The bathroom was small and warm, the air thick with heat that clung to the walls. The place looked like it had been put together a long time ago, maybe by someone who did not care about looks as much as simple use. The walls, the floor, even the ceiling were made of dark, rough wood. The lantern hanging from one of the beams gave the room a soft, shaky light. It flickered from time to time like it was getting tired but still trying to do its job. In the middle of the room sat a big barrel full of steaming water that worked as a bath. The scent of wet wood mixed with the herbal smell from the soap Rebecca had left for him.
Lucid sank into the warm water and let out a slow breath. His muscles felt stiff and sore at first, but the heat softened them until the tension started to fade. He let his arms drift beside him and closed his eyes for a moment. The room was very quiet. It was the kind of quiet that felt heavy, like something was missing.
He opened his eyes again.
"Hey, Alice," he said, his voice low.
He waited, his ears tuned for anything. He waited for that familiar little hum of attention she always had when she answered him. But nothing came. No sound, no soft pressure in his thoughts. It felt like reaching out into a dark tunnel that used to have a warm light at the end, only to find it empty.
He looked down at the surface of the water. Little ripples moved across it, but they did nothing to settle the uneasy feeling in his chest. He could not stop the thought that kept repeating itself. 'This is my fault.'
Alice had been there since the moment he arrived in this strange world. She had guided him, taught him how to survive, helped him understand what he was facing. She knew everything about him, every memory he had ever made, every mistake, every fear. And even with all that, she had supported him. She tried to help him grow past the things he struggled with. She always told him he could push through the things that scared him. She encouraged him when he doubted himself. Her voice had been steady and calm through every moment.
Now it was gone.
Lucid leaned forward and rested his elbows on the edge of the barrel. He cupped his hands in a small bucket beside the tub, lifted the water, and poured it slowly over his head. It slid through the strange mist that always covered his face. The veil was still there, shifting gently as he moved, thin enough to see through but still hiding everything beneath it.
He had noticed something odd about it over the last day. Whenever he lifted his hands to eat or scratch at an itch, the mist simply parted. It behaved almost like it was not really there. Only when he stayed still did it settle around his head again. He had no idea what it meant.
Even stranger was how no one in town seemed to care. He had expected stares, questions, maybe even fear. But the people here barely looked twice. Some of them had fur or tails or feathers or other strange parts to their bodies. Maybe a face hidden behind a soft cloud was nothing special in a place like this. But he still thought at least someone should have been curious. Someone should have asked.
When the water finally cooled too much for comfort, he stepped out of the barrel. The air made his skin tighten and his breath come out in small clouds. He reached for the towel Rebecca had left him and dried himself off as best as he could. It was rough and a bit scratchy, but clean.
He moved toward the old mirror hanging on the wall. It was small and tarnished, the kind of thing someone might have forgotten to replace. He stared at the gray mist covering his reflection. It shifted slowly, like smoke suspended in water.
Lucid raised one hand and reached toward the mirror. His fingers passed through the mist in the glass without resistance. Only air greeted his touch. He traced along what he knew was the shape of his cheek, his nose, his jawline. His fingertips moved along familiar lines, until they brushed against the thing he had almost forgotten.
A thin ridge on the side of his face. Hard and smooth like the carved edge of a mirror frame. He felt it again, and a slight chill went down his spine. The last time he tried to remove it, back by the river, he had felt pain so sharp it nearly knocked him out. He still had no idea what it was. Some connection to Alice, maybe. Something she left behind. Or something he had not discovered yet.
He let his hand fall away and stepped back.
He put on the clothes Rebecca had picked for him. A simple linen shirt that felt soft and cool, and sturdy trousers that fit well enough. When he was done, he left the bathroom and headed down the hall.
His room was small but warm. A thick glass window looked over the alley behind the tavern. The bed took up most of the space, with a quilt that felt heavy in a comforting way. The desk beside it had a candle still burning from earlier, the small flame wavering gently.
Rebecca had done so much for him. More than she needed to. More than he deserved.
'Rebecca,' he thought, his chest feeling tight for a moment. 'Thank you.'
He clasped his hands for a moment, then crawled into the bed. The mattress was soft enough to sink into. His body felt tired in a deep way, not just from the day but from everything that had happened since he arrived. He let the quilt settle around him and allowed sleep to take him without a fight.
***
Across town, inside a large mansion with tall columns and glass windows that glowed faintly in the night, a young man sat alone in his study. The room was lined with shelves that held books from floor to ceiling. Some books were so old their covers were almost falling apart. Others were neatly kept and placed with care. Papers covered most of the desk in front of him, spread out as if he had been digging through them for hours.
The young man wore a white shirt tucked into dark trousers that looked as though they had never seen a wrinkle. His dark hair was smooth and cut with precision. His blue eyes stared at the paper in front of him, but he was not really reading it anymore.
The door opened silently, and the butler stepped inside. The older man bowed his head before speaking.
"Young Master, the hour is very late, will you not rest soon"
Karmen looked up. His eyes held a tiredness that did not match his youthful face. He forced a smile.
"I want to, but I have too much to finish," he said. "I promise I will rest once I finish this last set of papers."
The butler frowned with worry. "Your health is important, Young Master. Your well-being affects the household and the town. Please do not forget that."
"I know. I will stop soon," Karmen said.
The butler bowed again and left the room.
Karmen was twenty, but he carried the weight of someone far older. People called him gifted. Strong with a sword, sharp with study, steady in leadership. He was everything a noble family could want from an heir.
His life had been shattered a year ago.
He had returned home, full of hope and ready to show what he had learned at the academy. Instead, he walked into loss after loss. His grandfather passed in his sleep. His father soon after. His uncle, aunt, cousin. Every message sent to him was another piece of his world breaking apart.
Then the worst one came.
His mother was dying.
He had tried to endure all the pain without showing it. He had to be strong for everyone around him. But inside, everything cracked.
He spent a fortune searching for answers. He brought in healers, scholars, people who studied curses, people who studied strange illnesses. None of them could explain what happened. Some said it was fate. Others said it was coincidence. None gave him comfort.
Other families in the region saw his weakness and moved to take advantage. They pretended to offer help, but their suggestions were traps. Offers for partnerships that would drain everything his family had built. He refused every one of them, but the pressure never stopped.
One report finally offered something different. It spoke of Rifts, strange tears in the world that gave people powers or took them away. It suggested there might be a connection, even if the proof was thin.
He clung to that idea. It was the only thread he had left.
Then two days ago, the captain of the guard told him a name.
Lucid.
Karmen repeated the name to himself now. It felt important.
The report about Lucid was short but strange. A man with no past arrived in town. His face hidden by a strange fog. He saved two children from a Rift but was pulled into it. He returned a day later, alive. Hurt, but alive. Most people who entered Rifts did not come back at all. Those who survived awakened strange abilities. Lucid did not. It made no sense.
Karmen thought he might be the key to everything.
A sudden cough shook his whole body. He held a hand to his mouth until it passed. When he looked at his palm, there was blood on it. His chest ached. His strength felt thinner every week. He feared the same thing that took his family was now pulling him in.
His vision blurred. The shelves seemed to tilt. The room distorted. It felt like the world was bending in on him.
He hit his face with an open hand. Pain snapped him back. He forced himself up and walked to the window. The cold air cleared his head a little. The sky outside was full of stars, and the two moons glowed softly.
"Lucid," he said. "I hope to meet you soon."
***
Two days later, Lucid had fallen into a simple routine. The morning sun hung high and warm. The scent of bread drifted from a nearby bakery. Market voices rose and fell like a calm tide. It felt like a peaceful morning meant for taking a slow walk or sitting in the sun.
Lucid sat on the roof of the Golden Shine Tavern, near the chimney. Rebecca had made him a sandwich wrapped in a cloth. He ate it slowly, watching the people in the square below.
The town was full of life. People with animal traits wandered around like it was normal. A woman with a fox tail searched for apples. A man with cat ears argued over cloth prices. Someone with feathered necks carried books. Lucid tried to guess what each one might be mixed with.
'Some of them are obvious. Some are impossible to figure out.'
"Lucid," a voice called.
He looked down to see Rebecca standing in the alley. She was dressed in a nice green dress he had not seen before.
"I am going to the market," she said. "Can you watch the front desk for me"
"Yeah, sure," Lucid said.
He climbed down carefully and landed on the cobblestones. "And thanks for the sandwich," he said.
She blushed slightly and hid it with a smile. "If you do a good job, maybe I will give you a reward later."
He stared at her, unsure what to say. She saved him by turning away with a small wave.
He went inside and took his place at the desk. To pass the time, he read a book from the library. The letters still looked strange, but Alice had left him with enough knowledge to understand it. The book talked about the structure of the world. It was not exciting, but it kept him busy.
Movement near the door made him sit up.
He set the book aside.
A customer.
"Oh, welcome to the Golden Shine. How can I help you" he said.
A man stepped inside. He wore a long black coat, a neat suit beneath it, and a hat. His dark hair was cut short. His pale face was calm. His eyes were deep black, unreadable.
"I will have a glass of rum, please," the man said.
Lucid poured the drink and set it in front of him.
But the man did not touch it.
He rested one hand on the counter and looked at Lucid with a steady gaze. The silence stretched until the man finally spoke again.
"May I ask you a question" he said.
Lucid nodded. "Sure."
The man's voice turned sharp in a quiet way.
"What is the worth of a human life"
Lucid froze. The question felt strange, heavy.
"I do not know. That is a pretty random thing to ask," he said, trying to lighten it.
The man did not blink.
He leaned forward slightly.
"Then let me ask something else," he said. "How much worth is Rebecca's life"