Cedric sat amidst the quiet of his study, the soft glow of candlelight casting long shadows across the room. His eyes, usually so sharp and determined, were now clouded with confusion. The walls of his private quarters felt constrictive, like the weight of the world was pressing down on him. But it wasn't just the weight of the crown, or the muddled politics of his kingdom, that weighed upon his mind. No, there was something else-something far more elusive, something he could not shake no matter how hard he tried.
Leona.
Her name whispered in his mind, haunted him, though he had not seen her for what seemed like an eternity. It was as if a part of him-some deep, almost primal part-knew she was still here, that she was near. Yet the more he reached for that feeling, the more it slipped through his fingers like sand.
His nights had become plagued by dreams, fragments of images that did not make any sense but were so vivid, so real, that it was hard to ignore. The dreams were always the same, always full of her. Leona's face, her eyes, her voice-everything was ingrained in his mind, like some submerged memory he had lost somewhere but could never quite forget. Every time he woke up, he felt a chilling void, as if he had been deprived of something important.
They had begun innocently enough: small, fleeting glimpses-a vision of her standing far away, a shadow at the edge of his sight. But more and more, they turned urgent, straightforward. He would sense her presence even in wakefulness. As if the membrane between their worlds had weakened, and she was reaching out to him from some other place, beyond his grasp.
Tonight, it was no different. He had just finished his evening duties, the formalities of ruling a kingdom weighing heavily on him, when the dreams began to pull at him again. His eyes fluttered shut, and within moments, he was no longer in the study but standing in a dark, empty void. The air was thick with an otherworldly tension, and there, standing before him, was Leona.
She was so real, so tangible, he could almost reach out and touch her. It was a feeling of familiarity and foreignness, a part of him that had been torn away and now was suddenly back in the most unexpected way. Her expression was unreadable, as though she was waiting for him to say something, to do something.
But he couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He could only watch as she stood there, her gaze fixed on him, her features soft and distant.
"Cedric." Her voice was barely a whisper, a faint echo that seemed to come from all directions at once. "You have to remember."
The words hit him as if it were a physical strike, sending shock waves running across his chest. Remember? What was she asking him to remember? What could he possibly have forgotten?
"I. I don't understand," he replied, his voice shaking despite efforts to keep it even.
Leona stepped forward, her eyes with an emotion that Cedric couldn't quite place, between sadness and hope. "You have always known," she said softly, her voice breaking the silence like a fragile thread. "You've always known who I am. Who we are."
And with that, she stirred something in him, the flicker of recognition, which he couldn't get a hold of. It was a shadow of memory, elusive, intangible, dancing out of reach. He could feel it, the feeling one gets when he knows he's at the threshold of a revelation, but he just can't quite connect the dots.
Leona's hand came out, wavering in mid-air between them as if the distance between their bodies was much greater. "I'm still here, Cedric," she whispered, with suppressed desperation. "Even though you can't see me, I'm still here with you. You have to find a way to remember."
But before he could say anything, the whole world around Cedric had begun to dissolve. The nothingness shattered like glass as he stepped forward, its pieces falling to pieces beneath him, and Leona's image was reduced to nothing. He reached out toward her, his heart beating wildly, but she was gone in the void.
He woke up with a gasp, his body drenched in sweat, his heart pounding within his chest. A moment later, he was in dis-orientedness as some dream fog glued to him. In his head, he could hear the echo of her voice all that while, soft, but insisting, You have to remember.
Cedric sat up and ran a hand through his tangled hair, as if it would shake the ghost of her presence from him. It was no use. The dream had marked his soul with a feeling he couldn't quite recall-a feeling that burrowed in him, gnawing its way from the inside. It was as if something of him-a part lost long ago-called to him in longing for him to listen.
What was it she had said? You've always known who I am.
Cedric stood, pacing the room in agitation. What did that mean? He had always known who she was? That didn't make sense. He had met Leona as a maid, a lowly servant with no remarkable qualities, no significance to the grand scheme of his life. And yet, why did this memory of her, the face, the voice seem so in woven within him? Why did it seem like there was something more between them, beyond what this story he had been a part of had allowed?
A soft knock at the door broke into his reverie.
"Cedric?" A familiar voice called, and Cedric turned to see Vivienne standing in the doorway, her expression filled with concern. "Is everything all right? I heard you wake up suddenly."
Cedric took a deep breath, trying to push the disorienting feelings from his mind. "I'm fine," he said, though his voice lacked conviction. "Just a strange dream."
Vivienne stepped into the room, her gaze studying him carefully. "A dream? You've been having those a lot lately, haven't you?"
Cedric frowned, surprised by how well she seemed to understand. He hadn't shared the details of the dreams with anyone—not even Vivienne—but she had always been perceptive.
"I suppose so," he admitted, though he couldn't explain it. How could he tell her the dreams felt like more than just dreams? That they felt like memories, like fragments of something he had forgotten? How to explain the deep, aching pull he felt in his chest whenever he woke from them?
Vivienne sat beside him, her presence a steadiness of comfort, but to Cedric, space separated them. "Cedric," she said in a soft tone, placing her hand on his. "You're not the only one who's been feeling off lately. There's something wrong. Something we can't explain."
Cedric turned to her, an edge of his brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Vivienne hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "The kingdom is fine. You're fine. But somehow, it feels like it's missing something. There is a piece of us that we cannot quite catch. Something we are supposed to remember, but we simply can't."
Cedric's heart skipped a beat. The words she spoke mirrored his own confusion, the same sensation of loss that had plagued him since the dreams began. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, a strange sensation washed over him.
It was subtle at first—a flicker at the edge of his perception, a glimpse of something that didn't belong. Then it sharpened, became clear. The presence of something-or someone-that had once been part of his life. His body froze; his breath caught in his throat as he recognized it.
Leona.
She had been here, or at least her essence, just beyond his grasp. The sense of connection between them-thin, fragile-wasn't to be denied.
He turned to Vivienne, words he'd meant to speak out loud choked in his throat. "Vivienne." he whispered low. "I think I. I think I need to find her."
Vivienne's eyes were wide with surprise, but she said nothing. Instead, she nodded, her hand giving his a reassuring squeeze. "Then go," she said softly. "Find the answers you need."
And in that moment, Cedric knew. He had been searching for the truth for so long, and now it was calling out to him. Leona wasn't just a dream, a forgotten memory. She was the key to everything, and he would find her-no matter the cost.