"You had us worried. We weren't sure if you'd make it."
I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. It felt like my entire body stopped when I stared at my father, no, Lorien's father. My father was hopefully dead, and I really hope I didn't have to see him again.
Even though he wasn't my father, it was still a father. A father that was worried about me. A father that through that question cared for me more than my actual father had done my entire life.
I blinked, momentarily lost for words. He approached and placed a firm hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I hadn't realized just how much I missed that kind of touch. That kind of presence.
"I was starting to worry," he continued, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You've been unconscious for a few days. The girls told me you woke up briefly yesterday, but I had to see for myself."
"I'm… alright now," I replied, my voice quieter than I expected.
He nodded, pulling his hand away with a satisfied nod. "That's all that matters."
We stood there for a while, just watching the sea crash against the rocks. The salty wind tangled my hair, but I didn't mind. I was too focused on the man next to me.
His presence was… comforting. Real. He wasn't perfect—no character ever is—but he cared. I could see it in the way he looked at me, in the way he stayed silent instead of probing me with questions.
For a moment, I just let myself exist in it. Let myself feel what it was like to have a father who cared. A father who waited by my bed when I was hurt. Who smiled when I stood, instead of yelling. Who didn't raise his hand, or his voice.
This wasn't just some scripted moment in a book. This was something I never had.
I remembered my own father—no, not mine. Not anymore. The man whose blood I carried in the old world never once looked at me like this. There was no warmth in his eyes, only disappointment. No concern, only control.
But here I was, in the body of Lorien—a boy who had a real family. A father who cared. Sisters who bickered over him. A castle full of people who probably knew his favorite food, who noticed when he wasn't there.
A life.
A good one.
And I wasn't going to let it go to waste.
As my father excused himself to attend to other duties, I watched him disappear through the tall double doors with their gilded handles and intricate carvings. I lingered on the balcony a little longer, the wind cooling my skin and clearing my head.
"This life… it's not mine," I whispered to the sea, "but maybe it can be."
I turned and stepped back inside.
The castle welcomed me with that same strange blend of sci-fi and Victorian aesthetics. The hallways were tall and grand, lit by hovering crystal orbs that floated gently in the air, casting soft white light across the pale marble floors. The walls were lined with thick wooden paneling and wallpaper the color of cream and dusk, etched with patterns that shimmered faintly like circuitry.
As I walked, my boots clicked against the polished tiles, echoing faintly. I passed portraits of people I didn't recognize—likely ancestors, or dignitaries—painted in rich oil tones but flickering slightly with digital life, their eyes sometimes following me as I walked.
In one hallway, tall windows allowed golden light to pour in, filtered through glass embedded with subtle runes. Outside, I saw turrets topped with silver domes, vines curling around them in organized spirals. Far below, waves crashed against the cliff edge, reminding me just how close this castle sat to the edge of the world.
I wandered through a library so large I had to stop and marvel at it. Rows upon rows of books stretched to the ceiling, interspersed with glass panels displaying glowing holograms and archive codes. Floating ladders moved silently from shelf to shelf. The air smelled of old paper and ozone.
Next, I passed through a grand hallway with long carpeted stairs, flanked by tall android butlers who stood perfectly still, their silver eyes dim but alert. They didn't acknowledge me, but I could feel their gaze tracking my movement.
It was all so surreal.
I was halfway up the staircase when I heard giggling.
"Big bro is wandering again," a voice said from behind me.
I turned to see Blackie, Brownie, and Blondie at the bottom of the stairs. Each one wore a slightly different expression: amusement, exasperation, and mischief.
"Are you getting lost in your own house?" Brownie called up.
"I'm… just exploring," I said awkwardly.
"Lorien never explores," Blondie added, arms crossed. "He usually goes straight to the training hall or the greenhouse."
"Well," I replied with a sheepish smile, "maybe he's finally learning to appreciate architecture."
They exchanged glances and burst into laughter.
"See, I told you he hit his head too hard," Blackie said, nudging the others.
"Maybe it knocked something useful into place," Brownie quipped.
I laughed along with them, even though my heart ached a little. They really cared about Lorien—me. I'd have to do right by them.
"Don't stay out too late!" Blondie called after me as I resumed walking. "Father says dinner's at six!"
"I won't!"
I finally made it back to my room. Or rather, Lorien's room. It was large but cozy. The bed was massive, with silver sheets and a headboard shaped like a pair of wings. Shelves lined the far wall, filled with trinkets and books, some written in languages I didn't recognize.
A few digital panels embedded into the walls hummed softly, displaying updates on weather, castle systems, and even a to-do list titled "Lorien's Week"—I snorted at that. There was something oddly domestic about it all.
I sat on the bed, bounced a little. Soft but sturdy. I could definitely nap here.
For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the gentle hum of the sea outside the window. The ceiling had a mural painted across it—stars swirling around a central sun, framed by geometric lines like constellations and circuits.
This place was peaceful.
It was mine now.
"I'll be Lorien," I whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it more real. "I'll protect this house. This family. Everything he had… everything I never did. I won't let it go to waste."
I closed my eyes.
Maybe just a few minutes of sleep. Just a short rest before dinner.
But right as I started drifting off—
"LORIEN!"
A loud, feminine voice shattered the quiet.
I sat up with a jolt, heart pounding.
"What now…" I muttered, scrambling off the bed.
Looks like peace would have to wait.