Present Day

It was 9 AM, and Perry already wanted the day to be over. 

"Welcome to Lucky Fries. Can I take your order?"

The customer, a middle-aged man wearing what looked like a borrowed suit, barely glanced up from his phone. "Yeah, give me the number three combo, extra large. And make it quick."

Perry entered the order into the system without saying anything, his fingers moving mechanically across the touchscreen. Three years of working at Lucky Fries had stripped away any trace of enthusiasm from his voice or attitude. The forced cheerfulness that his manager used to insist on had turned into a flat, efficient monotone.

And he wasn't even allowed to use his phone when he was manning the register. 

"That'll be twelve forty-seven," Perry said. He expected one day for a customer to outrage at the ridiculously expensive "food" - how could cardboard artificially flavored to taste like meat cost that much? - but today wasn't the day. 

The man thrust a credit card at him, still focused on whatever fascinating thing flickered on his screen. Perry processed the payment, put together the order, and handed over the bag, all without the customer looking up once. He didn't mind. It was better than the ones who did try to interact with him. 

Or worse, wanted to switch out ingredients and customize their orders as if they were at some gourmet restaurant. 

The next customer stepped up to the counter, and Perry had to blink twice to make sure he wasn't hallucinating from exhaustion. She was an older woman, but carried herself with lightness and grace, her silver hair elegantly styled and her clothes hinting at old money. The generational type of old money, the one that could probably be traced back to her great-great-great-whatever. Basically, not your typical Lucky Fries client. But it was her eyes that caught his attention – they seemed to shift color as she moved, like oil on water.

"Peregrine," she said, and something in her voice pulled on his attention like a hook. "What a curious name. Does it carry any special meaning?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His name tag only said 'Perry.' How did she know his full name? 

He swallowed and forced his detached tone. "Can I help you?"

"Oh yes." She smiled, her eerily smooth face barely crinkling with the movement. And for a moment, her teeth seemed too sharp to be natural. Perry blinked, and the illusion was gone. "But the question is, are you ready to help yourself? Or, more importantly, help others?"

Perry stared at her, his surprise momentarily forgotten. Was this woman on something? Should he call his manager? Or an ambulance?

"I... what?" His voice sounded just as confused as he felt. A cold prickle ran down his spine, and his fingers twitched involuntarily. He glanced around, searching for some kind of reassurance, but none of his coworkers seemed to notice anything strange about the woman. In fact, now that he'd stopped to pay attention, no one seemed to notice her at all. 

He wanted her gone, and the fastest way to do that was to get her what she wanted. "Would you like to order something?"

She leaned forward slightly. "Tell me, Peregrine, do you dream?"

Perry's insides felt like an invisible hand was tugging them down. Of all the questions he expected her to ask, that wasn't it by a long shot. The insane thought that she knew about his dreams tickled the back of his mind, but that was impossible. Ridiculous. 

His training told him he should answer her, but his gut told him to keep quiet. Funny that his instinct sounded like his last foster dad. 

"When you don't know something, keep your damn mouth shut."

Her strange eyes glittered, and she leaned a bit more forward, his silence encouraging her to carry the conversation without any help from Perry. "Dreams of an open field and tall grass surrounding you, perhaps? Of a soft voice, whispering to you in the wind?" Her strange eyes brightened with an even stranger glow. "Have you seen the one in yellow yet?"

The half-formed, strange dreams that had been plaguing him for weeks flashed through his mind, and his pitiful breakfast curdled in his stomach. A cloudy gray sky, a chill that came from inside him. Soft grass that brushed against his arms like thin fingers reaching for him, pulling, pulling. And in the far-off distance, the roar of an ocean that sounded like the world breaking in half. 

How could she know about his dreams? How could this strange woman possibly know? He'd never told anyone. Not that he really had anyone to tell, but still. 

It wasn't possible, it just wasn't. This had to be some kind of trick or prank, or... or... something. He didn't care what it was, it didn't matter. 

"Listen, lady. I only work here. I'd be more than happy to take your order so we can both move on with our day. Everything else…" He trailed off, having no idea how to finish that sentence. 

His heart raced, and his palms got clammy as her smile grew. "Trying to get rid of me so soon?" She tsked softly. "And to think of all the trouble I went to find you. I will admit, they hid you well. But the inevitable is consequential, so here I am. Your consequence. And you and I, my dear Peregrine, have a long journey ahead of us."

His throat went dry as her words spun around his mind. He took a step back from the register, his sneakers squeaking against the floor. 

"Look, lady, either order something or—"

"I'd say my goodbyes if I were you. I'll be waiting for you on the other side. But don't take too long, my dear. My patience has already been tested enough," she said softly, the hint of a threat hidden between her words, and turned away before he could respond.

Perry watched her glide out of the restaurant, his hands shaking slightly. He didn't even know where to start processing what had just happened. 

When the next customer walked up to him to place an order, Perry raised both hands and backed away from the register.

"I need a break," he announced to no one in particular, already heading for the bathroom. He needed to splash some water on his face, clear his head. Think.

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as he pushed through the door. The bathroom was thankfully empty. He went to the sink and turned on the cold water, letting it run over his fingers before cupping his hands. The shock of the cold water against his face helped ground him a bit. 

A strange woman with fancy contacts and too much Botox, that's all that had been. Perry had seen worse. One time, his first customer of the day had been a guy in a full clown getup wearing a plastic crown and a pink sash that read 'Linda's Bachelorette Party'. But the clown, who clearly looked like he'd had a busy night if his tilted red wig and smeared makeup were anything to go by, had ordered a double burger and the largest coffee they served and quietly eaten his meal and sucked down his caffeine in silence in one of the corner booths. Perry had never had to serve anyone as strange as that woman. 

Maybe she was one of those fake psychics who went around taking advantage of people, promising to contact their lost loved ones. That's all it had been, nothing more. 

She'd probably discovered his name from one of his old social media accounts that he hadn't updated in months. Whoever said social media was a great way to connect to people who shared similar interests had lied. 

Back when he was a naive teenager, he'd tried to make friends online. Joined communities, groups, and talked to people he shared interests with. His experiences had been enough to make one thing abundantly clear: no one cared about his opinions or about what he liked. Or about what he had to say. People only ever cared about themselves. 

No one cared about him, period. 

The eighteen years in foster care had more than drilled that into his head. It's not that he'd been a problematic child or rebellious teen. He didn't have any deep-rooted traumas from having been abandoned as a baby. For him, that was just life. And maybe that was the problem.

Because the truth of the matter was that Perry was a wholly unremarkable human being. 

He didn't have big dreams or aspirations, no great passions he wanted to pursue and spin into some kind of career. Some days, he felt as if he was barely a fully formed person. 

Perry sighed. "Stupid brain, thinking stupid thoughts."

He splashed more cold water on his face and glanced up at the mirror, expecting to see his boring brown eyes and boring, short brown hair staring back at him. He-

The surface was moving.

Perry stumbled back, blinking hard, but the mirror's surface continued to swirl like it was liquid and not solid. The fluorescent light flickered and almost seemed to bend toward it, creating strange patterns that hurt his eyes to look at. He should leave. He should definitely leave. Right now!

Except he heard the distant roar of the ocean, and wind gliding through something, creating a soft rustling sound. Grass. That was the sound of wind sweeping through tall blades of grass. 

So instead of running away screaming, he found himself stepping closer.

The swirling intensified, and now he could see... something... through the liquid metallic surface. Colors he had no names for, impossible geometries that stabbed at his brain with their sharp edges. His hand moved on its own, reaching out to touch the mirror's surface.

It passed straight through.

Before he could pull back, he felt something grab him – not physically, but like a tug that sank deep into the very essence of him – and pull him. The bathroom disappeared in a swirl of impossible colors as he was yanked forward into the void.

The "woman" stood in the alley behind Lucky Fries, watching the ripples of power emanate from the building. When they subsided, she exhaled heavily.

"Finally," she murmured to herself. "The lost son returns and the bargain is fulfilled in letter, if not in spirit."

All of those years she had waited. Decades and eons. All that time only to be crossed by a misguided girl with her pitiful grandiose aspirations. 

She thought of the Queen's deceit and her trick to try and cross Fate. Not that Fate ever complained about humans and their frivolous games. Even if the damned creature was a stickler for the rules. But now everything had been put to right, and the circle was finally complete. The lost prince would return home. 

Something, a feeling, she hadn't felt in ages, bubbled up to the surface. Excitement. Anticipation.

She stared up at the sky and could almost make out the flicker of dead stars past the pale blue veil. "Soon, my love. I will see you soon."