"You guys'll probably never have to worry about it," Sylvain finishes his thoughts aloud, staring at the stars above them.
It's cold - it always was in Faerghus - and the four of them lay on a pile of furs out in the Fraldarius grounds, shoulders touching and legs tangling together to share warmth.
"What do you mean?" Ingrid asks, rolling over her side, propping up on an elbow. She rests her cheek in her hand as she stares at him, face hidden in the shadows of the night, hair and eyes glimmering with silver.
Sylvain presses his lips together. Of all the people to ask, it had to be the one that did have to worry about it. "Never mind. Doesn't matter."
"You know," Dimitri speaks up from between them, and Sylvain knows exactly what he will say next, "saying that makes it matter more."
"And we don't keep secrets, Sylvain," Ingrid adds, gentle but firm, "not from each other."
They don't.
When Felix figured out he was a boy, he told them first, before his family.
When Ingrid accidentally found out she was getting a Pegasus for her tenth birthday, despite her father trying his hardest to keep the news hidden, she swore the three of them to secrecy.
When Dimitri made friends with the mysterious girl from the Empire, they received letters detailing nearly every interaction he had with her, so much so they felt they already knew El before they met her.
They knew everything Miklan did to Sylvain when they were out from under watchful eyes.
(But maybe he didn't need to tell them - they could tell from the fading bruises and the wide eyes, the flinches whenever a door slammed or a book set down particularly hard. Adults weren't always privy to believing the cries of children, even if one of them was the Crown Prince of Faerghus.)
But he told them, because that was what they did.
Sylvain stares at the stars a moment more, tracing patterns into the fur under his hand. "It's just... I don't want to get married."
Dimitri hums. "I don't see why we wouldn't understand," he says, "we're young - not even in our teens-"
"You aren't. I'm two years older than you."
Dimitri sighs, pressing on. "Regardless, we don't have to worry about it quite yet."
"You mean you don't," Ingrid nudges Dimitri's foot slightly with her own, "You didn't have your hand promised to someone practically from birth."
"I'll probably have to marry a girl I've only seen twice in my life - if at all," Sylvain says, stretching a little, trying his hardest to avoid elbowing the boys either side of him. He brushes against Dimitri, but somehow avoids jabbing Felix, if his silence is anything to go by.
"But arranged marriages aren't so bad," Ingrid flops back down on the furs as she speaks, "you could end up loving them."
"You got lucky," Dimitri says, though his tone is light.
Ingrid nudges Dimitri again, harder this time, sending his leg into Sylvain's shin. Sylvain glares at her, but in the dark of the night he doubts she noticed.
"This is meant to be a nice night," he says instead, "let's not bring it down with an argument."
"Sorry," Ingrid takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again. She doesn't look at him, instead turning to face the night sky.
With the conversation officially marked as over, and Sylvain resists the urge to sigh.
"Hey, Felix?" Sylvain says instead after a moment, turning his head to his other side. "You've been awfully quiet, are you- oh."
Felix's eyes are closed. His mouth is slightly open, letting out barely audible snores, hair brushing against his nose with every exhale.
Sylvain can't help the slight grin that crosses his face.
He knows Felix well enough to know when he is faking, just to avoid the conversation.
"Did Felix fall asleep?" Ingrid asks from behind Dimitri. He leans over, lying half on Sylvain's chest to see, and gives an affirmative. Ingrid sighs. "Typical."
They don't know Felix as well as he does.
"He's going to miss it," Dimitri says, not moving from on top of Sylvain, "should we wake him?"
"One of you boys will have to, I'm not leaving my spot."
Dimitri extends an arm, poking Felix's shoulder. His brow furrows, and he stirs slightly.
It's a convincing act.
Mostly.
"Felix, wake up," Dimitri pokes him again. Felix opens one eye, glaring up at him.
"What." It's phrased as a statement, not a question.
"You'll miss the shower," Sylvain says softly, and Felix rolls his eyes.
"Can't believe you all came to my home to do some stupid stargazing," he grumbles, turning his face up to the sky just the same.
"Excuse you, we were invited," Sylvain grins, shoving Dimitri off him. Ingrid makes a noise in protest, nearly getting squished.
"By my father, not me."
"Would you rather Glenn be out here with you?"
Felix opens his mouth to argue, then lets it shut again.
Sylvain lets his smugness show, reaching one arm up and lazily flicking Felix's shoulder. Felix elbows him back.
"Hey, stop that!" Ingrid scolds, "you're making regret my decision."
Felix rolls his eyes - Sylvain shouldn't be able to see it in the dark, but Felix always rolls his shoulders too, and Sylvain has to hold back a laugh at how over the top it all is.
"And what decision would that be?" Dimitri asks.
"Glenn invited her to watch it with him." Felix says, "Last week, before you and Sylvain got here."
"Really?" Sylvain says, unable to mask his surprise. Ingrid was always the first to arrive and the last to leave, as her family didn't have a Kingdom to run or a border to protect. Hearing an anecdote from that time was a little odd, as they usually kept quiet, so nobody felt like they were missing out on anything. "I thought he called dumb for it this morning."
"Only because Ingrid rejected him."
"I didn't reject him!" Ingrid says hotly, and Sylvain can imagine the toss of hair over her shoulders if they weren't lying on the ground, staring at the star-bright sky.
"Saying 'no' is kind of a rejection, though." Sylvain points out.
"I said tonight was for my friends, that's all."
"Usually you jump at the chance to spend time with Glenn," Dimitri says, and Sylvain suppresses a smile at just how confused he sounds, "so why not tonight?"
"We've been talking about the Pegasids for months now! Glenn was all-" Ingrid drops her voice down a register in a terrible impression of Glenn. "-'well, since you're here...'" She shakes her head. "Like it was an afterthought! So I told him I was watching the meteor shower with all of you, and that he needs to try better."
"So Glenn's been complaining about how stupid the entire thing is ever since," Felix grumbles, "I kinda agree, it's been hours and we haven't seen anything yet."
"It only just got dark enough to see," Sylvain says. Felix huffs.
"So why did we sit out here so early?"
"Is it not enough to spend time with each other?" Dimitri asks, "though you could have left at any point, it was your choice to remain out here with us."
"Shut up."
Sylvain props himself up on one elbow at that, looking to Felix. He's pouting, and Sylvain doesn't know if the red of his cheeks is from the cold or embarrassment at being called out. He grins when Felix catches his eye, only to have Felix hook his arm in Sylvain's and knock him down again.
Ingrid and Dimitri laugh at his undignified yelp, and he's sure he can hear Felix's quiet giggles as his head nearly slams into the ground. He grins along with them, locking his arm around Felix's, preventing an escape.
"I missed you guys," he says, once the laughs have quietened down, "I really did."
"Aww, you too, Sylvain," Ingrid responds, reaching her arm over Dimitri and finding Sylvain's in the dark. Dimitri makes an offended noise, but Sylvain can hear the smile behind it.
They lie in companionable silence for a minute, only for it to be broken when Dimitri sits bolt upright with a gasp of wonderment, breaking apart Ingrid and Sylvain's hands. "I just saw one!" He says, oblivious to their pain.
"You did?" Felix asks, moving to sit up, only to get pulled back down again by his trapped arm with a startled cry.
"Yes!" Ingrid says. "Oh, there's another!"
"You've gotta be kidding..." Felix grumbles, having missed it in his distraction.
Several minutes go by before the meteors begin to pass in earnest, Ingrid and Dimitri oohing and aahing at each streak across the sky.
"I hope El can see this from Fhirdiad," Dimitri says, "I regret the fact that she couldn't accompany us."
Felix pulls a face, and Dimitri's face brightens as a light streaks by, oblivious to Felix on Sylvain's other side.
"Oh, there's some!" Ingrid lifts an arm to point.
"What?" Felix cranes his neck around, eyes darting across the sky, "where?"
Sylvain starts to laugh at Felix's increasing frustration at the fact that he has somehow missed seeing every single one, which causes Sylvain himself to miss them too.
He sobers up once Ingrid hisses - honest-to-goddess hisses - at him, laughter distracting her too much from the star gazing.
It doesn't stop Sylvain from giggling to himself when Felix finally spots one and cheers so loud he breaks off into coughs and misses the next three.
But then he's curled up into a ball on the furs, Sylvain rubbing his back as the frigid air aggravates his lungs further, and he's nearly hacking them up.
None of them are watching the meteor shower anymore, rearranging themselves so Felix is in the middle, sharing their warmth and trying to help him breathe.
"Are you all right?" Dimitri asks, concern flooding his voice, "you haven't had an attack this bad in a while."
Sylvain stares at Dimitri for a moment, wondering if he actually expects Felix to answer, before he turns back to the smallest of the four, counting quietly for Felix to breathe along to.
It's a few minutes longer before he can breathe evenly again, eyes closed and forehead on Sylvain's shoulder.
"Can I... get some space?"
Dimitri and Ingrid shuffle backwards silently, neither of them taking their eyes off Felix in case he coughs again. Instead, he just sighs.
"I hate feeling weak all the time."
Sylvain doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't, turning his face to the sky, hands pressing into Felix's back.
It had been eight years since the plague had spread across Faerghus.
Eight years ago, Sylvain was five, too young to remember a time without Ingrid, Dimitri and Felix.
Eight years ago, he put all his energy into wishing on stars and flower petals and clocks when they hit the hour that he never would know a time without them.
Dimitri lost his mother.
Ingrid lost her baby brother.
Felix nearly lost his life.
Eight years since the plague, and Felix still hadn't recovered fully - the doctors believed that he never would. Sylvain's fingers tightened on the back of Felix's coat, just remembering the news.
Sylvain had been too young to remember the time before the others. Miklan hated him, and Glenn never really got along with him, so he had always loved them dearly with his entire heart.
And all three would follow him around, stars in their eyes.
He had been too young to remember a time without them.
But lying together in a pile, out in the cold Faerghus night air, Sylvain thinks it doesn't matter.
Those two years couldn't possibly have been as important as this moment is, huddled together with his three closest friends, watching stars fall from the sky.
All their eyes may have been locked on the sky above, but Sylvain's were only on them.
"Oh, oh, oh!" Ingrid cries, just as two fall in tandem, "I forgot - make a wish!"
"Aren't we a little too old for wishes?" Felix says, no edge to his words, no heat. Exhaustion has settled into his eyes and cheeks, seeping into his voice the longer the night goes on.
Sylvain keeps quiet, biting his tongue to stop from pointing out that Felix still believed in pinkie promises and silly superstitions.
In the dark, he supposed, Felix may have thought they would miss his silently mouthed words.
It's partially true - Dimitri and Ingrid are too enraptured by the sight above their heads to notice.
So Sylvain says nothing, instead watching as the stars fall in the reflections of their eyes, repeating his own wish on every single light.
I wish we could stay like this forever.
Felix finally returns to lying down, turning to rest his head on Sylvain's stomach instead of on the furs.
"So what did you wish for?" Ingrid asks, when the space between stars falling had lengthened out too far to keep watching. She gets to her feet, stretching her arms above her head.
Sylvain nudges Felix to bring him back to alertness, watching Ingrid as she rolls her neck from side to side. "Not telling." He says, grinning a little.
She gasps dramatically in response, hands flying to her heart, "but we don't keep secrets, Sylvain!"
He lets out a chuckle, and Felix makes a noise in complaint. "But if I tell you, it won't come true."
They were children, young and innocent and naïve, the only thing they ever had to worry about being what the next day held for them.
They were children, and none of them could never know what the next ten years held for them.
Promises were kept if sworn on linked pinkies.
History was written by the winners.
Wishes only came true if they remained a secret.
(So why, why, why did it all go wrong?)