The harsh, fluorescent light of his small kitchen buzzed softly in the midnight quiet.
Kagen Walker sat alone at their family's wooden dining table, staring blankly down at a simple plate of microwaved rice and grilled chicken. He reached out out of pure habit, his fingers searching the right side of the placemat for a silver linen napkin to drape over his lap, or a slender crystal glass of warm herbal digestive tea.
Instead, his hand brushed against a cheap paper napkin and a condensation-slicked glass of ice water.
Kagen blinked, pulling his hand back as if he had been burned. A bitter, tired smile touched his lips.
"Right..." he murmured to himself in the quiet room. "No Elias waiting behind my chair with a silver pitcher."
He picked up his metal fork with his right hand and held his knife in his left, cutting into the chicken. But as he lifted the piece toward his mouth, his spine automatically stiffened into the rigid, perfect posture required by the Edrathian High Court. He held his elbows tucked tightly against his ribs, his chin elevated precisely three inches above the collar of his worn cotton hoodie, waiting for the silent nod of approval from an imperial tutor.
He froze mid-bite, realizing how ridiculous he looked sitting at the dining table in the middle of modern Earth, dining like an Imperial Prince receiving foreign dignitaries.
He let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping as he set the fork down with a loud, metallic clink.
The transition back to his original life on Earth had not been clean. The memories of Edrath didn't stay behind in another dimension; they haunted every mundane corner of his daily routine.
Later that evening, after hours of staring aimlessly at a glowing computer screen trying to catch up on human news, Kagen felt a sudden, sharp ache in his lower back—a phantom memory of his pregnancy and the heavy silk robes he used to wear.
Without thinking, he turned toward the shadowed doorway of his small bedroom, his voice slipping out softly before his conscious mind could stop it:
"Lucien... could you fetch the warm tea...?"
Silence answered him.
The quiet in the room was deafening. There was no tall, silver-haired Duke standing guard near the doorway. No warm, steady presence stepping forward with a quiet, reverent bow to drape a wool blanket over his shoulders and caress his face with a soft lingering kiss on his cheekbones. There was only the low hum of his computer and the distant rumble of city traffic outside his window.
Kagen closed his eyes tightly, pressing the heels of his palms against his face as a lump formed in his throat.
"Get a grip, Kagen," he whispered to the empty room, his voice shaking. "He isn't here. None of them are....You're home, your real home."
*****
When sleep finally came, it brought no relief.
In his dreams, Kagen was back in the deep archives beneath the Royal Library of Edrath. The air was thick with the scent of ancient parchment, dried sweet-wood, and cold stone.
Standing at the bottom of the winding stone staircase was Lucien, holding a glowing mana lantern. His silver hair caught the faint blue light of the moons, his deep blue eyes searching the darkness with a desperate, unshakeable resolve.
"I am coming for you, Cassian..." Lucien's voice echoed softly through the dream, rich with unconditional love and devotion. "Across every world... I will find you and we will be together."
Kagen reached out his hand in the dream, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to call out Lucien's name, tried to tell him that he was alive, that he was waiting.
But—
*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!*
Kagen jolted upright in bed, his chest heaving, his body drenched in a cold sweat.
His phone alarm was blaring on his nightstand, broadcasting the 7:00 AM weekday chime. Sunlight peeked through the cheap plastic blinds of his bedroom, illuminating dust motes floating in the air.
Kagen sat frozen under his cotton sheets, his hand still outstretched toward the empty air where Lucien had been standing just seconds before. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, drying cold on his cheeks.
He pulled his hand back, clutching it tightly against his chest where his heart throbbed with a hollow, aching emptiness.
"I can't take this anymore..." Kagen whispered into the morning light, his voice filled with a desperate, unwavering hope. "Please... just find me."
*****