Chapter 44: The Family Found in the Dark
Lucien had always assumed that family was a relatively straightforward concept.
You were born.
People looked at you and collectively agreed that your continued survival was now a shared responsibility.
It was an elegant system.
Unfortunately, like every other aspect of his existence, reality had once again chosen unnecessary complications.
He stood in the small house beyond the final door while the First Dream cried quietly beneath the touch of two beings older than existence itself.
Tomorrow.
The First Dream.
The being that had once been alone before stars.
Was crying because its parents had found it.
Lucien had decided he no longer understood anything.
"This seems excessive."
"No," Orion said from somewhere behind him. "This is actually one of the more reasonable things to happen this week."
Lucien chose not to question how Orion had entered a place beyond existence.
He had long since accepted that the old immortal operated according to entirely separate laws of reality.
"You knew about this?"
"No."
"Then why are you here?"
"I smelled tea."
Fair.
The two figures in the doorway remained impossible to perceive directly. Every time Lucien attempted to focus on them, his mind quietly gave up and elected to contemplate less complicated concepts.
Like infinity.
Or taxes.
The taller of the two gently wiped Tomorrow's tears.
"You've gotten so big."
Tomorrow stared at them in disbelief.
"I am older than existence."
"And?"
Silence.
The being opened and closed their mouth several times.
"I don't know how to respond to that."
"You never did."
The second figure laughed softly.
"When he was little, he'd become quiet whenever he was embarrassed."
Lucien slowly turned toward Tomorrow.
"Interesting."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Lucien pointed.
"You are being parented."
The First Dream—an entity that had existed before time—looked genuinely mortified.
"This feels deeply unfair."
"Welcome to the family," the child on the bed said helpfully.
The room fell silent.
Family.
The word lingered in the air.
Dangerous.
Lucien was becoming increasingly convinced that words possessed entirely too much power.
The shorter figure finally looked toward him.
"Hello again, Lucien."
There was something unbearable about the warmth in their voice.
"You remember me."
"Of course."
"I don't."
"We know."
"Stop saying that."
Soft laughter answered him.
"You've said that every time."
Naturally.
Lucien was beginning to suspect that all significant moments in his existence followed approximately the same script.
"This is the thirty-ninth time, isn't it?"
The room went quiet.
Tomorrow looked toward him in surprise.
"You remember that?"
"No."
"Then how—"
"It seemed statistically probable."
Orion coughed loudly.
"He's lying."
"I am not."
"You are."
Lucien chose to ignore him.
The taller figure smiled.
"Thirty-nine times."
Silence.
"And every single time, the first question you ask us is the same."
Lucien immediately disliked where this was going.
"What question?"
The two figures exchanged an amused glance.
Then, in perfect unison:
«"Are you lonely too?"»
The world stopped.
A memory surfaced.
A garden beyond existence.
A much younger Lucien staring suspiciously at two impossibly ancient beings.
"Tomorrow was lonely."
"Yes."
"And Sol was lonely."
"Yes."
"And Astrael."
"Yes."
Silence.
"Are all old things lonely?"
The memory ended.
"Oh."
"There it is."
Lucien ignored everyone.
"I asked that."
"Every time."
"Why?"
The shorter figure's smile softened.
"Because you've never liked the idea of someone being alone."
Dangerous.
Everything always came back to that.
Lucien looked around the room.
Tomorrow.
Astrael.
The child who remembered every goodbye.
The Architects.
The dragons.
And now, somehow, the family of the First Dream.
His life had become alarmingly crowded.
"I think I understand now."
Silence fell immediately.
That was apparently the wrong thing to say.
"What?"
Tomorrow's voice was unusually quiet.
"You've never said that before."
Lucien frowned.
"I haven't?"
"No."
The lantern beside the window brightened.
The stars beyond existence began to move once more.
"In every other life, you stop here."
Interesting.
"What do you mean?"
The taller figure gently rested a hand upon Tomorrow's shoulder.
"This is where you turn around."
Silence.
Lucien felt something cold settle into his chest.
"Why?"
No one answered immediately.
Eventually, Astrael did.
"Because if you keep remembering..."
The child's voice grew softer.
"...you'll remember why you built the final door."
There it was again.
The thing everyone kept avoiding.
The one memory hidden at the center of everything.
Lucien looked toward the wooden door leading deeper into the house.
He had not noticed it before.
Of course there was another door.
There was always another door.
"I dislike that."
"We know."
"Stop saying that."
"No."
Fair.
The shorter figure smiled gently.
"Behind that door is the only memory you've never willingly opened."
Lucien remained silent.
"And if I do?"
The room grew impossibly quiet.
Tomorrow looked away.
The child beneath the blanket lowered his gaze.
Even Orion stopped smiling.
Finally, the taller figure answered.
"If you open it, Lucien..."
Their voice carried a sadness older than stars.
"...you'll remember why the universe cried when you died for the first time."
The lantern flickered.
The second door slowly creaked open by a single inch.
And from somewhere beyond it, Lucien heard the sound of a child laughing.
His own laughter.
Followed immediately by the sound of something breaking.