In the months that followed, meditation became Vaelorian's daily obsession, a ritual shared with his children. Each night, as the stars blinked into existence, they would settle into a circle of calm, only the gentle rustle of leaves outside providing a soft rhythm to their quiet reflections. Every day, Vaelorian sought a way to delve deeper into their shared consciousness, hoping to uncover the enigma behind the haunting vision of his husband that danced in his thoughts like an elusive specter.
"I'm going to bring you home," he would murmur to himself, the words a daily mantra. The visions were far more than simple dreams; it felt like clues. Like Riven was desperately trying to point him towards the right direction. Over the months, he gathered fragments—fleeting images, sudden memory flashes, and whispers from the ether—painting a picture that grew more complex with each passing night.
As time flowed, he began to share his theories with his trusted companions. They saw the logic in his madness, recognizing the urgency behind his obsession. Inspired by his determination, the team joined him in observing the children, looking for clues in the patterns of their innocent slumber, eager to piece together the celestial puzzle.
One quiet evening, following a hearty dinner filled with laughter, both Aaliyah-Lavelle and her brother suddenly fell ill. Their lips quivering, brows furrowed in pain as fever tied them down, faces flushed with a heat so intense it seemed to vibrate. It was unexpected and a mysterious ailment that even Anya, their ever-composed healer, struggled to explain.
"I'll prepare some herbs that may help them sleep it off," she assured Vaelorian, her brow knitted in concern as she hurried toward her storeroom, her footsteps echoing the frantic beating of Vaelorian's heart.
As the children slept fitfully, Vaelorian sat beside them, a silent sentinel against the encroaching shadows. But as darkness deepened, the nightmares returned—insidious and relentless. Yet something felt different this time; the children's usual fear was absent, replaced by an overwhelming determination to pull something out. They thrashed in their beds, their small hands grasping at the air as if striving to reach out for something or someone just beyond the veil.
Grappling with the intensity of the moment, Vaelorian laid them side by side. "This could work," he whispered, his heart racing against his ribs. Closing his eyes, he forced his consciousness into the storm of their dreams, desperate to fight alongside them against the specters of the dark.
In a swirl of vibrant colors and chaotic scenes, Vaelorian found himself within the same battleground his children occupied. There were echoes of laughter and glimpses of familiar faces, and then—Riven. He was trapped within a cage of shimmering, malevolent shadows. Together, the three of them struck out; a united front of love and strength. With one final surge of will, the cage shattered.
All at once, they jolted awake with a collective gasp. The room was crowded with their team, disbelief etched across everyone's face. The fever had vanished as swiftly as it had arrived, leaving behind a chilling, crystalline clarity.
"Your Majesty… look," Barron whispered, his voice trembling as he pointed to the floor.
Vaelorian's gaze dropped to the floor, and his heart seized. There, lying on the rug, was none other than his husband.
"Riven…" The name was a ghost of a sound.
Still frozen in place, Vaelorian took in the sight of his husband. He looked exactly as he did the day he was taken, dressed in the heavy battle attire he had worn nearly seven years ago. But Riven's expression was one of profound confusion, his eyes darting around the room, trying to reconcile his memory of a nursery of their unborn children with the transformed, lived-in chambers that surrounded him now.
"Err....what am I doing here? Where is the general? Did we win the war?" Riven's voice cut through the air, deeper than Vaelorian remembered, yet tinged with a terrified undertone.
The room remained deathly silent for a moment. The "General" Riven was looking for had been dead for four years. The "war" had ended nearly a decade ago.
Riven looked at Vaelorian, expecting to see the young man he had left just "hours" ago. He didn't understand why Vaelorian looked older, or why his eyes were so full of pain.
Vaelorian couldn't move. He couldn't even breathe. He just stared at the man he had buried in his heart years ago.
"Papa?" a small voice whispered.
Aaliyah-Lavelle climbed out of her bed. Her little feet made soft thump-thump sounds on the rug. She walked up to this dusty, armored stranger with big, curious eyes. Riven froze. He didn't know who this child was, but his body seemed to recognize her. His eyes locked onto hers.
"I know you," Riven said softly. His voice sounded like he was talking in his sleep.
Aaliyah-Lavelle didn't run away. She giggled—a sweet, happy sound that broke the tension in the room. She jumped into his lap and hugged his neck, her small hands catching on the cold metal of his armor.
"Of course you know me, silly Papa!" she said. "I'm your daughter. And I have a brother, too! Don't you remember?"
Riven's face changed. The confusion turned into a look of pure, heartbreaking realization. He felt the warmth of her small body. He looked at her dark hair, so much like his own. Then he looked at Adonis, who was standing by the bed, looking just like a mini-version of Vaelorian.
"Liyah...?" Riven whispered.
He pulled her into a tight hug, his hands shaking. He looked up at Vaelorian, his eyes filling with tears as the truth started to sink in. He hadn't just been away for a few hours. He had been gone for a long time and he had missed a lot.
"Hi, Papa!" Aaliyah-Lavelle beamed, her small arms tightening around his neck, anchoring him to this new reality.
Riven's face crumpled completely. Any doubt he had about the moment being a bad dream vanished, replaced by the sheer, crushing weight of the truth. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth of her small body, then he ran his hand through her dark hair, which gave him a serious sense of deja vú. Then he looked at the other child again.
Tears brimmed in Riven's eyes, as he tried reconciling this new reality. The room was pulsating with the raw electricity of the moment. Vaelorian, finally regaining the use of his legs, stepped closer to embrace them both.
"You're really here…" Vaelorian whispered, relief crashing over him like a tide.
Riven pulled the girl into a tight, shaking hug, his hands trembling as he looked up at Vaelorian. The tears falling like water works: he had broken his promise to Vaelorian and his children.