After parting ways with Vaelorian, Riven skipped joyfully into the lively, bustling dining hall. The place is teeming with hundreds of kids—laughter echoing off the walls, chatter bouncing everywhere, and the aroma of delicious food filling the air.
Kids were everywhere—eating, chatting, groping each other under the table with mischievous grins, and even using their gifts to roast marshmallows? Wait—that's actually a sick idea! Riven thought, chuckling to himself.
Riven secretly wished he had flames as his gift. Just imagine—sitting there, casually roasting marshmallows with a flick of his fingers. Imagine all the fun he would have burning things up! Now that would be so fucking cool!
"Are you going to get anything, Young Lord?"
An older petite woman with a warm voice asked from the other end of the food area smiling kindly. Riven blinked, realizing he'd been standing there, mouth slightly agape, like a fish out of water, just staring at the chaos around him.
"Oh, yes! Sorry!" he exclaimed, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Riven hurriedly grabbed a tray and plates, practically fumbling with the utensils—typical nervousness in full swing. The buffet stretched endlessly, a lot of every imaginable dish—meats, breads, fruits, desserts. It was no wonder; with hundreds of kids with wildly different tastes and needs, the spread had to be versatile. Riven loaded his plate high—after all, this pale, scrawny body needs to bulk up fast, like yesterday! Finding an empty table, he sat down just as a voice cut through his thoughts—bright and playful.
"Hey there, cutie!"
Riven jolted, startled, nearly knocking his tray over. "Ugh, why does everyone keep sneaking up on me?" he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.
He looked up to see a girl with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin.
"Hey, um...you are?" he asked, trying to recall if they'd ever met.
"I'm Anya! I've seen you around," she chirped cheerfully, her voice light and warm. Riven's eyes widened slightly—why hadn't he noticed her before? She was beautiful, with an infectious smile.
"Okay...and?" he drew out, a bit awkwardly, hoping she wasn't some kind of stalker. Please, don't let her be crazy, he prayed inwardly.
Anya giggled, tilting her head. "And nothing silly! I just think you're really cute and wanted to say hi." she said sweetly, making Riven blink in surprise.
Huh? Him cute? If this had been his old body—sure, even then he'd prefer to be called hot—but now? With this pale, scrawny frame and those pouty lips? Someone actually thinks he's cute? Well, point one for the underdog!
"So… I heard you're from one of the great houses," Anya continued, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.
Riven hesitated. He almost blurted out, "That's what I heard too," but caught himself. Instead, he simply nodded. "Yes, I am."
"Cool! What's that like?" she asked eagerly.
He scratched the back of his head, feeling a little uncomfortable.
"Ahh…well, it's nothing exciting, really. Honestly, thinking about it bores me. I'd much rather hear about you. Tell me everything—about where you're from, your life, your dreams." He turned the conversation away from himself, grateful when she happily launched into her own stories.
Thank goodness! Riven sighed inwardly. How could he tell her about his house? He knows next to nothing about the place. This life—this entire world—didn't come with a manual. Camp was the first place Riven had opened his eyes, the only place he knows. He was practically a newborn at the moment, with no real knowledge of the world he'd been thrust into.
He desperately wished he had a smartphone, some internet connection—anything to help him understand this strange, gadget-less universe. Imagine his surprise when he realized they hadn't invented smartphones or discovered social media platforms here yet! Nope—just typewriters, fax machines, and copy machines. Everything about their tech was so…1990s. Ugh!
Riven smiled, nodding along as Anya kept talking about herself, though his mind was elsewhere, pondering the strange new reality around him.
Meanwhile, back in the private dining chamber reserved exclusively for Vaelorian and his selected attendants, Vaelorian was hunched over a stack of papers, his brow furrowed in deep thought. The room was quiet except for the rustling of papers and the faint hum of the fireplace.
"Your Highness, you should really eat now, please!" a tender, motherly-like voice cooed softly.
Vaelorian glanced up, eyes tired but alert.
"Elara, get me something stronger to drink. I have no appetite for food," he said briefly, his tone clipped.
Elara hesitated, concern flickering across her face. "But, my Prince…"
"Please," Vaelorian cut her off, voice firm but weary. She sighed, recognizing the look in his eyes—the kind that meant he was battling something unseen. She knew better than to push.
Something was troubling the prince. Elara thought, Should she have let him read those papers before dinner?
As a prince, Vaelorian was always surrounded by attendants—people to cater to his every need. Yet, he disliked unnecessary fuss, which made Sir Eryndor, his loyal right-hand man with the teleportation gift, invaluable. Eryndor could appear at a moment's notice, whenever Vaelorian summoned him. And, now that Vaelorian has decided to share a room with Riven, his caretakers are more concerned. They believed he needed extra attention, but Vaelorian didn't want a crowd. That's why this secluded area of the camp was specially arranged—so he could have his space, his quiet, and still be attended to, especially by Elara, who was always fussing over his hair, his meals, and everything in between. Vaelorian was almost certain she'd give him a bath if he let her.
Vaelorian's reading was interrupted when Elara held up a bottle of wine in front of him, her gentle voice soft but determined.
"Here you go, Your Highness…but, you have to promise me you'll finish your dinner afterward."
Vaelorian rolled his eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Very well, Elara. I promise, I'll eat my dinner. You have my word!" he said, his tone resigned but calm.
Elara beamed with relief, pouring him a glass of wine, her worry lingering beneath her smile.
While it looked like the night would stretch long and heavy for Vaelorian, Riven was utterly immersed in his own little adventure—laughing, chatting with his new friend. For Riven, he doesn't care that he is now in a new world, because his curiosity knows no bounds and the possibilities here are endless! Honestly? He's loving every minute of it!