The bed was the softest thing he'd touched in either life.
His attention wasn't on the bed. Two people stood in front of him, crying and calling him their son. The first person he'd met in this world had sprinted down the hallway screaming that the prince was awake, so he was already working with limited information.
"Who are you?"
The woman cried harder and stepped forward, and Kaos pressed back until the wall stopped him. She stopped too, her hand finding the man beside her. He held her with one palm moving in slow circles across her back.
"It's okay, honey. He's been in a coma for five years. He doesn't know anything."
The words did not sit well with him. He'd woken up disoriented, not broken, and there was a difference. His jaw tightened.
The woman pulled back and wiped her face, and when she looked at him again her voice had steadied.
"I know you don't know who we are. But we're your parents."
Kaos looked at them both. He'd already had one set of parents, and he wasn't going to assume anything about these two yet.
"Kaos, please. Just say anything."
They kept calling him Kaos. He didn't hate it — anything was better than the name he'd left behind — and by the time she'd crossed the room and lowered herself to her knees at the edge of his bed, eyes wet but voice steady, he'd decided he didn't want to be the reason she kept crying.
"Hi."
His voice came out smooth and pleasant in a way that surprised him.
Her eyebrows rose and a smile broke across her face. "Hi. Are you okay? Does your body hurt? Is the bed comfortable enough?"
The man rested a hand on her shoulder. "Let the boy speak."
She closed her mouth, eyes still on Kaos.
"I feel fine."
Her smile softened slightly. He'd spent too long keeping people at a distance and it showed in every word out of his mouth, but he needed answers and these two were the only ones who had them.
"You must be hungry," she said, already standing. "You haven't eaten anything in years. I'm going to cook the biggest meal ever."
She was gone before he could respond.
The man waited until her footsteps faded down the hall, then said his name, and something about the quiet and the directness of it made Kaos flinch before he could catch himself. The man's eyebrows rose slightly but he didn't comment.
"I know you don't know us. But your mother is worried about you. We both are." He paused. "You were in a coma for five years. She's just happy you're here."
Kaos had nothing useful to say to that, and the man seemed to understand it, because he turned toward the door.
"I'll give you your space."
"Wait."
The man turned back.
"So my name is Kaos?"
A smile crossed his face. "Yes. Your mother chose it because of your elements. We'll talk more about that later." He pointed to the closet. "Find some clothes and come down to eat. Your maid will be outside waiting for you."
Then he left.
Kaos lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. After a moment he started laughing, not at anything specific, just at the strangeness of being here at all. If anyone was standing outside his door they would've had concerns.
He stopped, one hand touching the horns curving up from his temples. So he was a dragon. In a castle. With a maid and two parents who had been waiting five years for him to open his eyes.
He threw the covers off and stood, and his legs buckled immediately and put him on the floor. Five years in a coma and a body he'd never used. He pushed himself up, and this time something warm moved through him from somewhere in his chest, spreading outward into his limbs until his legs held. Then it faded and left something hollow in its place, not painful but noticeable, like he'd drawn from a well he hadn't known was there.
He stood still and tried to find it again. Nothing. He filed it away and crossed to the closet
The clothes inside were organized by size, and the outfit he picked at random fit perfectly. His parents had been preparing for him to wake up in a human form. Five years and they'd stayed ready.
He stood in front of the mirror and took stock. Brown skin, long red hair down his back, golden eyes, horns curving up from his temples, and a body that looked about five years old.
He sat back on the bed.
Two parents, a dragon body, a maid, and a kingdom somewhere below him. He understood this was a good situation. But Kaos knew how fast things could change and how fast people could turn, and underneath all of it was the one thing he hated admitting even to himself — he didn't want to be alone in this world.
He closed his eyes.
I'm not hoping for anything in this life. I'm taking it.
An hour later he was walking with his maid through hallways wide enough for three of him side by side, the stone floor cold even through his shoes, his footsteps mixing with her breathing and distant voices somewhere deeper in the castle. She'd refused to let him leave alone on the grounds that he might get lost, which was probably reasonable given the circumstances. He'd taken her hand and they'd gone.
She glanced at him every few steps as they walked. When they reached the dining hall the door stretched all the way to the ceiling, and he had to crane his neck to find the top of it.
She tugged his arm gently.
"This is as far as I'm allowed to go."
She bowed slowly, fingers lifting the edge of her skirt, knees bending with the kind of deliberateness that made clear she meant every bit of it. "It was my honor to meet you, my prince."
Then she turned and walked away, and Kaos watched until the hallway took her.
Nobody had ever bowed to him before. Not once, in either life. He stood with that for a moment, then turned back to the door and pushed it open