’s gaze drop to it.
“I want you to tell me what you think this is,” Nic said.
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:55 am
Riker hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until Mr. Cary sighed. Riker’s fingers twitched faintly where they laced with Énna’s, a silent reminder that he was still there to support him, even if every second felt like preparing for whiplash between disaster and relief.
He started to shift his weight to ease the pull in his ribs -- but froze when he saw what Nic pulled from under his shirt.
And for a moment, Riker’s racing thoughts went perfectly still.
The chain, the silver, the smooth, flat face of the ring. Plain. Ordinary. Too ordinary. The kind of ordinary that wasn’t meant to draw attention.
And yet, it was familiar in a way that was heavy enough to silence Riker completely. His pulse raced. And while he hadn’t seen that exact ring before, he knew what it was. Because he was wearing one.
Wordlessly, Riker let go of Énna’s hand just long enough to lift his own, showing the simple, flat faced ring on his finger.
“That’s a knight’s signet ring,” he said softly. His voice was low and even, but there was something like stunned disbelief under the surface.
He glanced between Nic and the ring again. “You’re--” He hesitated, unsure how much to assume out loud. “You’re a Knight.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:56 am
Énna froze. His gaze locked onto the ring. The silver caught the lamplight and seemed to glow golden.
He’d noticed the ring the way one noticed things that were always there, but he hadn’t had any reason to consider that its origins or its purpose were something worth questioning. Dad had worn it for years now, so long Énna couldn’t remember when he’d first seen it. For all he’d known it was a family piece, passed on to Dad by a sympathetic relative. Dad didn’t discuss his family much so Énna never dug too deeply. A ring was a ring. Maybe it meant something to Dad; it didn’t have to mean something to Énna.
The shape of it was conspicuously inconspicuous. The lack of any ornamentation made it easy to overlook. There were no jewels, no engravings, no symbols. Even someone with their own signet ring might not have known what they were looking at without the conversation offering enough context.
“A Knight?” Nic scoffed. “No, I’m not a Knight.”
He watched the color drain from Énna’s face, watched his eyes widen with something like fear, and decided now wasn’t the time to leave them in suspense.
“Cameron was. Énna’s dad. Looked a bit like him,” he said, motioning to a collection of photographs along the wall behind him. Many of them featured Énna as a younger child, bright eyed and smiling, but a few others showed a family of three, or Nic with another man who shared some of Énna’s features. Blond hair. Blue eyes instead of teal. A similar shape to his face. The same smile. “Maybe you knew him. He was a teacher at Knightside. Would’ve died when you were a student there.”
Tears sprang into Énna’s eyes.
“Daddy was a Knight?” he said, voice low and tremulous.
From the beginning, Énna had wondered. The moment he’d learned what the loss of a starseed resulted in, he’d known Daddy had died because of the war. It hadn’t seemed like too much of a stretch to think he might have been involved somehow. Ganymede had said it ran in families sometimes. Énna’s blood had to have come from somewhere. As far as he was aware, Ganymedean blood magic had nothing to do with starseeds.
When he’d considered the possibility before, Énna had thought he would be content to discover the truth, that the connection to Daddy would fill him with something like pride.
Instead, it left an ache in his heart he didn’t know how to soothe.
Daddy had led a secret life Énna might have never known.
Daddy died for a war Énna saw no end to.
“I take it you are, too,” Nic said, letting the ring drop. It settled over his shirt, hanging at the center of his chest. He gave Riker’s ring a cursory glance but reserved most of his attention for Énna. “That’s what you’ve been getting up to with your friends. Is Atticus one, too?” he asked, voice rising a bit in disbelief. He didn’t wait for an answer. His frown deepened. “Poor kid. He’s too soft for it. Those Negaverse pricks’ll chew him up and spit him out.”
Énna flinched. Out of all the ways he’d imagined this conversation might go, he’d never once considered that Dad might know enough to speak of it so casually.
“You knew this whole time?” he said.
“About you? I suspected. Couldn’t prove it. Been waiting for you to tell me yourself. Thought you might back in April. You fought that snake, didn’t you? The one that would’ve destroyed everything.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:56 am
Riker stared at Nic for a long moment, trying to process what he’d just said.
Not a Knight.
But Cameron was.
It was like a punch to his ribs. Not because of the name, but because of the look on Énna’s face. He’d seen that same expression once before, when Énna told him what had happened to his daddy. When he’d said it quietly, like it was something that would break him apart like glass if he said too much.
Riker’s throat felt too tight. He wanted to say something comforting, but nothing he could say would make it better. So instead, he looked back at Nic. “I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t enough. Something like that after a loss so great was never enough, but it was all he could think of to say. He collected himself and drew in a breath.
When Nic mentioned the snake, Riker glanced at him a bit warily. Not because it was suspicious, but because he really did know this whole time. He rubbed his thumb absently against Énna’s knuckles to ground himself.
“We found a den of youma in an office building,” he continued with amending his explanation since he didn’t have to go over all of the details if Nic already knew. “There were strange plants being grown there. We took care of the youma and were trying to see what information we could gather when a General attacked us.”
He paused, weighing how much to say, but there didn’t seem to be much point in holding back.
“Some of us were pretty hurt, but we managed to get to the Celestial Theatre on the Moon. Called for backup. Knights and Senshi who knew what to do. They made sure everyone got treated. We had healing, and antibiotics. I wouldn’t have let Énna go into that building if I knew what we would’ve found. We’re careful. We take precautions. We’re not reckless.”
He took another breath, slow and deliberate because he knew it shifted from just explaining things to trying to defend himself and his actions that could have led to Énna’s death. The ache in his ribs was getting sharper now, but he kept his voice even.
“It’s not about showing off or proving anything. I’d do whatever it takes to keep Énna safe, but the same goes for the others. I don’t leave people behind. We don’t leave people behind.”
He meant it. Every word of it. And despite the exhaustion, despite the lingering pain, there was a quiet strength behind it. Conviction that had nothing to do with bravado.
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:57 am
Nic’s demeanor didn’t change. Not when he talked about Cameron. Not when Riker offered his sympathies. He only softened when he noticed the tears hanging at the corners of Énna’s eyes. Nic’s frown took on a sad edge—less stern, more compassionate.
“Didn’t know youma had dens,” Nic said.
He spoke with an ease that came with years of familiarity. He’d had his chance to be shocked and uneasy about the state of things a long time ago. These days all he had left for the war was bitterness and anger.
His gaze shifted back to Riker, narrowing not with fury or disapproval, but like he was trying to get a feel for what kind of kid Riker was—what kind of Knight he wanted to be. Brave, maybe. Or stupid. The type to act the hero without thinking of himself as one. He sat next to Énna protectively, touched his hand carefully, like Énna meant something to him. Friends, boyfriends, both, or neither. Maybe it didn’t matter much in war. You took what allies you could get, and you held onto them.
“You’re not reckless, but you went into an old building—Abandoned, I’m assuming. Boarded up, maybe. Should’ve been condemned and demolished a long time ago but someone somewhere made sure it stuck around ‘cause it makes a convenient hideout. You went in there without any idea what you were getting yourselves into, and you were lucky enough to come out of it alive.”
Nic’s dark, steady stare slid over to Énna again just as the first tear slid down Énna’s cheek.
“You were hurt?”
Énna tried to breathe, but it got stuck halfway up his throat and resulted in several gasps in quick succession. The tears fell before he thought to brush them away, streaming down his cheeks in thick tracks. He didn’t remember crying when he’d laid on top of Riker, staring at the ceiling as blood spread around them and darkness crept in. He didn’t remember crying when he came to, writhing through the pain as magic stitched him back together again. He didn’t remember crying when he woke later in the springs, yearning for something he had no name for, half lost to memories he didn’t understand.
But Daddy was dead, and Dad knew why, and if Énna had died Dad would have known exactly how it happened.
It seemed worse, somehow, for Dad to be so matter of fact about it. For him to accept that fate, because he was powerless to do anything about it.
“I was dead,” Énna said. He had to force the words out, his voice thick with fear and grief. “The General had a sword. He—” Énna’s arm drifted back over his middle. He didn’t know if the pain was real or if it was all in his head, but it throbbed with every heaving breath. “He cut me open, and I died, but my friends saved me, and I didn’t want it to happen again without telling you the truth.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:57 am
For a long moment, Riker couldn’t breathe. He’d seen Énna hurt before, seen him terrified and bleeding out in his arms, but hearing him say I was dead... hearing him tell his dad that… it felt like something broke inside him.
He didn’t want to argue with Nic, though the word reckless felt like a splinter under his skin. He wasn’t reckless. None of them were. They didn’t run into things blind. They could sense the difference between a faint aura and something dangerous, and they’d thought -- really thought -- they could handle whatever they found in that building. They were trying to make sure no one was trapped or hurt. They didn’t have time to wait for someone else to show up.
He shifted, slipping his arm around Énna’s shoulders and pulling him close. He didn’t care that Nic was watching. He just wanted Énna to stop shaking.
“Hey,” he said quietly, leaning his forehead against Énna’s temple. “You’re here. You’re okay.”
He rubbed his thumb over Énna’s shoulder, hoping to help settle them both. “You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to. I can tell him the rest.”
He glanced up at Nic, careful to keep his tone respectful even though his jaw was tight.
“You can be mad at me if you need to, but it wasn’t his fault. We thought someone might be in danger, and we didn’t have time to wait for backup. If we’d been wrong, no one would’ve gotten hurt. But if we were right and we did nothing, someone could’ve died. We made the best call we could.”
He hesitated, rubbing his hand over Énna’s shoulder again. “I don’t want him to go through that again, either. Or any of our friends. I’d do everything I can to make sure he doesn’t.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:57 am
“Never said it was his fault,” Nic countered. His voice had gone lower—still gruff, but with an underlying softness to it. “Never said it was yours either.”
Nic looked at them and saw them as they were: two kids who wanted to use their powers for good, who got in over their heads in a war that had no intention of being kind to them. Maybe they had experience. Maybe they were good at what they did—bold but thoughtful, daring but compassionate. They’d use their magic to save others because sitting on the sidelines while the Negaverse did what they wanted was intolerable.
Cameron had been like that, too.
In a better world, none of them would have to risk their lives for it.
“Énna,” Nic said, quietly affectionate in a way Riker had not yet seen. “Come here.”
Énna curled into Riker, soaking his shirt with tears. He tried to stop them but had no control anymore, overcome by heaving sobs.
He pulled away only when Dad called for him. Then he stumbled from the couch to the loveseat, squeezing into the spot between dad and the plush arm. Énna put his head on Dad’s shoulder and let Dad’s arms wrap around him. Fingers slipped through his hair, combing some of the long strands out of his face. Through his watery vision, Énna stared at the silver ring hanging against Dad’s chest, resting near his heart.
Nic wrapped Énna in a tight embrace, holding Énna to him like he thought Énna might disappear the second he let him go. He dropped a kiss onto Énna’s hair and closed his eyes to take a slow, grateful breath.
Nic might be a brusque man, but he loved his son.
“Thank you for bringing him back to me,” he said, peering at Riker over Énna’s head.
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:58 am
Riker’s arms dropped slowly when Enna moved, the warmth and weight of him gone all at once. For a few seconds, he just sat there with his hands awkwardly clasped in his lap, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them now that he wasn’t keeping someone together. He looked down, then off toward the photos on the wall, trying not to stare at how tightly Nic was holding his son.
It wasn’t jealousy, but there was a quiet ache of knowing there were things he couldn’t protect Enna from. Things no one could.
When Nic spoke again, Riker blinked and looked up. He didn’t know what to do with the weight of the words being directed at him.
“Thank you for bringing him back to me.”
Riker’s throat went tight. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I just--” He hesitated, trying to piece together the right words.
“He’s important to me. He’s important to our friends. I wasn’t the only one who made sure he got back. We all look out for each other,” he said quietly, trying not to let his frustration show, knowing that he alone could not have saved Enna, no matter how much he wanted to.
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:58 am
The frown never left Nic’s face, but it wasn’t intolerant or cruel. It seemed he had a face that didn’t know how to smile. Maybe he’d forgotten. The photos on the wall showed a less worn and guarded man, years ago when he’d had no reason to be as reserved, when joy had come easier—for him and for Énna.
He didn’t argue with Riker. He didn’t ask for details. Those would come later. His suspicions would return. His tendency to be skeptical and incredulous would become more apparent. He would watch Riker like he was waiting for Riker to earn his disapproval. Énna liked him. That much was clear. Riker seemed to like Énna, too. Nic didn’t know what to do with that, except to watch and wait and test Riker where he could, so he could be certain Énna would be taken care of.
For now, Nic sat in his gratitude. He let Énna cry. He let Riker belong.
Énna cried through the exchange. He cried through the silence that followed. He cried until he had no more energy for it, when his heavy sobs became quiet, hiccuping breaths. He cried until his face was red and itchy, until his nose was wet and stuffy, until everything ached so much he thought the magic holding him together might fail.
Then he wiped at his face. He held his breath until he stopped heaving, until his erratic gasps gave way to something slower and more even. He kept his head on Dad’s shoulder, hiding almost as much as he was seeking comfort. The more calm he felt, the more embarrassment set in.
Tentatively, Énna touched Daddy’s ring. The metal was skin-warm and smooth, with no dents or smudges to blemish it.
“Daddy was a knight,” Énna whispered.
“Yes,” Dad said.
“That’s why he died.”
Dad’s arms tightened around him. His hand sank into Énna’s hair, cradling his head. “Yes.”
Nic closed his eyes again. His frown grew harsher beneath his beard, highlighting the lines on his face. “I wish we’d never moved to the God forsaken city.”
Énna sniffled. He rubbed his nose against the sleeve of his sweater, then mopped up some of his tears with the other.
He wasn’t sure he shared the sentiment. If they’d never moved to Destiny City, Daddy might not have died and Énna might never have known of his own power, but he wouldn’t have met any of his friends either. Maybe he would have lived a peaceful life. Maybe the war would have found him anyway. Maybe he would have awakened elsewhere, and died before he truly understood what he was, hunted down, alone, with no one to save him.
Instead of arguing, Énna asked, “Was he Yvoire, too?”
“No,” Dad said.
The answer landed like a punch to the gut, like a sinking stone. Heavy. Final. That Daddy could have been anything else hadn’t occurred to Énna. Énna had the starseed, but Daddy must have had the bloodline.
Nic felt Énna tense. He smoothed a calming hand over Énna’s hair.
“He was Sidon,” he said. “Neptune. Wore some ridiculous ballroom outfit with netting and shells and pearls.”
Nic’s frown eased somewhat. The furrow between his brows softened. A few of the shadows in the eyes receded, like he might have some fond memories lost among the bad ones.
“I always wanted to snag some of the pearls. See if they were worth anything.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:59 am
Riker stayed quiet. He didn’t know what to say, and it didn’t feel like he should say anything, anyway. The air in the room had changed. It was thicker, heavier, personal in a way that made him feel even more like an outsider.
Pulled at thoughts that he’d been desperately trying to push away. That he didn’t belong there. That he wasn’t wanted. That he was intruding.
He clenched his jaw and forced himself to continue looking at the pictures around the room, his thumb pressing against the signet ring he wore to ground himself. There was no reason for him to even think those things, except that he was clearly the outsider in this.
The thought of Énna having never moved to Destiny City, of having never met him… Maybe he would have powered up and they would have met at their Wonders. Or maybe something would have happened and they would have never known each other. Maybe without Yvoire’s help, he and the others would have never survived the fiasco at that bank when they’d first awakened.
The name Sidon didn’t ring any bells, nor was he familiar with any Neptune knights. But then again, he knew Enna’s dad had died before they’d even awakened. But he wasn’t sure how to piece the information together. He knew where his own power came from, or at least he knew what made the most sense. But there was something strange about Enna being a different Knight than his dad.
He remembered the way Enna’s blood had reacted at his Wonder. How it was the only way to access certain areas. How it led him to his summon. His blood had magic in ways Riker couldn’t explain.
Riker shifted slightly in his seat, still careful not to draw too much attention to himself. He hesitated, then spoke softly, almost as if just thinking out loud.
“So… uh, if he was Sidon… his blood had magic too, right?” he asked carefully, glancing at Enna in case he needed to quickly shut up and change the subject. “Because… I mean, Enna’s blood… it does things mine can’t. At his Wonder…”
He didn’t want to overstep, he didn’t want to pry, but there were questions he now had that, from Enna’s expression, he could only imagine Enna had as well.
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 9:59 am
“Blood didn’t have anything to do with it,” Nic said, back to his usual brusque tone. He kept Énna close for however long Énna let him. “It was the starseed. Or that’s how Cam explained it.”
Énna fiddled with Daddy’s ring, looking for anything that might answer his question, that might make sense, but he found nothing.
It was strange to hear Dad talk about starseeds. It was strange to hear him talk about the Negaverse. It was strange to hear him say Daddy had no connection to Ganymede at all when Énna had spent the last year assuming it must be so—wanting it to be so, like a piece of Daddy lived on within him.
Énna looked toward Riker, hopeless, rattled. He’d thought learning more about Daddy would explain some of the things he didn’t understand about himself, about Yvoire and Reims, and the voices he’d heard screaming in the grove beneath the Cathedral. Now he felt more lost than he’d been before.
“Why?” Nic asked, glancing between the two. Secrets seemed to pass between them in silence. “What’s this about your blood?”
“...I don’t know,” Énna said.
He still hadn’t told Ganymede, even now. Her world seemed sacred to her. She was so protective, so proud. She carried so many memories, yet she knew nothing about the stone slab beneath Reims. Maybe she knew nothing about the blood magic. Énna was afraid to tell her. Having abilities she might not on a world she’d been so devoted to seemed to him like an intrusion.
“There’s been magic only I can use,” Énna explained. “Or… seals only I can open. Blood magic. I’ve had memories…”
They rose within him like an advancing tide. Énna closed his eyes to block them out: A girl with pale eyes and long, pale hair screaming his name. Begging.
Don’t let them do this!
Énna inhaled sharply. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze fell back on Riker. For a moment, Riker’s image blurred. With shadows cast over his face from the solitary lamp, Riker looked older. More worn. His eyes gleamed blue instead of red, but Énna blinked and the vision was gone.
“Who’s Yvoire?” Nic asked.
“I am,” Énna said. “I thought… maybe Daddy was a Knight of Ganymede, too.”
“Ganymede.” Something flashed in Nic’s dark eyes. Recognition. Unease. “Not a great name to be attached to.”
“You know her?” Énna asked.
“Of her,” Nic clarified. “I’ve only met a few of them. Cam’s friends. Most of them—”
He cut himself off. Cameron was dead. Énna had died and come back to life. Talking any more about death felt like an ill omen. As far as Nic was concerned, that was all the war brought anyone: death and misery. Of course it would come for him again through his son.
When he got his thoughts back in order, Nic said, “I’m not the only powerless partner of a Knight or Senshi. I’m not the only one who’s lost family to it. We keep in touch, make sure we’re as up to date as we can be. We’ve probably missed things over the years. I’ve done some investigating on my own, trying to figure out who killed your dad.”
“Do you know?” Énna said, jerking back around to meet his gaze.
“No, not yet.”
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