The early light filtered in through silk curtains, brushing gently across the polished marble floors of the master bedroom. The warmth was subtle but deep, casting golden ribbons across the edge of the bed where Kai stirred, his bare shoulder peeking out from beneath the soft silver blankets.
Lucien was still asleep behind him, arms draped loosely around Kai's waist, chest pressed to his back, breathing steady and warm. Kai didn't want to move—not yet. There was something sacred in this stillness, something that felt like safety, like home. His fingers curled over Lucien's hand where it rested just above his stomach. For the first time in weeks, his heartbeat didn't feel wild or afraid. No whispers in his mind. No flare of burning magic beneath his skin. Just quiet. Just Lucien.
Kai tilted his head back slightly, brushing against the soft line of Lucien's jaw. "You awake?" A low hum rumbled from Lucien's chest. "Was pretending not to be." Kai smiled. "That doesn't work anymore." Lucien opened one eye, lazily. "Should've known better. You always see right through me."
Kai shifted to face him, nose almost touching his. Their legs tangled easily beneath the sheets, like they were made to fit that way. Lucien's hand reached up to brush Kai's cheek, thumb tracing under his eye. "You look... softer today," Lucien murmured. "Peaceful."
Kai let his fingers trail down Lucien's arm. "I feel... settled. But something's moving. I don't know what yet."
Lucien pressed a soft kiss to his temple. "We'll face it together. Always."
Downstairs, the warmth of domestic life settled like a charm over the home. In the open kitchen, Rhydian was leaning against the counter, flipping through a book while eggs sizzled in the pan. His hair was slightly damp, shirt undone at the throat, sleeves rolled to the elbows.
Kai padded in barefoot, his robe loose around his frame. "You're cooking again. Should I be scared?" Rhydian didn't look up. "You liked the last thing I made." "You nearly poisoned Lucien." "Lucien eats like a spoiled noble. His opinion doesn't count." Kai grinned, stealing a piece of toasted bread from the counter. "You're impossible."
Lucien entered just then, still tugging his shirt over his head. His presence filled the space like sunlight—easy, warm, a little chaotic.
Kai turned toward him as Lucien pressed a kiss to his neck. "Good morning, troublemaker." Rhydian cleared his throat. "Can we not do this while I'm flipping eggs?" Lucien smirked. "Jealous?" "No," Rhydian muttered. "Annoyed."
They sat together at the wide marble island—Kai between them—eating breakfast, teasing each other, arguing over who would do dishes. Rhydian ended up doing them anyway, muttering curses in a forgotten language while Lucien smirked behind his coffee.
The peace didn't last long.
Later that afternoon, while the others napped or read quietly in the drawing room, Kai returned to the library. It had become his haven—rows of floating shelves, stained-glass lamps that shifted colors depending on your mood, ancient tomes that whispered when opened. He was drawn, almost magnetically, to one of the upper alcoves. There, behind a glass panel, sat a slim silver-bound grimoire—sealed with a magical clasp shaped like a crescent moon. He recognized the symbol. Esmera had once drawn it into his palm.
The lock clicked open as soon as his fingers touched it. That should've been the first warning. He opened the book, breath catching. The pages shimmered like starlight, ink glowing with old runes he couldn't read—but somehow understood. A catalyst... born from flame and forgotten blood. He shall awaken what sleeps. He shall open what was never meant to be touched. He is the door.
The words blazed in his vision. And then—light exploded outward, wind rushing through the shelves, tearing loose parchment and old petals. The room shuddered with ancient magic, not cruel, but wild. Kai staggered back.
Rhydian and Lucien burst through the doors, both glowing faintly from wards reacting to danger. Lucien reached Kai in two steps. "What happened?! Are you hurt?!" Kai held up the grimoire with shaking hands. "It just... opened. I didn't mean to—" Rhydian's expression had gone grim. "I know that sigil."
"You do?"
He nodded, eyes fixed on the glowing runes. "It's the mark of the Sleeping Forge. The last time it was seen, the world nearly split in half."
That night, the three of them sat before the fireplace in the study. The grimoire rested, now quiet, between them.
Lucien rubbed a hand down his face. "So Kai's not just rare. He's... a key?" "More than that," Rhydian said. "He's a living beacon. His soul doesn't just hold magic—it attracts what was buried. Locked. Forgotten." Kai's voice was quiet. "So all of this... the Watchers, the forest waking, even the dreamscapes... it's me?" Lucien reached for his hand. "It's not your fault."
"But it's my responsibility." They sat in silence for a while. Then Lucien said softly, "I need to be honest." Kai looked up. "I've been scared. Scared that I'll fail you again. That I'm not enough to protect you from what's coming." Kai's breath caught. "Lucien—"
"I pushed too fast. I wanted us to have a normal life, and I ignored what you were really feeling. What you are. I'm sorry." Kai cupped his face, voice trembling. "You are everything that's right. Don't you see that?" Lucien leaned into the touch, eyes closing. "I see you. That's what matters."
Their lips met, slow and deep, the fire crackling behind them. It wasn't lust, not tonight. It was a promise, unspoken but eternal.
Outside, on the upper balcony overlooking the city, Rhydian stood alone. The wind pulled at his coat, the wards glowing faintly around the perimeter of the estate. He took out a small journal—leather-bound, ancient. Third pulse of arcane memory in less than two weeks. The boy's magic is shifting again. The seals are weakening.
He paused, jaw tight.
"They'll come for him soon," he said aloud. "And I'll burn the world if they try."
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It was just past midnight.
Kai padded barefoot down the corridor, craving water. The house was silent, save for the soft hum of protective spells. As he passed the old gallery—lined with magical mirrors—one shimmered strangely.
He paused.
The glass rippled.
Then it changed.
Not his reflection—but fire. A forest burning. Trees screaming in magical agony. A figure emerging from the flames—tall, cloaked, with eyes that blinked over every part of its body. Its mouth didn't move, but he heard it:
"Kai." He stepped back. "Kai," it whispered again. "Doorway. Catalyst. Flame." And then—darkness. The mirror cracked. He stood frozen in the hall, the broken mirror humming with soft smoke.
Lucien appeared seconds later, half-dressed, power pulsing through his veins. "What happened?!" Kai turned slowly, voice hollow. "It saw me." Lucien held him tightly, shielding his body, eyes locking onto the mirror.
Rhydian was next, silent, ready.
None of them slept that night.