A sun blazing above a parched wasteland. A pitch-black dragon. A knight in shining armor, his sword aglow.

And fire searing through his veins, erupting beneath his feet to form a beautifully intricate diagram.

Such a strange dream, even by Theo's usual standards. They normally didn't last so long or have anything resembling coherent plotlines. They were more like brief snatches of sensation, leaving behind only a strange, aching sense of nostalgia....

He did ache now, but not in his heart. Instead, a painful pressure throbbed in his skull and every muscle felt tender and sore, like he'd just gotten off a double period of dodgeball in gym class.

Better to fall back asleep then, no matter what weird dreams might come. But something seemed...off. The blanket felt heavier and scratchier than he was used to, while an unfamiliar scent tinged the air. Spicy and a little sweet, like incense.

Which set his nerves jangling. This isn't right. Using all his effort, Theo forced his eyelids open. A dim blur greeted his vision. A few hard blinks, and he began making out shapes. A low, sloping ceiling. A small chandelier hanging above, its glass crystals cracked and glow flickering.

All right. This definitely wasn't his room. Fighting his stiff muscles every step of the way, Theo sat upright. The blanket slid down from his chest - a heavy comforter in burgundy and gold brocade. No wonder it'd felt so scratchy.

It looked like he was in an attic room, barely large enough to fit the bed and two shelves crammed full of old books. The peeling leather on their spines and faded gilt lettering made it clear that they had been well-loved. It was a cozy, peaceful kind of place, and Theo might have appreciated it if he'd had the slightest damn clue where he was.

He had to get up. But the prospect of climbing off the bed seemed distant, almost impossible. Still, Theo lifted his trembling hands and tried to peel the comforter off. Take it step by step....

The door swung open with a loud creak. Theo froze. Quick, hide, run - but he couldn't do anything before a man ducked through the entrance.

When the man straightened, the room seemed to shrink in half. Not just because of his impressive height, but his distinguished presence. Dressed in a stiffly ironed tailcoat and pinstriped trousers, he looked like a butler straight out of a storybook.

The man - the butler? - dipped into a bow. "Greetings, young master. It's good to see you are awake. I hope you found your rest satisfactory."

He even spoke with a British accent, of all things. With his lined face and graying hair, he didn't look terribly threatening, but the fact remained Theo had no idea who he was. 

Theo cleared his throat, tried to speak, but nothing came out. His mouth felt alarmingly dry.

The butler nodded and adjusted his monocle. His eyes seemed to glow in the dim room, a vivid, cat-like green. "I imagine you must be feeling quite overwhelmed, young master. If you'd like to rest further, I shan't impose. But if you're up to it, I invite you to join my lady and her associates for some tea and refreshments. Lavender chamomile, excellent for soothing the nerves."

"I...uh...." Theo's voice came out a croak. He had no idea what he wanted to say, but it didn't matter, because his stomach chose that moment to unleash a tremendous growl.

Up until then, he hadn't realized how hungry he was. Now it felt like an entire big band orchestra was playing inside his belly with a lot more enthusiasm than talent.

"Very good." The butler nodded crisply, though his smile was kind. "Refreshment it is, then."

~*~

Theo managed to get out of bed on his own, but he needed the butler's help to walk. The butler held him steady without complaint, his gnarled hands surprisingly strong, and step by step they made their way down the narrow staircase beyond the door.

Even with the butler's help Theo's muscles cried in protest, but he refused to let it show. The staircase opened into a hallway, just as cramped, paneled in dark wood and dimly lit by wall sconces.

"Where...where is this?" Theo couldn't help but ask.

"We are in Lady Meg's house," the butler said. "You will meet her soon enough, young master."

"My name's Theo," Theo mumbled.

The butler nodded. "Young master Theo, then. Ah, here we are."

He opened a door and they emerged into a brighter room, making Theo blink. When his vision cleared, his heart flipped upside down.

It was a parlor, small and cozy like the rest of the house, and several people sat at a round table in the middle of the room. The one directly across Theo was a boy with short black hair and deep blue eyes.

If it weren't for the butler's grip, Theo would have collapsed to the floor.

It wasn't a dream. The wasteland, the knight, the dragon, the black-haired boy with the rapier.

Unless...maybe...Theo was still dreaming? No, this had to be real. His grumbling stomach made sure of it.

"Well, come on in.” The boy set down his teacup with a gentle clink. "Cat got your tongue?"

The woman next to him chuckled. She was as tall as he was small, her hair falling in auburn waves to her shoulders. Theo had seen her before too, summoning diagrams of scarlet light.

And...the third person at the table. When Theo's eyes landed on him, warmth sparked in his chest. Which confused him, because he didn’t recognize this person, a boy with glasses and long blond hair tied in a neat ponytail.

Until the boy met his gaze. The eyes behind his glasses were a clear, crystal blue.

"Sir Zenith?" Theo blurted. No way. But he couldn't mistake those eyes anywhere, even if the knight wasn't wearing his fancy armor. If it weren't for his long hair, he could've been a preppy student from the local university, dressed in a striped oxford shirt buttoned all the way to the collar.

The black-haired boy was a little fancier in a silk poet shirt, but nowhere as extravagant as his fantasy RPG getup when they'd battled the dragon. So maybe that part had been a dream? But why would Theo dream about these random strangers, and what was he doing at their house?

"Yes." Sir Zenith nodded. "And you are my wizard."

"Wi-wizard?" Right, they'd talked about that back at the wasteland, the "arena." Wizards and familiars.

"Now, now," the butler said gently. "I think it's best you have a seat, young master Theo, and get something warm in your stomach."

"Theo?" The black-haired boy tilted his head.

"Yeah, that's my name," Theo stammered as the butler led him to an empty chair. "Theo Hua."

"Good to meet you, Theo. I'm Darian," the boy said.

"The rightful Prince of Miria Fortress," Zenith piped up, his voice thin.

"Uh...what?"

"Not now." Darian threw Zenith a glance. "Wait until after he's eaten before we dive into the explanations."

"By your will, my liege." Zenith lowered his head.

No, I want to know now - but his stomach's growls drowned out the rest of his thoughts. And they only get louder when a warm, salty scent tickled his nose, wafting from a covered bowl on the table. If he'd been feeling better, Theo would have made a beeline for it.

The moment the butler helped him into the seat, Theo took off the lid and attacked the rich, savory soup in great gulps, too hungry to care about his manners. The others didn't seem to mind; the woman leaned back and curved her scarlet lips into a smile. "Delicious, isn't it? Lodo's chicken and rice soup, old family recipe. By the way, I'm Meg Ruby and this is my familiar Lodovico."

That word again, familiar. But Theo was too busy downing the soup to ask about it. As soon as his spoon clanged into the empty bowl, Lodovico poured him a cup of heavenly-smelling tea.

Just one sip dissolved the aches knotting his muscles. He sat back, feeling more alive than he had since waking up here.

Time to find out what was going on.