Kaelen groaned as he stirred, the dull throb of a hangover pulsing behind his eyes. The faint light filtering through the curtains of his sparse quarters did little to ease the pounding in his head. He blinked a few times, trying to piece together the events of the previous night.

A low grunt came from the other side of the room. Lyrian was sprawled awkwardly on a chair, his long legs hanging over the armrest. His head lolled back, and an empty bottle lay precariously close to slipping from his grip. His usually neat bun had come undone, leaving his longer hair a disheveled mess, strands sticking out in every direction.

“Damn it, Lyrian,” Kaelen muttered, rubbing his temples. “I told you not to mix those drinks.”

Lyrian stirred, a sluggish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You say that like it was my fault. I distinctly remember you egging me on. Something about not letting me back out of a challenge?"

Kaelen rolled his eyes, slowly sitting up. His quarters, normally neat and organized, were now littered with half-empty glasses, random items of clothing, and a chair that had somehow ended up tipped over near the door. "Yeah, well, now we’re both paying for it."

Lyrian groaned, shifting in the chair as he stretched. "Good times, though. Haven’t had a proper night out like that in a while."

“Right. Proper.”

Kaelen reached for the glass of water on the nearby desk, but when he lifted it, he frowned. It was empty. He sighed, slumping back against the headboard before looking over at Lyrian. “I need some water.”

Lyrian didn’t even glance up from what he was doing. “Then get some. Your legs still work, don’t they?”

Kaelen gave him a dry look. “Jackass.”

Lyrian smirked but didn’t move. “You know where the kitchen is. It is your house, after all.”

Kaelen shot him a glare as he pushed himself up. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely,” Lyrian said, leaning back with a grin. “It’s the little things.”

Kaelen grumbled under his breath, making his way to the kitchen and filling his glass. As he took a long drink, he called out, “You know, for a guest, you’re pretty useless.”

Lyrian’s laugh echoed through the room. “That’s what friends are for.”

Returning to his spot, Kaelen downed the rest of the water in one go, slumping back against the headboard. He glanced at the small clock on the desk, realizing it was later than he’d thought. “At least we didn’t get arrested.”

Lyrian chuckled, his voice hoarse. "Small victories, my friend."

The silence that followed was only interrupted by the sound of Lyrian awkwardly rolling off the chair and landing on the floor with a thud.

"Smooth," Kaelen remarked, not bothering to look up.

Lyrian groaned, lifting himself up with exaggerated effort. "I’m starting to think these hangovers are hitting harder than they used to."

"That’s what happens when you’re not sixteen anymore," Kaelen said, half-smirking.

Lyrian shot him a playful glare. "Oh, shut up. We’re both twenty, remember? You’re just as old as me."

Kaelen’s smirk widened as he watched Lyrian stumble to his feet, swaying slightly. "Age has nothing to do with it. It’s all about knowing your limits."

"Right, because you are the epitome of self-restraint," Lyrian quipped, rubbing his temples. "I distinctly remember someone convincing me that we needed to order that last round of shots."

Kaelen shrugged, leaning back against the headboard. "Well, you did need it. You were getting all philosophical and brooding again. It was either shots or letting you talk my ear off about the meaning of life for another hour."

Lyrian rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the grin creeping across his face. "Okay, okay, you’ve got a point."

As Lyrian shuffled around the room, looking for something that resembled coffee, his gaze fell on Kaelen’s desk. Amidst the clutter of maps, notes, and scraps of paper was a small, worn journal, its leather cover cracked and faded with age. Lyrian’s hand brushed against it as he fumbled for a cup, and he glanced at it curiously.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"You still keep this thing around?"

Kaelen’s eyes flickered to the journal, his expression tightening for a split second before he relaxed. "Old habit. But no, I don’t take it with me anymore. Too dangerous."

Lyrian flipped it open, skimming a few of the pages. "Never pegged you for the sentimental type."

Kaelen gave a half-shrug, his tone more guarded. "Sentiment’s not why I keep it. Just a reminder of choices. Paths I didn’t take."

Lyrian raised an eyebrow but decided not to push further. He set the journal back down, a smirk dancing on his lips. "I guess we’re both full of surprises, huh?"

Before Kaelen could respond, a knock sounded at the door, sharp and unexpected. He exchanged a glance with Lyrian before getting up and walking toward the door, still groggy from the night before.

As he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of a woman—tall, voluptuous, with skin like smooth mahogany and eyes as dark as the night. Intricate tattoos snaked across her arms and neck, disappearing beneath the collar of her black leather jacket. Silver piercings glinted on her brow and nose, catching the dim light. Her lips curved into a knowing smile.

"Kaelen," she purred, leaning against the doorframe with an easy confidence. "It’s been too long."

Kaelen blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Rhea. I wasn’t expecting—"

Lyrian, ever the opportunist, leaned over from his spot, eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity. "Well, well, who do we have here?"

Kaelen sighed, already sensing where this was going. "Lyrian, this is Rhea. Rhea, this is my friend—"

"His best friend," Lyrian interjected, standing up and extending his hand toward her. "Lyrian. Charmed, I’m sure."

Rhea’s smile widened, her eyes flickering between Kaelen and Lyrian as she took his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Lyrian."

Lyrian grinned, shaking her hand with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Likewise. So, how do you know our dear Kaelen?"

Kaelen shot Lyrian a warning look, but Rhea was already one step ahead. "Oh, Kaelen and I go way back. We’ve had... a few interesting encounters."

"Interesting, huh?" Lyrian said, his grin widening as he leaned casually against the door frame. "I bet."

Kaelen cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Rhea, what brings you by?"

The woman chuckled, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she straightened. "I was just passing through the city. Thought I’d stop by and say hello." She glanced at Lyrian, her tone playful. "Didn’t realize you had company."

Lyrian gave an exaggerated sigh. "Yeah, sorry to ruin the moment. I’ll just stand over here and mind my own business."

Kaelen rolled his eyes. "Don’t mind him. He’s always like this."

Rhea chuckled again, her smile softening. "Well, I won’t keep you. Just wanted to check in. It’s good to see you, Kaelen."

"Good to see you too, Rhea," Kaelen replied, his tone sincere.

As she turned to leave, Lyrian couldn’t resist calling after her. "Don’t be a stranger, now! Come by anytime. I’m sure Kaelen would love the company."

Kaelen closed the door, turning slowly to face Lyrian, who was grinning like a cat that had caught the canary.

"So," Lyrian began, his voice dripping with faux innocence, "care to explain who that was?"

Kaelen sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She’s just an old acquaintance."

"Uh-huh," Lyrian said, raising an eyebrow. "An old acquaintance who just happens to stop by and flirt with you first thing in the morning? Sure, Kaelen. Sure."

"Drop it."

Lyrian grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Oh, I’m not dropping this. Spill the details. When did you two—"

"It’s not like that," Kaelen interrupted, though his tone was starting to edge toward exasperation.

"Right. And I’m the King of Aether. Come on, man, you can’t just leave me hanging with a bombshell like that."

Kaelen shot him a warning glare, but Lyrian was undeterred. "Okay, okay, fine. But for the record, you have the worst taste in women. Seriously, what’s with you and the mysterious, dangerous types? You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days."

Kaelen’s lips twitched upward. "At least I’m keeping things interesting."

Lyrian laughed, shaking his head. "You sure are, my friend. You sure are."

He glanced around the room, eyes scanning the area before turning to Kaelen. “Alright, where’s the coffee?”

Kaelen raised an eyebrow, leaning back casually. “Don’t have any.”

Lyrian froze, his grin faltering. “Wait. No coffee? You mean to tell me, in this entire place, there’s no coffee?”

Kaelen smirked, enjoying the moment. “What can I say? I live dangerously.”

Lyrian sighed dramatically, slumping back into his seat. “This explains so much. No wonder you’re such a grumpy bastard half the time.”

Kaelen chuckled. “Maybe, but at least I don’t need caffeine to function. Unlike some people.”

“Careful, or I’ll find a way to smuggle some into your next mission. See how dangerous you feel then.”

Just as the banter lingered in the air, another knock echoed through the room. Lyrian’s smirk returned instantly as he stood, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “Rhea again? She must’ve really enjoyed my company,” he joked, already halfway to the door.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kaelen muttered, shaking his head.

Lyrian swung the door open with a grin, expecting the familiar figure. Instead, he froze just before a fist connected squarely with his face.

The impact sent him stumbling backward, crashing into the wall with a grunt of pain. “What the—”

Before he could finish, a group of figures stormed in—broad, armored bodies dressed in tactical gear, their faces hidden behind dark visors. They moved with silent precision, filling the room in seconds.

Kaelen shot to his feet, but his reaction was met by two of the intruders moving in swiftly, weapons ready. Lyrian groaned, wiping the blood from his nose, eyes flashing with rage.

The lead figure stepped forward, gun aimed directly at Kaelen. “Don’t try anything,” a voice growled from beneath the helmet.

Kaelen's mind raced, assessing the situation in an instant. He exchanged a glance with Lyrian, both of them knowing what was coming next.