Two Thousand Years

by M. Dalto

  “You.”

  She leaned up with her cup now, her cheeks flushing as she hid behind her glass. “What about me?” she finally asked, trying her best to swallow her next sip without choking.

  “This all suits you, and very well.”

  “What, me sitting in a robe, stuffing my face with food?”

  “Well yes, I suppose that, too,” he mused. “But no, I mean all of this.” He motioned around them. “You being here. This is how it was meant to be for a while now, and I am glad that it has finally come to fruition.”

  He raised his glass to toast.

  She remained still, watching him. “You’ve been waiting for me for some time, but exactly how long?”

  She saw him swallow.

  “You’re referring to what Reylor said.”

  She nodded once.

  “I have known of you for some time, Alex,” he confirmed, his blue eyes still on her. “And Reylor was correct. I was watching you for a year, maybe longer, before I finally decided it was time to deliver you to the Empire.”

  The tone in his voice was enough to let her know he was as uneasy about admitting it as she was actually hearing it, and she took another sip of her wine while she tried to control the thought processes running through her mind. “So, how does this work, anyway?” she asked as she brought her legs up underneath her. “The whole predestined...prophecy...thing. The knowing me—knowing of me.”

  “I supposed you could call it exactly what it is. A prophecy. The Prophecy of Fire and Light.” Treyan took a sip of his wine and leaned back in his chair. “I’m sure you remember that rather large book you came upon in the library?”

  She nodded as she took another sip of wine.

  “That book is better known as the Annals. Within it is our Prophecy, and through its power and magic, that is what told me about you.”

  She perked her brow.

  He smiled slightly. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, you and I have been predestined since the moment we were born.”

  “So you say, time and time again,” she muttered, scowling. “Are you ever going to ask me how I feel about any of it?”

  “How do you feel, then?”

  How did she feel?

  Knowing that her fate was predetermined according to a story like a fairy tale in some book didn't sit well with her. At all.

  She was always one for making her own decisions and following her own path, even if they never seemed to get her very far. Despite that, it wasn’t even the part about a foretold relationship between she and Treyan that seemed to bother her. What straight woman wouldn’t want Prince Charming coming in and sweeping her off of her over-worked feet? Wealth, a palace, a title, a handsome prince who would do anything for them—wasn’t this what everyone who was jealous of Kate Middleton wanted? Not that Alex believed in fairy tales. Even if she was living in one now. Sure, she hadn't had a chance to get to know Treyan, and all but flipped her shit with the insinuation of marrying him. And yet she felt like she’d already known him for years, and perhaps the same was reversed for him, especially if he had known of her for so long already.

  Could that have been the reason why? This prophecy they share?

  Perhaps that was what made her the most uncomfortable. How easy it seemed, being with him.

  She was in a thoughtful daze and didn't hear him stand from his chair or crouch down next to her. The feeling of his hand on her arm broke her from her train of thought, and with a look of concern written across his face, he asked, “Is everything all right?”

  “I don't know,” she admitted, “but I think it's going to be." She tried to give him a reassuring smile, even as a tug continued to pull at the back of her head. Towards thoughts of the banished Lord Steward who also seemed to know of her so well. Who wanted her before she arrived within the Empire.

  What part would Reylor play in any future they had here, should she decide to stay? Would the threat from him haunting her dreams, or worse, continue to plague her? Would Treyan be expected to thwart him every time?

  No, she corrected herself. If anything, she would find a way to reject him herself. There must be something she could do to protect herself from having her mind violated. Especially in a world where dreams seemed to be as easy to travel to as a room with an unlocked door.

  “Good,” he said as he stood. “It could get very tiring having to chase you around the palace on a daily basis whenever you hear something you are not expecting.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You can't blame me for that. You practically proposed to me the same day I met you.”

  “It was not the same day,” he corrected.

  She glared at him. “How long has it been?”

  “A week.”

  She coughed on the sip of wine she just attempted to swallow. “I’ve already been here for a week?”

  Treyan nodded. “A week. It took you longer to recover from the initial Key travel than expected.”

  A week…

  “Shit,” she whispered.

  “As for the dress, I was merely giving you the courtesy of a heads up. You were the one who asked. You were so focused on that dress."

  "It was a nice dress,” she murmured, and her thoughts drifted to the other dream she had. Wearing that dress, being pregnant. She swallowed hard, avoiding the gaze of his bright blue eyes.

  “It was. And it will be yours, when the time comes. But not yet.” He paused as she refilled both glasses from the decanter. “We have much work to do, and I haven’t even begun to properly court you yet.”

  “And what if I don't want to be?”

  He perked his brow and smirked. “You could have fooled me.”

  She knew the blush was returning to her cheeks, but whether it was from the wine or otherwise was getting hard to differentiate. Alex looked at the table before them and caressed the rose in the middle. “I guess this is a pretty good start,” she admitted.

  She always did like roses. It didn’t matter the color—it was one added expense she would always allow herself, even if money was tight. She didn’t need anyone else to buy her flowers, not when she budgeted for a brand-new bouquet for herself every week. So delicate and sweet to smell, their thorns were just as dangerous whether as a singular bloom or with a dozen of its brethren.

  He gave her a knowing smile, and she had to wonder if, in his time where he was watching her, how often he followed her to the flower market as she purchased her weekly bouquet.

  She tried her best not to shudder.

  “And there shall be many more from where this came from,” he assured her even as her thoughts wandered.

  Alex smirked. “Is that a threat?”

  “Consider it more of a promise,” he smiled. “The garden is full of them.”

  Her eyes lit up at that. “You have a rose garden?”

  He nodded, eyes aglow in sharing her delight.

  She tried to reel in her excitement. They sat in silence for a moment while Alex further considered the situation.

  “What about my parents? My friends?” she asked as the worried her lips. “They’re going to wonder where I am, especially if they visit my apartment.”

  “Would you like to write to them?” he offered.

  “And tell them what?” she asked incredulously. “Hi Mom and Dad, don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Just got swept away by a prince from another world. Talk to you soon?”

  He shrugged slightly. “You can write whatever you want.”

  She groaned and held her head in her hands.

  “If it’s any consolation, I fixed your apartment before we left,” he added. “The main door is secure and locked. No one will be able to enter.”

  She blinked. “You magicked my apartment?”

  Another shrug.

  Whether she stayed or not, there were still many questions, and she would be damned if she wasn't going to get them answered. Alex considered herself a realist, and she wasn't going to just accept things without a fight.

  “H
ow did you find me?”

  The intensity of her request seemed to startle him for he coughed on his wine. “Find you?” he parroted.

  She nodded. “How did you find me? How did you know where I lived? And did you even have any idea as to what I looked like? Knowing of me is one thing, but Boston is a large city.”

  “Oh.” He finally sat back down and looked to his cup for a moment. “I suppose, in a certain way, Reylor wasn't incorrect...”

  She closed her eyes at the mention of Reylor’s name.

  “He wouldn’t have hurt you,” he said quickly. “He’s too careful for that.”

  “Careful?” she snapped, her eyes flying open. “He—he definitely seemed like taking care was the furthest from his mind.”

  Treyan furrowed his brows. “It was a dream, Alex. A powerful one, yes, but still a dream. It didn’t really happen—”

  “That doesn’t dismiss the fact that he tried!”

  “And if he ever tries again, he’ll regret every damn moment,” he said with a vehemence that surprised her.

  She believed him. So, she shook her head—she didn’t want to talk about Reylor anymore.

  “Tell me about Boston,” she insisted, though her voice felt smaller that it had been.

  His gaze lingered on her, but he didn’t press the issue. “I suppose you could say you’ve been on my mind since I first learned about the Prophecy.” He scoffed at himself, quickly looking away from her. “That sounds pretty pathetic when I actually say it out loud.”

  “No, it doesn't,” she assured him.

  He looked up at her, a slight smile on his face, almost of gratitude. “You say that now.”

  “No, really, tell me.” She was watching him intently in hopes of him continuing on with his story. “This is what I need to know, right? You want me to understand, so make me understand.”

  His eyes lingered on her a moment longer before he sighed and sat back in his chair. “Alright.”

  She leaned back in her chair, satisfied.

  “So, Boston?” she asked again

  “I didn’t know.”

  Now it was her turn to perk a brow. “Then how did you even begin to find me?”

  “It took five years of research—and a lot of dream analysis—before I figured it out and actually decided to travel to the Otherrealm.”

  “And once you did find me, how did we get back here?”

  “I used the Empress's Key.”

  “You used the…what now?”

  He chuckled. “The Empress's Key. Look at it like a one—way ticket from your realm, the Otherrealm—back to the Empire.”

  “How does that work?”

  “Well, it is called the Empress's Key for a reason.” He smiled. “It will only reopen in the presence of the Empress. So, if I was wrong...” he shrugged. “Lucky for the both of us, I was not, and we were able to leave when we did.”

  Thinking back to that night in her apartment, Alex remembered Treyan's convenient and perfectly-timed arrival. “So, you were following me.”

  “You would have scratched up that beautiful face if I was not, or possibly worse.”

  Their initial meeting in the street hadn't been by chance. Embarrassment washed over her as she remembered the night in question. How long had he been watching her?

  Treyan must have been reading her thoughts. “So, what was your friend's name, anyway? I never did catch it.”

  Now it was her turn to be caught off guard. “What friend?”

  “Blonde hair, big green eyes; she was a small little thing. I felt like I was going to break her while we were dancing.”

  “Do you mean Crystal?” She paused. “Wait, when were you dancing with Crystal?"

  “That same night, while you were celebrating your birthday at Ned Devine's."

  “You were at the bar.” Though she already knew the answer.

  He nodded. “I already told you, I was keeping an eye on you.”

  “By dancing with my best friend?” she scoffed. She wasn't appreciating the knot of jealousy that was forming in the pit of her stomach. “But I didn't even notice you.”

  “No, you didn’t. Nor did you notice Reylor's mage where he sat watching you from the other end of the bar.”

  That stopped her train of thought. “He was there too?” That uneasy feeling at the pit of her stomach moved up to her chest. Being followed by Treyan was one thing—there seemed to be true purpose in his attempts. And he hadn’t tried to assault her, mentally or physically, in any way close to the way Reylor had. Nor had he broken into her apartment in an attempt to kidnap her, though his methods for bringing her to the Empire didn’t seem too far off. He seemed genuine, sincere, and did protect her at the time, and has since. But how long had she been followed, truly? And who else was possibly watching her? How many times had she served one of Reylor's cronies while working at Starbucks? The thought alone sent a chill up her spine.

  Sensing her concern, Treyan tried to ease her mind. “You can’t blame yourself. Nothing in your realm could have possibly prepared you for the likes of them, which is why we're both very lucky I retrieved you when I did.” He smiled again. “Not to mention, you were having such a good time—it was your birthday, after all. Don’t blame yourself for being distracted.”

  “If I didn’t know someone was watching me all night, maybe I was having too good of a time,” she concluded as she furrowed her brows. She didn’t just mean Reylor’s mage. The knowledge that Treyan was there the whole time made her head ache and stomach twist as if she was feeling the hangover all over again. She took another sip of her wine as though to drink the memory away.

  “Alex.” He looked at her, grasping for her attention away from her self-deprecating thoughts. “Even Empresses are allowed to have fun once in a while.” He winked.

  Alex scoffed. “Says the Prince who opted to dance with my best friend instead of me?”

  “Trust me, I would have rather been dancing with you. That dress you were wearing was definitely hard to resist.”

  “Not hard enough, apparently,” she muttered into her wine glass, uncertain from where her jealousy derived.

  “But,” he continued, “the moment we touched you would have known something was going on.”

  She started to say something but stopped. “Why?”

  He shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know.” He thought for a moment before speaking again. “I believe you felt it too, though, that same night. A sense of recognition, akin to nostalgia that you just could not place?”

  Finally hearing it from someone else made her realize she wasn't truly losing her mind. “For the longest time I was trying to place your face, but the memory just wouldn't come.”

  “Most likely because it was a memory we hadn’t made yet.”

  “There you go with that telling-the-future crap again.”

  His smile was sweet, sincere, and she couldn't help but return the warmth.

  They sat there a moment longer in comfortable silence, the candle light flickering off the empty plates and glasses. The wine was helping Alex relax, making it easier to absorb everything she was being told instead of wanting to run away screaming through the palace.

  Maybe this was that something she was looking for but didn’t know existed. Maybe this is why she needed to get away from her parents’ house, the life she grew up living. Perhaps a part of her knew she needed a change, and maybe she was meant for more than making lattes. Maybe her parents had been right after all—just not in the way any of them could have ever dreamed.

  Such thoughts brought her attention back to the prince that sat across from her. “So, what about you?” Her question again broke the silence.

  “What about me?” Treyan asked from his rather relaxed position within his chair.

  “Well, you seem to know everything there is about me, so tell me about you.”

  “Alright, what is it you want to know?”

  “Quid pro quo. Who is your best friend, and when do I get to dance wi
th him?” She smirked.

  He sat silent for a moment, his countenance shifting. “My brother.”

  Alex’s smirk disappeared. “Reylor?”

  He nodded. “He was, anyway. Believe it or not, he wasn’t always the twisted little demon you saw in your dream.”

  She shuddered once again upon mention of the memory of her dream. “Is he…dead?”

  “Dead? As if we could be so lucky. No, unfortunately, within a dream it would never be that easy to kill either of us, which is probably why he chose to attack you in your sleep rather than actually attempt to show his face around here.”

  “Would he?” Alex asked anxiously. “Come back here, I mean.”

  “He can’t.”

  “How can you be so certain?” The farther away he remained, the better.

  Treyan closed his eyes and finished off his wine before placing it back on the table before he stood and walked over to the large balcony window that opened out into the darkness. Alex stayed where she was and watched him, patiently waiting for an answer.

  He looked back at her. “Do you remember when I told you that your dreams were your own, and you were never to tell them to anyone, for any reason?”

  Alex nodded. “And then you made me tell you about my dream.”

  “That was different.”

  “How?”

  “Because I knew the dream you had couldn’t have been a natural one—there was no way it was your own if you’d dreamt specifically of Reylor.” He paused for a moment. “I suppose you could classify it as a precaution. There are some dreams that can be prophetic, or dreams with purpose, such as the ones that led me to you. And then there is dream magic, where dreams are planted for manipulation, much like the one Reylor created in your mind. One lingers on the lighter side, while the other dwindles more towards the darker areas of the psyche. Unfortunately, Reylor didn’t heed that warning as well as you did, and once he had what he believed was a prophetic dream, he decided to dwell on it, seeing it as his destiny, causing him to act rashly, and he chose—” Treyan’s voice trailed off, halting his story.