The river smelled of autumn leaves, iron, and the faint sweetness of the distant farmlands. It moved lazily under the stone bridge, like a great creature waking slow from sleep—glimmering silver where the light touched, darker where the shadows gathered.
The city around them hummed with its usual music: vendors calling out, children running past with unsteady laughter, carts clattering on cobblestone, the occasional bark of a dog. Everything was ordinary. Everything was peaceful. The world felt deceptively gentle.
Kael leaned against the railing of the bridge, both palms flat on the cool stone, feeling the grain of weathered years under his fingertips. His head still felt light. His vision occasionally blurred at the edges, but he didn't tell anyone. He didn't want Finn or Zara to worry again.
Zara stood to his left, chewing on a sugar candy she bought earlier. Finn stood to his right, wind tossing his hair as he stared at the water with the casual confidence of someone who had grown into himself.
"Seven years, Kael," Finn murmured, voice soft. "I still can't believe you're here, standing next to me."
Kael gave him a faint smile. "I'm still trying to believe it myself."
Finn laughed once—short, breathy, warm. "You know… you scared us all. And by 'scared,' I mean you turned half the city into emotional corpses."
"Finn," Zara hissed, elbowing him.
"What?" Finn shrugged. "He asked why I look older. That's why."
Kael let out a quiet exhale that almost resembled a laugh. "You look like someone who hasn't slept enough in seven years."
"Exactly," Finn replied. "Diplomat work. Father drags me everywhere—council halls, negotiation chambers, paperwork mountains. You name it, I've stamped it."
Kael blinked. "You're working as his assistant now?"
"Not just assistant." Finn straightened proudly. "More like… unofficial right hand. I help him connect with ministers, solve disputes, write policies. It's exhausting, but… strangely meaningful."
Zara grinned. "He's lying. He likes bossing people around."
Finn gasped dramatically. "I prefer the term 'efficiently guiding.'"
Kael's smile warmed. Watching his friend glow with purpose stirred something inside him—a tiny pinch of envy mixed with admiration. Finn had moved forward. Grew. Became someone. Zara too. Even Alisha. Everyone except him.
"Maybe I should find a job too," Kael murmured, eyes drifting to the river. "Or… help Rowan with the export and import business. Something to get my life started again."
Finn studied him quietly. "You've barely been awake for two days. Don't force your mind to sprint when your body's still learning to walk again."
"I'm fine," Kael lied.
Finn didn't buy it; his frown said everything.
"Kael," he said gently, "you lost seven years. That doesn't make you late. It just means you're starting from a different place."
Kael wanted to accept that. Wanted to believe it. But deep inside, a knot of restlessness spread like a bruise.
Seven years. Seven years of stillness. Seven years stolen.
"How do I catch up?" Kael whispered before he could swallow the words.
Zara leaned her shoulder against his arm, warm and steady. "You don't have to rush. You're not running a race."
"No," Kael replied, staring at the water again. "But it feels like the world ran far ahead of me… and I'm still standing at the starting line."
Finn sighed softly and bumped his shoulder against Kael's. "Then walk at your pace. We'll walk with you."
The sincerity made Kael look away, blinking rapidly as if the sunlight had suddenly hit too hard.
For a while, the three of them stood in quiet. The river flowed. A breeze swept across the water, carrying the scent of wet stone and distant flowers. A flock of birds crossed the sky, their shadows sweeping over the bridge like drifting ghosts.
Kael breathed in. Out. The world felt both heavy and fragile.
"So," Finn said suddenly, forcing cheer into his voice, "once you get better, you can help manage Rowan's business. I bet he'd be thrilled. You're smart, Kael. You always were."
Kael shrugged lightly. "Maybe. I'm not sure what I'm good at anymore."
"You'll find it," Zara assured. "You always figure things out."
Kael felt a mix of warmth and quiet fear. "Do I? I'm not the same person I was."
"No one is," Finn replied. "Not even me."
Kael turned his head. "You sound like an old philosopher."
Finn smirked. "Working with politicians ruins innocence."
Kael chuckled under his breath. His headache throbbed lightly, but he ignored it.
The moment felt almost peaceful.
Almost.
Until something strange tugged at the corner of his vision.
A flicker.
A shimmer.
A sudden brightness—like sunlight hitting metal, except no metal was nearby. A reflection? A glint? A flash? It burst across the edge of the river surface behind him, bright enough that instinct forced him to turn.
But it wasn't sunlight.
It was too sharp.
Too controlled.
Too deliberate.
His breath stilled.
The bright reflection appeared again—this time like a pulse of white light, rippling across the stone railing behind him. His heart stuttered once, cold shadows creeping across his spine.
"Kael?" Zara followed his gaze. "What is it?"
He didn't answer.
Because the reflection wasn't coming from the sky.
It wasn't coming from water.
It was coming from… him.
From behind him.
From something—or someone—standing there.
The air suddenly felt too thin. The sounds of the city muffled, like wrapped in cotton. Even Finn noticed Kael's posture tightening.
"Hey," Finn said, stepping closer. "What's wrong? Did you feel dizzy?"
Kael's hand rose slowly, fingers trembling despite his effort to steady them. "There. Behind us. Don't you see the light?"
Zara and Finn exchanged a quick look.
Finn frowned. "There's nothing there. Just the road."
Zara peered over the railing and back. "Kael, are you—"
Before she could finish, the light flashed again—violent, blinding, a sharp spike of radiance that pierced Kael's vision.
His breath hitched.
The same type of light—
The same… shape…
The same eerie sensation…
He had seen it once.
Seven years ago.
In the chamber.
In the moment between consciousness and collapse.
In the moment before everything went dark.
His pulse hammered. His knees threatened to buckle.
"Kael?" Finn grabbed his arm. "Talk to me. What do you see?"
Kael's voice broke into a whisper. "The light… it's the same. It's… the same as that day."
Zara's face drained of color. "What day?"
Kael swallowed hard. His throat burned. "When they took me. When they tortured me. When everything… broke."
Suddenly, his chest tightened painfully. Breath coming shallow, uneven. A trembling panic clawed up his spine.
Not again.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
Finn tightened his grip. "Kael. Listen. Breathe. The past can't touch you now."
But Kael couldn't hear him.
The light pulsed again, stronger than before.
And this time—
A faint outline appeared within the brightness.
A silhouette.
Humanoid.
Watching.
His heart lurched into his throat.
"Someone's there," Kael whispered. "Someone is—"
"No one is there!" Finn's voice rose in fear. "Kael, look at me!"
But Kael stepped back, eyes locked on the ghost-bright figure on the empty path.
His voice trembled. "Why… why am I seeing this again?"
Zara grabbed his sleeve with both hands. "Brother, please—don't look!"
The light flickered, dimmed, and then—vanished. Just like that. Like it had only been a trick of the mind.
Except Kael knew tricks. He lived through tricks.
This was no trick.
His heartbeat raged in his ears, drowning out everything.
"Kael," Finn said softly, "you're shaking."
Kael stared at his hands. They trembled uncontrollably.
"I'm not imagining it," he whispered. "I know what I saw. The same light… the same feeling… the same—presence. It was real."
Finn exchanged a grave look with Zara.
Zara's eyes brimmed with worry. "Kael… you're still healing. Trauma doesn't disappear when you wake up."
Kael closed his eyes tight, chest rising unevenly. "What if it wasn't trauma? What if it's something else?"
He opened his eyes again, staring at the empty road where the silhouette had been.
"What if the past isn't done with me?"
The river flowed on below them, calm and unaware—mocking the storm inside him.