The sky had not yet broken into color when Kael awoke.
The soft hue of dawn crept faintly through the curtains, and the room was quiet—peaceful. The faint scent of flowers lingered in the air; a gentle, sweet fragrance that calmed the ache in his chest.
When he turned his head slightly, he froze.
Elric lay beside him, still asleep.
Her face was serene, softened by the early light. A stray lock of silver-white hair brushed her cheek as she breathed evenly. Their hands were intertwined—her fingers curled around his, firm even in sleep, as though she feared he might vanish if she let go.
Kael stared for a moment, caught between disbelief and warmth. He had grown used to waking up alone—to cold sheets and silent mornings—but this was different.
He could feel her warmth.
He could feel that someone stayed.
The memory of last night flickered—his trembling hands, her voice whispering softly to calm him, her fingers brushing away his tears. That fragile warmth still lingered.
Thanks to that, the nightmares had not returned.
Kael exhaled quietly. He shifted slowly, careful not to wake her. Sitting up, he glanced toward the window where the first light of dawn began to edge through the curtains.
For a moment, he simply sat there in silence, letting his mind wander.
The nightmares of his past life still haunted him—visions of pain, of confinement, of a face that once belonged to another him. But now, the world he lived in was different. New. Confusing, perhaps—but it was his.
And within that confusion, Elric and Robert had stayed by his side. Always there, always whispering encouragement, as if their loyalty alone could steady his trembling heart.
He stood, stretching slightly. His body ached faintly, but it was a good ache—the kind that reminded him he was alive. He put on his shoes quietly and slipped from the room.
-----------------------------------------
The air outside was crisp and cold. Mist coiled low around the garden, glimmering faintly beneath the first rays of dawn. The scent of dew and earth filled his lungs as he jogged down the cobblestone path.
Servants and guards were already at work despite the hour, their movements steady and quiet. As he passed, they paused to bow deeply.
"Good morning, my lord."
"May the morning find you well, Archduke."
Kael nodded silently but said nothing, as always. Their deference felt heavy—he didn't yet know how to carry it.
He followed the path until the mansion gave way to open space, where a wide lake reflected the faint orange of the waking sky. The surface rippled slightly with the wind, scattering the colors like paint on glass.
Kael stopped by the water's edge, catching his breath. Sweat rolled down his neck, cooling quickly in the morning air.
He gazed into his reflection.
The face that stared back was not one he had been born with. The pale skin, the white hair, the faint red in his eyes—they belonged to another man. A man this world called Kael.
Once, he had hated that reflection.
Once, he had thought of it as a prison.
But now—he was learning to live within it.
If he wanted to live as Kael, he needed to understand him.
His memories. His story. His reason for being chosen.
That was the first step.
He closed his eyes, breathing in the morning air.
And then—
A sudden weight crashed into him from behind.
"Got you!!"
Kael stumbled forward, nearly slipping on the damp grass. A laugh rang out behind him—bright, familiar, and far too loud for the hour.
He turned sharply.
Golden hair. Emerald eyes.
The unmistakable smile of someone who carried both madness and affection in equal measure.
"Reinhardt…"
The emperor of the Emestrild Empire grinned at him, his hands gripping Kael's shoulders like they hadn't seen each other in years. "What are you doing out here without Robert or Elric? You look better than last time! Gods, you actually have color on your face again!"
He laughed, shaking Kael's shoulder playfully.
Kael blinked, half in disbelief, half in irritation.
Reinhardt's expression softened as his gaze scanned Kael's face—his eyes tracing the faint signs of recovery. The pallor was gone, replaced by a faint warmth in his skin.
Relief washed over him, so tangible that he laughed again, quietly this time.
Kael, however, did not share his amusement.
His hand moved before he thought.
The punch landed squarely across Reinhardt's jaw.
The sound echoed faintly across the lake.
Reinhardt staggered back, blinking as pain flared across his face. He touched his cheek with a stunned look, then—laughed.
"Damn, you're still strong!" he groaned, half-grinning as he knelt on one knee, clutching his jaw.
Kael just exhaled, his eyes narrowing faintly.
Reinhardt lifted his gaze again, still smiling through the sting. "It's good to see you're in good health, Kael."
Kael's brows furrowed. The way he said it—so casual, so certain—felt strange. Then he remembered.
The letter.
The one he had written weeks ago, urging Reinhardt to visit.
He had forgotten all about it.
Reinhardt noticed the flicker of confusion on Kael's face, and his grin faltered slightly. "Don't tell me…" he muttered, squinting at him. "You forgot that you asked me to come?"
Kael looked away. That was answer enough.
Reinhardt sighed deeply, rubbing his temple. "Unbelievable. I crossed half the empire for this…"
He reached behind him and held out something—
A bouquet.
Fresh blooms, wrapped carefully with silk. Morning dew still clung to the petals. Reinhardt's expression softened again. "I even picked the best flowers in my garden for you."
Kael hesitated. The gesture was simple, but the sincerity behind it was disarming. Slowly, he took the bouquet from Reinhardt's hand. The faint scent of roses and mint lingered.
Reinhardt's grin returned. "Good. Now, sit."
He dropped down beside the lake with his usual ease, gesturing for Kael to do the same. Kael followed, sitting quietly beside him.
The sun had finally broken the horizon, spilling golden light across the rippling water. The world glowed in hues of amber and silver.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to come," Reinhardt said, breaking the silence. "The palace has been… noisy. The ministers never stop talking, and the council keeps finding new reasons to bother me." He exhaled, leaning back on his hands. "I barely have time to breathe these days."
Kael turned to look at him. Reinhardt's tone was tired, but his eyes gleamed with something more—relief.
"Is everything all right here?" Reinhardt asked.
Kael nodded slowly.
"That's good." Reinhardt smiled faintly. "I was worried, you know. That maybe you were still thinking about what happened in Delcra."
His gaze softened. "It seems I didn't need to worry after all."
Kael glanced down at the flowers resting in his lap. His reflection shimmered faintly on the water's surface beside Reinhardt's.
"When I read your letter," Reinhardt continued, "I felt like I could finally breathe again. It meant you were still… there."
Kael turned his head toward him, his expression unreadable.
There was something he had wanted to ask for a while now.
"Reinhardt," he said quietly.
Reinhardt froze. His eyes widened slightly. It was the first time Kael had said his name since his awakening.
"Yes?"
Kael's gaze didn't waver. "Why was I brought to the palace?"
For a heartbeat, Reinhardt didn't answer. The question lingered in the air like the echo of a blade being drawn.
The emperor's smile faltered.
His eyes softened, the playful glint fading into something distant and heavy. "You remember something, don't you?" he said quietly.
Kael said nothing—but his silence was answer enough.
Reinhardt took a deep breath and stood. The wind stirred his golden hair, his expression caught between pride and regret.
"Then," he murmured, extending his hand toward Kael, "it's time I tell you everything I know."
Kael looked at the outstretched hand, hesitant at first. Then he took it. Reinhardt pulled him up gently.
Their eyes met. Reinhardt's smile returned—but it no longer reached his eyes.
"There's someone you have to meet first," he said softly. "Before I can explain anything."
The wind rippled through the lake's surface, scattering their reflections.
Kael's expression was calm, but something deep within him stirred—
A sense that the answers waiting ahead might not be ones he was ready to face.
-----------------------------------------
Kael's eyes widened.
The woman standing in front of him—
Red hair cascading down her shoulders, sapphire-blue eyes sharp yet warm, and that tiny mole beneath her left eye…
He knew her.
And yet—he didn't.
Her presence felt like a memory gagging him from the inside, familiar and foreign all at once. His chest tightened, breath shallow, as though someone had pulled threads from his soul and woven her face into them.
She remained still for a heartbeat, then took one slow step forward—
Kael instantly stepped back.
Elric, Robert, and Reinhardt all paused silently, watching him, their faces tense with quiet concern.
Iris lifted her hands slightly—open, gentle, unthreatening. "I'm… sorry."
Her voice trembled at the edges despite her soft smile. Relief glimmered in her eyes, like she had chased this moment through countless sleepless nights.
Kael's throat tightened.
Elric moved first. She stepped in, her hand brushing Kael's wrist, grounding him. "Kael, don't worry," she murmured, voice steady and warm. "She is a friend."
Her thumb rubbed soothing circles against his skin.
Kael looked again at Iris. That face, that tone, that warmth—
He had seen her before. Not truly, but… in faint flashes. In dreams. In fragments. A silhouette of red hair kneeling over him, hands glowing desperately—her voice pleading "Don't you dare die on me."
But he could not recall her name.
He could not recall her story.
Or why her eyes looked on him like she had lost him once already.
Iris slowly extended her hand, her fingers trembling slightly.
"Kael," she whispered, voice trembling with a hope she tried to suppress.
"My name is Iris. We… used to be best friends."
Her eyes softened. "You saved me. Long before you saved the world."
Kael stared at her outstretched hand.
Then at Elric.
Then Robert.
Then Reinhardt.
His heart pounded painfully. He forced his trembling hand forward. Their fingertips brushed—
And the world snapped.
A violent rush of visions crashed into him.
Blood. Smoke. Screams.
Fields drowned in crimson.
Flames consuming blackened ruins.
And then—
A glowing staff. A wise old mage with silver hair and gentle eyes, smiling kindly while guiding his hand.
A young girl with bright red hair laughing under a massive witch's hat, sparks of magic dancing at her fingertips.
A warmth—friends training, sparring, learning, casting spells in tandem—
And Kael laughing. Laughing with eyes that held the sun.
A life before pain.
The memories collided with the darker ones—the orphanage, the starvation, the beatings, the cold floor, the screams.
His breath hitched.
Kael clutched his head.
His knees shook.
Iris stepped forward instinctively—then froze as Kael suddenly gasped, eyes wide and unfocused.
"Ch… Chesly…?"
The name broke from him like a sound dragged from the depths of his lungs.
All air left the room.
Robert's heart stopped.
Elric's eyes widened in shock.
Reinhardt straightened, his expression unreadable but fierce beneath the surface.
Iris's hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes shone with sudden tears.
"Yes," she whispered, voice shaking.
"Yes, Kael. I'm Iris Chesly."
Her voice cracked—joy and relief spilling through every syllable.
"You remember my father? He taught you magic. He adored you."
Kael's lips parted, but no sound came. The world tilted—hard and merciless.
Elric barely moved fast enough—Kael's legs gave out, his eyes rolling back as sweat coated his skin.
"Kael!"
Elric caught him, lowering him gently before he could fall to the marble floor. His breathing was rapid, his face ashen.
Robert immediately crouched beside him, pressing two fingers to his pulse, the other hand glowing faint emerald with healing magic. He exhaled shakily.
"He's all right. Just fainted. Shock."
Relief washed through the room like warm rain. Yet worry weighed heavy.
They lifted Kael, bringing him back to his bed. His breathing steadied; color returned slowly to his face as Robert finished a healing spell.
Elric brushed sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, her brows knitted with something between fear and fierce protectiveness.
"…This is the first time he remembered something," she murmured quietly, brushing her thumb beneath Kael's eye as if afraid he would disappear. "Not just us. But of… someone else."
Iris's hands trembled, her eyes locked on him with something raw—hope, pain, yearning, guilt.
"Maybe," Reinhardt said quietly, breaking the silence, "it's because both of you were 'cursed children.' He's never reacted like that with me."
Iris wiped her eyes but didn't look away from Kael.
"Maybe. Or maybe it's something deeper."
Her voice softened. "But… he's still here. He's changed, yes. But he's alive."
She turned to Elric suddenly and took her hand, squeezing gently.
"Thank you, Lady Vaelthorn," she said with sincerity that surprised even Reinhardt.
"For staying with him. For protecting him."
Her voice wavered.
"When I failed."
Elric paused—surprised, then softened. She placed her hand atop Iris's in silent acknowledgement.
Reinhardt looked away, jaw clenched, eyes suspiciously bright.
It wasn't often he was quiet.
Robert swallowed, eyes lingering on his sleeping young master with faint trembling relief.
At that moment, all of them—warriors, nobles, mages, kings—were simply people staring at a boy who carried too many worlds inside him.
A boy they had failed.
And a boy they all still chose.