Pajama Pandemonium

(Tower of Magic, Valeraine, 805 A.D.)

High above the kingdom of Valeraine, the Tower of Magic glimmered under a starry night. Inside, two men—Prince Prince Lucien and Damiel—were hunched over a cluttered table, their faces lit by the flickering glow of enchanted runes.

Prince Lucien held up what was supposed to be a picture-capturing device. It looked like a tiny, ornate drawing board with intricate runes etched into its surface. "Look, Damiel! This should take our pictures, just like I-seo did when we first met."

Damiel eyed the device skeptically. "It looks more like a magical sketchpad. Let's see if it works."

Prince Lucien waved his hand over the device and chanted a spell. A soft light emanated from the runes, and a faint image began to form. Instead of their own faces, the device projected a blurry medieval banquet scene.

"Uh, that's not us," Prince Lucien said, scratching his head and trying to suppress a smile.

Damiel tapped the runes thoughtfully. "Maybe we need to adjust the spell. Let's try capturing just one image first."

He adjusted the runes and chanted another incantation. This time, the device flashed brightly and showed an image of Prince Prince Lucien and Damiel—but their heads were oversized, and their bodies wobbled like stick figures.

Prince Lucien couldn't help but laugh. "Great, now we look like giant heads on sticks."

Damiel chuckled, trying to steady the device. "Maybe we should start with something simpler, like a still drawing, not a moving picture."

Prince Lucien sighed, placing the malfunctioning device on the cluttered table. "Our magic still needs some work. Let's move on to the next item."

Next, Damiel attempted to recreate a shopping basket. He chanted a spell, and the basket shimmered for a moment before collapsing into splintered wood. "Maybe we need a stronger spell," he suggested, scratching his head.

Prince Lucien laughed as he picked up the shaky drawing of the elephant pajamas. "These elephants look more like goats."

Damiel couldn't hold back his laughter. "I can't get the pattern right. Our magic isn't capturing the details."

They set their magical tools aside with a sigh. Prince Lucien rubbed the back of his neck, remembering the small grocery store aisles in Korea.

Prince Lucien glanced at an old-looking hourglass on the shelf. "Damiel, have you noticed something strange? In our world, the day I last saw in Korea was the 5th day of December, but when we arrived here, it's already been a week passed,"

Damiel raised an eyebrow, adjusting his robes. "You mean time moves differently between our worlds? That could explain why our experiments aren't working."

Prince Lucien nodded thoughtfully. "Exactly. We might need to change our spells to match the time difference. Maybe what feels like a day here is making our magic act up."

Damiel chuckled. "No wonder our gadgets keep failing. Our magic has been working overtime for a week, just to keep up with one day with them in Korea."

Prince Lucien leaned back, a smile playing on his lips as he recalled their time in Korea. "I still remember how Sena got so annoyed when we had to duck to go through doorways. My head almost hit a sign every time."

Damiel smirked. "And remember when I joked that everyone's heads looked like baby heads from our view? Sena was about to lose it when I-seo scolded me. But she was always there, helping us avoid bumping into things."

Prince Lucien laughed softly. "She was so chill—like we were annoying neighbors, but she still cared. Kept us warm, cooked our meals, took us shopping even though we caused chaos. Even put up with me wearing her grandfather's elephant pants."

Damiel's eyes shone with fondness. "And her friend, I-seo—she had the freest laugh I've ever heard. No formalities, no polite gestures like the ladies at court. She just… said whatever she wanted and laughed like everyone was listening. It was amazing."

Prince Lucien sighed, leaning against a table full of their failed attempts at making modern items. "Still, wherever we go, the entrances are always too small for us. How did the builders expect people like us to fit through doorways without hitting our heads?"

Damiel laughed, almost knocking over a stack of small barrels. "I remember the first time we went to the grocery store. Every entrance was like a trap waiting for us."

Prince Lucien chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, and your solution? Walk like a duck, and I do follow."

Damiel smirked, remembering the day clearly. "And the second time was our next adventure. I was watching people's heads as they walked by because most of the town's residents couldn't see over our shoulders. So, I loudly said, 'So this is how we looked like as babies without hair!' and then poked a man's bald head, thinking it'd feel as soft as a baby's."

Prince Lucien burst out laughing. "I remember you doing that! The poor guy spun around and was about to kick you, but Sena and I-seo dragged us away immediately, and I-seo and I couldn't help but laugh too. Your intrusive thoughts always get the better of you, don't they?"

Damiel shrugged, still chuckling. "What can I say? Curiosity got the best of me. But it was hilarious—and confusing since you were so annoyed."

Prince Lucien's smile softened as he thought of Sena. "I do miss her. No matter how much chaos we bring, she handles it so gracefully—and with a bit of annoyance. She made sure we were comfortable, even if it meant putting up with our ridiculous antics."

Damiel nodded, looking distant. "And her preparations for our supplies. Those grocery trips—she didn't care about anything else but making sure we had what we needed. Even the little things, like organizing her pantry to fit our medieval cravings."

Prince Lucien placed a hand on the barrel, feeling the magic still lingering. "The veil was still active in Sena's house when we first arrived in Korea. I can still feel its energy to protect, which is weird since we're from different worlds."

Damiel looked thoughtful, staring out the window at the moonlit Tower. "Or maybe we just missed them?"

Prince Lucien sighed, a mix of frustration and hope in his eyes. "We'll figure something out. For now, let's keep trying. But I won't forget them… any of them."

Damiel smiled, determination lighting his face. "Nor will I. One day, maybe we'll find a way back. I'd like to see I-seo's carefree smile again. She didn't realize how special that is."

Prince Lucien nodded, a gentle resolve settling over him. "We owe them a lot. They gave us a home, if only for a short time."

Outside, the wind howled against the high spires of the Tower of Magic, carrying both men's thoughts back to a place where pajamas had elephants, grocery shelves seemed endless, and two unsuspecting hosts—Sena and I-seo—had given them a home they never knew they needed.

Determined to get their picture-capturing device right, Prince Lucien and Damiel decided to try something simpler next: a magical mirror.

"Maybe if we create a mirror that shows our true selves, it will help I-seo understand us better," Prince Lucien suggested, holding up a polished metal plate.

Damiel nodded. "A mirror should be easy. Let's see."

He began chanting, and the mirror shimmered with magical energy. Suddenly, instead of showing their real images, the mirror reflected them dressed as medieval jesters, complete with colorful costumes and oversized shoes.

Prince Lucien burst into laughter. "Look at us! We look ridiculous."

Damiel couldn't hold back his giggles either. "Maybe we need to adjust the reflection spell. Or maybe our true selves are more jester-like than we thought."

Prince Lucien wiped tears from his eyes. "Either way, it's a good thing we're not performing anywhere. Imagine the king seeing us like this."

Damiel placed a reassuring hand on Prince Lucien's shoulder. "At least we know we're making progress. Every failure brings us closer to understanding how to bridge our worlds."

They shared a hearty laugh, the tension easing as they embraced their magical mishaps. Despite the setbacks, their friendship and determination kept their spirits high.

Just then, the tower's door burst open, and their friend Elara walked in, holding a tray of enchanted snacks that kept floating away.

"Hey, you two," she greeted, trying to catch a floating pastry. "Need some help?"

Prince Lucien chuckled. "If only you could keep them down, Elara."

Elara rolled her eyes. "Maybe if I-seo wasn't always stealing our magical ingredients, the snacks would behave."

Damiel laughed. "Too late for that. But thanks for trying."

As Elara left, Prince Lucien noticed another failed device on the table: a self-stirring pot that was now swirling on its own, spilling enchanted stew everywhere.

"Looks like our kitchen is becoming a magical mess," Prince Lucien said, trying to clean up.

Damiel sighed. "At least it's not the first time we've had kitchen chaos. Remember the enchanted frying pan that kept flipping itself?"

Prince Lucien nodded, laughing. "How could I forget? We ended up with pancakes on the ceiling for days."

Their ongoing magical failures became a running gag, highlighting their struggles to adapt their ancient magic to modern concepts.

(Somewhere in Seoul, South Korea, December 2023)

Later that evening, after dinner, I decided to check the laundry room. Something felt off. As I opened the washer, I was greeted by a pile of clothes that definitely weren't mine or Grandpa's. The shirts were too big, and the pants looked like they belonged to someone much taller.

My face twisted in disgust. "What is this?" I muttered, picking up a large men's jacket that barely fit me. "These can't be ours."

I started sorting through the clothes, separating the colored and white ones, but the pile just kept growing. Confused and a bit scared, I called out to Grandma.

"Grandma, do you know anything about these clothes? Are these Grandpops' clothes?"

She came into the laundry room, looking just as puzzled.

"I don't know, dear. That can't be his or maybe it's your boyfriend's clothes? Why don't you tell me, dear? It's okay to forget the first night so don't worry, as I said 'We Listen and We Don't Judge', we do understand dear," She said while I-seo and Grandma giggled with a teasing look.

I shook my head, feeling more unsettled. "Grandma! I don't even have someone to talk to, and now a boyfriend? Don't change the topics, these are too big even for Grandpops and don't look like anything we'd have."

We all stood there, staring at the mountain of men's clothes, our hands on our chins as if deep in thought. I-seo joined us, her face showing the same confusion and worry.

"We need to figure out where these came from," I said, feeling the sadness and mystery deepen.

We continued to investigate, trying to find clues to explain the strange events. The clothes were just one of many odd things happening around town, and the sadness we felt seemed to come from something we couldn't quite understand.

As we stood in the laundry room, surrounded by oversized clothes and unanswered questions, I felt like we were about to uncover something much bigger than we had ever imagined.

___________

I woke up feeling that familiar tightness in my chest, like something important, was trying to tell me—but I couldn't figure out what. Shaking off the uneasy feeling, I got out of bed and got ready for my job at Kor Advanced Tech Solutions (KATS).

On my way out, I almost tripped over my neighbor Mr. Bae, who was struggling to push a huge wooden barrel onto his sidewalk.

"Morning, Mr. Bae," I said, looking at the barrel. "Are you opening a pub in your free time?"

He just grunted and looked frustrated. "It showed up in my living room, Sena. Don't think you're messing with me, are you?"

I raised my hands in surrender. "Not me! I'm more interested in finding out why there's a random barrel in your living room than in playing pranks."

He didn't seem convinced, so I quickly said goodbye and hurried away, feeling more confused. By the time I got to KATS, my mind was already full of half-remembered thoughts—a dream? A memory? Every time I tried to focus on my work, my thoughts wandered back to that strange feeling in my chest.

"Thinking about wearing knight's armor during lunch?" joked my best friend, I-seo Park, as she peeked over our cubicle divider.

I laughed. "I wish I knew what I was daydreaming about. It's like my brain is stuck."

She gave me a knowing smile. "Same here. I wish I could fix my brain right now."

We worked through the day, but neither of us was really paying attention. We're in a world that needs to work if we want to pay our bills and all. Also, weird medieval items were appearing around town, and we both felt like something was missing. Every now and then, one of us would start talking about "random medieval items" but then stop, confused. Lunch came and went, and we barely noticed.

Finally, it was time to leave. I-seo slid over to me, phone in hand, looking annoyed.

"My parents texted me," she said. "They're still on their business trip and want me to stay somewhere safe. Can I stay with you and Grandma tonight?"

"Are you kidding?" I replied. "You know Grandma loves having you over. She doesn't mind taking care of two fake grandkids instead of one."

She smiled. "Great. I'll just text Mom."

As we walked, I heard I-seo sound confused about something on her phone.

"Huh," she said, raising her eyebrows. "What is this?"

Her phone's home screen showed a rotating set of her photos and videos. A new clip had just appeared—a short video of my living room. Grandma Hyejin was there, laughing with an older man neither of us recognized. I was shocked.

"I don't remember this," she whispered.

I leaned in closer. "Wait? Grandma doesn't have visitors unless she's cooking for the entire senior club."

She tapped the video, and we watched as the man and Grandma laughed together. It looked so normal and real—yet neither of us remembered filming it. The date on the video was a month ago, right after all the strange medieval items started showing up.

"That's my living room," I said, feeling a knot in my stomach as we walked home. "But who is he?"

I-seo started scrolling through her gallery. "There are more pictures... and—oh, there's another video. Wait."

She opened another clip, even stranger than the first. It showed the same man and another one with light brown hair. They were both standing by our couch—my couch—arguing like old friends. Grandma was also in the video, but the sound was muffled. The man with light brown hair laughed at the one wearing what looked like my Grandpa's elephant-print pajama pants.

I almost dropped my bag. "Who are these guys? Why are they in my house, in Grandpa's pajamas?! And why does Grandma sound so friendly with them?"

I-seo just shrugged, saying she didn't know either.

Suddenly, a single name came from the video, "Your Highness, stop fussing. You look perfectly fine."

A teasing male voice—maybe the one with the light hair—replied with a laugh. "He's just worried he'll stretch those elephant pants."

"I've never even met a Prince Prince Lucien or a Damiel. Why am I filming them in your house?" I-seo slammed her phone screen down as if it was burning.

Confusion washed over me. I couldn't remember any guest named Prince Prince Lucien, and certainly not a guy bold enough to wear Grandpa's funny pajamas. But there they were, clear as day. And the strangest part was how natural everything looked. Everyone was laughing and seemed comfortable like they belonged there.

"Let's find somewhere quiet before we head home," I said, looking around at the curious people passing by. "We can't figure this out in the middle of the street."

We went into a small, nearly empty kimbap restaurant and took a corner booth. The bright fluorescent lights buzzed above as we watched the videos in silence. Every time we heard "Prince Lucien" or "Damiel," I felt a strange sadness, even though I didn't understand why.

I-seo checked the video details. "It says a month ago, and it looks like I recorded both clips. Which is impossible. I have no memory of this. And how does Grandma not remember guests wearing elephant pajamas?"

I rubbed my temples. "This has to be connected to all the random medieval stuff appearing around town. The barrels, the tapestries… and that feeling like we're forgetting something important."

She scrolled further and stopped, her face turning pale. "Sena, there's a mention of 'Sir Kael' or 'King Kael' in the background. That's— I used that name in a… novel I was writing. A dark BL story where Prince Prince Lucien is a war-torn prince, and Damiel is his rival-turned-lover. They both die in my draft. It's super dramatic and definitely unpublished."

I stared at her. "Your fictional characters? Here, in real life, hanging out with Grandma? That's crazy." I paused. "But… how else do we explain it?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. The only place I shared a snippet was on a small online forum—no pictures, just text. And I never used my real name. So who are these guys, and why do they have the same names as my tragic BL characters?"

My head was spinning. "So, are you saying you created these people in your story, and now they're… real?"

"I know." Her eyes showed how confused she was.

"That's why I'm so freaked out. The novel's not even published anywhere. I have it saved on my laptop at home. I've shown you some early drafts, but… the story is super obscure. No one outside my group knows the exact details or even the character names."

Images flashed in my mind: Prince Prince Lucien on the couch, Damiel teasing him, and Grandma Hyejin smiling like they were all old friends. Then that strange ache in my chest came back, stronger than before.

"So either your novel turned real, or these are just huge coincidences," I said, still confused.

She grimaced. "I don't know. It's not like we could have controlled how this happened. But one thing's for sure—Valeraine is not just a name anymore."

We sat there, ignoring our untouched menus, our hearts pounding. Finally, I said, "We need to show this to Grandma. Gently. Maybe she'll remember something."

I-seo nodded, tapping her fingers nervously. "Yeah. But if she doesn't, we're dealing with a memory gap the size of the Grand Canyon. And these guys—Prince Prince Lucien, Damiel, whoever they are—were definitely real. That's your living room, clear as day."

The name "Prince Prince Lucien" kept coming to my mind, bringing an unexplained sadness. If the weird medieval things around town and this strange video were all linked to I-seo's imaginary characters, were we living in some kind of twisted mix between reality and fiction?

We quickly paid and stepped back into the busy Seoul evening, the city life jarring us as we tried to calm down. I-seo held her phone tightly, and I clung to my bag, afraid to lose my grip on reality.

I walked faster than usual, eager to get home and talk to Grandma. Even if she couldn't explain the video, maybe she'd at least recognize the men. We needed answers; we couldn't stay confused like this forever.

But as we got closer to my house, the ache in my chest got worse, like a warning that once we opened the door, there'd be no turning back. Part of me wanted to ignore everything—delete the videos, call it a glitch, and go back to my data work without worry. But deep down, I knew that whatever we'd forgotten might be the key to understanding the sadness that had been following us.

We reached the gate, and Grandma's shadow was visible through the window, moving around the living room. The thought of that same living room hosting these mysterious men gave me another chill. I took a deep breath and turned to I-seo.

"All right," I whispered. "Ready?"

She gave a small, shaky nod, holding her phone. "As I'll ever be."

With that, I opened the door, stepping into the house that felt both familiar and strangely different.