Dream of Reality

The room was quiet, save for the faint creak of wood as the cold breeze pushed against the walls of Eclipsevane. Jane's body lay still on the narrow cot, her blanket pulled up to her chin. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, her expression peaceful—until her brows furrowed ever so slightly.

The dream began softly, almost gently, as if it were a memory long forgotten. She found herself in a meadow bathed in soft golden light, the kind that comes with late afternoons. The air smelled sweet, like honey and wildflowers. Birds chirped in the distance, their song weaving a sense of calm.

Yet, the stillness didn't sit right with her.

She turned in place, the scenery around her eerily familiar yet wrong. The edges of the meadow blurred, as though they weren't quite there. The birdsong grew quieter, then stopped altogether. The air felt heavier, colder, like the warmth was being pulled away piece by piece.

"Jane…"

Her heart stopped at the sound of her name. It was a whisper carried on the wind, soft yet unmistakable. She spun around, her boots crunching on brittle grass, but no one was there. The field stretched endlessly, its golden hue fading into gray. The sky, once vibrant, was now an ominous shade of red.

"Help me…"

This time, the voice was louder. Her head snapped to the side, and her breath caught in her throat. There, on the horizon, a figure staggered into view. He was too far to make out, but the way he moved—slow, pained, like every step was a struggle—sent a chill through her.

"Changra?" she called out, her voice trembling.

Her legs carried her forward before she realized she was running. The figure ahead of her stumbled and fell, disappearing into the shadowy grass. She quickened her pace, her breath coming in short gasps as she closed the distance.

When she reached him, she froze.

Changra lay crumpled on the ground, his body broken and battered. Blood stained his clothes, pooling beneath him, and his chest heaved with shallow, labored breaths. His face was pale, his eyes half-lidded and unfocused. The sight of him, so vulnerable, so unlike the stubborn and defiant boy she knew, tore at her heart.

"Changra!" she dropped to her knees beside him, her hands hovering over his form, unsure of where to touch, where to help. "What happened? Talk to me, please!"

He tried to speak, his lips moving, but no sound came out. His hand twitched, reaching toward her, and she grabbed it without hesitation. It was cold—unnaturally cold—and it sent a shiver through her entire body.

The meadow began to shift. The grass withered, turning black and brittle, and the once-open sky closed in, pressing down on her. Shadows crawled across the ground, circling them like predators. The air filled with a low hum, a sound she couldn't place but that set her nerves on edge.

"This isn't real," she whispered, her voice shaking. "This can't be real."

Changra's lips moved again, forming a single word. This time, she heard it—just barely.

"Run."

Jane's stomach churned as the word echoed in her mind. "Run?" she repeated, her voice barely audible. "No, I'm not leaving you!"

Changra's grip on her hand tightened, surprising her with its sudden strength. His eyes flickered, glowing faintly with a crimson hue, and his lips parted again. "Run…" he rasped, the word sharper, more forceful. His voice was laced with something alien, something that wasn't his.

The hum grew louder, a vibration in the air that seeped into her bones. Shadows began to take shape, rising from the blackened grass like living smoke. Tendrils of darkness twisted and writhed, reaching toward her with deliberate intent. Jane gasped, instinctively pulling Changra closer, shielding him with her body.

"Stay with me, Changra," she pleaded, her tears falling freely. "You can fight this—you always fight."

But his head lolled to the side, his glowing eyes dimming. His chest rose and fell erratically, each breath more strained than the last. The shadows crept closer, their tendrils brushing against her boots. The touch burned, sending a sharp pain up her legs. She yelped, jerking away, but they advanced relentlessly.

"Run…" Changra's voice echoed once more, but this time, it didn't come from his lips. It came from everywhere—from the shadows, the air, the very ground beneath her. She looked around frantically, her heart pounding, but there was no escape. The meadow was gone, replaced by an endless expanse of darkness.

"No," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm not leaving you. I won't."

The shadows surged forward, enveloping them both. Jane screamed, clutching Changra tightly, but it was like holding onto smoke. He slipped from her grasp, his body dissolving into the darkness. She reached out, her fingers grasping at empty air, and the world around her collapsed.

The next moment, she was standing in a desolate wasteland. The air was thick with ash, the ground cracked and barren. In the distance, the sky burned a deep red, the sun barely visible through the haze. She stumbled forward, her feet dragging across the uneven terrain.

"Changra?" she called out, her voice echoing in the emptiness.

Silence answered her. She turned in circles, her panic growing. The shadows were gone, but the oppressive weight of the dream remained. Then, in the distance, she saw him.

Changra stood alone, his back to her, his shoulders slumped. His silver hair was gone, replaced by the dark, tousled strands she remembered. He looked smaller, more fragile, as though the world had beaten him down.

"Changra!" she cried, running toward him.

He didn't move, didn't acknowledge her. As she got closer, she realized why. Blood dripped from his hands, pooling at his feet. The ground beneath him was soaked in crimson, the cracks spreading outward like veins.

"Changra…" Her voice faltered as she slowed to a stop behind him. "What… what's happening?"

He turned to face her, and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were blank, lifeless, but tears streamed down his face. His mouth moved, but the words were lost in the roar of the burning sky.

Before she could reach him, the ground beneath her cracked open, and she fell. The last thing she saw was Changra reaching out to her, his expression one of despair.

Jane jolted awake, gasping for air. Her room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon through the window. Her heart raced, her body trembling as she tried to steady herself.

"Just a dream," she whispered, clutching her chest. "It was just a dream…"

But deep down, she knew it was something more.

Jane's heart was still racing as she splashed cold water onto her face, hoping to shake off the lingering unease from her dream. Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her, pale and drawn, her eyes carrying the weight of sleepless nights. She rubbed at her temples, trying to soothe the pounding in her head.

It's fine, she told herself, just a bad dream. Nothing more.

Her stomach growled, interrupting her spiraling thoughts, and she decided to head to the dining hall for breakfast. The guild was unusually quiet this morning, the familiar buzz of activity dulled to a murmur. As she approached the main hall, she heard voices.

Jane slowed her steps and peeked around the corner. At the long wooden table in the center of the room, Elara sat with Aetterus. Jane's stomach churned. She had always found something off about the guild master of Ariants—the way his perpetual smirk never seemed to reach his eyes, the way he spoke as though he knew everyone's secrets. Lately, his presence at Eclipsevane had grown more frequent, and Jane couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't a coincidence.

Why is he always here? she thought, ducking behind a pillar. She pressed her back against the cool stone and strained to hear their conversation.

Elara's voice was low but firm. "Are you certain about this plan, Aetterus? It's dangerous, and if it fails, we'll lose him completely."

Jane's brow furrowed. Lose who? Changra? Her heart raced again, but this time, it wasn't from fear.

Aetterus's voice followed, smooth and calculated. "There's no other way, my dear Elara. The boy is trapped in a prison of his own making. If we want any chance of salvaging him, we need to go where he is."

"And you believe this will work? That sending them into his mind will help?" Elara sounded skeptical, though there was a note of desperation in her tone.

Jane's breath caught. Into his mind?

"It's a delicate process, yes," Aetterus replied, his smirk audible in his tone. "But I've already devised the necessary spells to make it happen. Trust me, I've spent centuries mastering this sort of thing."

Jane's grip on the pillar tightened. Centuries? That wasn't just an exaggeration, not with Aetterus. She'd heard the rumors, the whispers that he was far older than he looked, but hearing him say it aloud sent a chill down her spine.

"And who will go in?" Elara asked, leaning forward. "It can't just be anyone."

Aetterus let out a soft chuckle. "No, it can't. But we both know who it must be."

Jane didn't need to see his face to know his gaze had shifted toward the door, as though he knew she was listening. Her heart thudded in her chest. She didn't wait to hear more. She turned on her heel and hurried back the way she'd come, her thoughts racing.

They want to send someone into Changra's mind? Who? Me?

Her fists clenched at her sides as a wave of determination coursed through her. If anyone was going to help Changra, it had to be her.

Jane stayed pressed against the cold stone, her breath shallow as she tried to focus on the voices coming from the dining hall.

Elara's tone shifted, more deliberate. "You're suggesting we send Jane into his mind. I can see why you think she should go—her connection to him is undeniable. But she can't go alone."

"Of course not," Aetterus replied smoothly, the smirk in his voice evident. "I wouldn't dream of it. A journey like this requires balance. Emotional ties are a key element, but so is stability. We need someone grounded, and someone capable of adapting to what they'll find. Jane, while… useful, doesn't entirely fit the latter."

Elara's fingers drummed on the table. "So, who else do you have in mind?"

"Aria and Thorne," Aetterus said without hesitation. "Aria's aptitude for sensing emotions and navigating mental landscapes makes her an obvious choice. And Thorne—well, let's just say his simplicity will act as an anchor. He's a stabilizing force, and his loyalty to both Jane and Changra will be invaluable."

Elara let out a slow breath, considering his words. "Thorne is a risk. His loyalty can blind him, and his emotions run deep. That's dangerous in a realm as volatile as someone's mind."

"True," Aetterus admitted, "but his childish demeanor is also an asset. His optimism, his… uncomplicated nature—it provides a sort of shield against the chaos they'll face. Chaos feeds on doubt and despair, and Thorne has an almost infuriating resistance to both."

Elara's voice grew quieter, her concern evident. "And Aria? She's young. I know she's capable, but this is—"

"Beyond her?" Aetterus cut her off. "Don't underestimate her, Elara. She has potential, far greater than most of your guild members. Besides, this isn't about individual strengths. It's about balance. Jane, Aria, and Thorne together create that balance."

Elara fell silent for a moment before speaking again. "And what about Changra himself? What happens if he… fights back?"

"Ah," Aetterus said, the sound of his chair creaking as he leaned back. "That's the beauty of it. If Changra resists, they'll simply have to outmaneuver him. Convince him to let go of whatever is binding him to his current state. But," his voice darkened, "if they fail, then Changra will remain trapped, or worse—he'll take them down with him."

Elara's tone hardened. "You've clearly given this a lot of thought. Too much thought. How do I know this isn't just another game for you, Aetterus?"

A low chuckle escaped him. "My dear Elara, everything is a game. But this? This is survival. Without the boy, we all lose."

Jane took a deep breath, straightened her posture, and stepped out from behind the stone pillar, forcing a casual smile onto her face. She walked into the dining hall as though she hadn't just overheard a single word.

"Good morning," she greeted, her voice light but controlled. "How's the morning treating the two of you?"

Elara looked up sharply, her expression briefly flickering between surprise and suspicion before settling into her usual stern demeanor. Aetterus, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. His ever-present smirk widened as he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

"Ah, Jane," Aetterus drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. "The morning treats me well enough, though it seems you've risen earlier than usual."

Jane shrugged, keeping her voice steady. "Couldn't sleep. Figured I'd get a head start on the day. And you?" Her gaze flicked to Elara. "You both seem deep in thought."

Elara's lips pressed into a thin line. "Discussing guild matters," she said curtly, her tone dismissive.

Jane nodded, moving to the table and grabbing a piece of bread. She tore off a small piece, letting it linger in her hand as she forced herself to keep her movements calm. "Anything I should know about?" she asked innocently, her eyes flicking between the two of them.

"Guild matters," Aetterus repeated with a chuckle, "are often best left to those who run the guilds. Surely you've got other things to occupy your time."

Jane's jaw tightened at his condescension, but she quickly masked it with a small smile. "Right," she said, her voice light. "I just thought, with Changra and everything, there might be something I could do."

Aetterus tilted his head, studying her with an almost predatory curiosity. "How noble of you," he said, his words slow and deliberate. "But don't worry yourself too much. We've already discussed a plan to help the boy."

Jane's stomach twisted, but she kept her expression neutral. "A plan?" she echoed, her tone feigning curiosity. "What kind of plan?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with just yet," Elara interjected, her sharp tone making it clear that the conversation was over.

Jane forced a smile and nodded. "Of course. I trust you both know what you're doing."

"Trust is such a beautiful thing," Aetterus mused, his hazel eyes glittering with amusement. "And so rare these days. Don't you think?"

Jane didn't rise to his bait. Instead, she glanced at Elara, giving a quick nod. "I'll leave you to your… guild matters, then."

Turning on her heel, she walked briskly out of the room, her mind racing. She knew Aetterus was hiding something—something far more sinister than he was letting on. But whatever it was, she'd find out. And she'd be ready.