Xavier's Little Star

The cycle

I barely got any sleep that night. It was strange because whenever I slept next to Xavier, I usually had the most restful sleep possible. But that night, I had a horrible dream.

There was a boy, a young boy, around 8 years old, crying as an older boy held his hand. They were running from the bombs in the city. The little one ran until his legs couldn't carry him anymore; he fell, and then someone killed him, right in front of the older boy.

But it didn't stop there. The dream followed a sequence of disasters, all with the same plot—a young boy running with an older one, always ending in death and fear. The strange thing is that I felt the little boy's pain. I had this dream five times until I finally woke up, terrified. I was on the couch, lying on top of Xavier, who was sitting and gently caressing my head.

"Shh... it's okay," he said as his fingers ran through my hair.

"How did you..." I tried to ask.

"You move a lot," he said. "Just stay still, I've got you."

"What does this dream... mean?" I asked.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow. Now, sleep," he said in his soft voice.

I slept, and this time, I didn't dream of anything.

I woke up around noon. Xavier was making coffee. I sat up, still feeling groggy. I looked at the table; there were the books I had delivered. They were all marked as done. Xavier, noticing that I was awake, handed me a cup of coffee and sat next to me. He looked at me, waiting for me to start talking.

"So, you're done correcting the books I gave you?" I asked.

"Yes, I didn't sleep. I was checking on you," he said, as if staying awake all night to watch over me was no big deal. I felt my cheeks grow warm and red.

"Do you remember the dream?" he asked. A shiver ran through me as I recalled how that little kid died over and over again in different situations.

"How could I not?" I said, sipping my coffee.

"I had those dreams too. And when the little one died, I remember the older one praying for his Little Star to come back to life. It's full of desperation," he said.

"How do you know that I dreamt about that?" I asked.

"Because you were talking in your sleep," he said.

After talking for a long time, we reached one conclusion: this was a cycle. Through different lives, there was always a little boy who died and an older one trying to save him. The thing is, I don't remember being the Little Star, but Xavier could recall every single detail as if he had lived through all those years. Xavier told me that this time, he would protect me, and he wouldn't let me die. But how could he be so sure? In my dreams, it felt like destiny—to die in front of Xavier. Just thinking about it breaks my heart. Dying is awful, but dying in front of someone who loves you is cruel. And Xavier had lived through that many times, watching that kid always getting killed in front of him.

"I'm going to break this cycle," he said confidently. "This time, I won't let you die, Carlos."

"How? How are we going to break it?" I asked.

"The N109 zone. That's the zone where all Wanderers come from. I'm sure we'll find something there," he said.

"How do we get there?" I asked.

"No idea. I've been investigating this for years... I think there's a casino in Linkon City called Sylus's Drink. I think we've got to go there."