Chapter Fifteen: Dreaming Hall

Dreaming Tower

High Solis Citadel,

Stuart Domain, AKA Bastion Pass

Sol Continent

Terra, Gaea, solar system

Milky Way Galaxy

Luminary Star sector

19th Vetraeus cycle, 50 New Solaris Prime

The door slid open with a soft chime, and Sam stepped into her mother's chamber. Sophia Sinclair's quarters were nothing short of majestic, yet understated in their elegance. Deep-hued silks draped across tall crystalline windows, diffusing the warm light of the sun above into a soft, amber glow. The walls shimmered faintly with embedded runes—wards of protection, memory, and clairvoyance—each pulsing subtly in time with Sophia's breath.

The air here always felt still. Controlled. Like time moved slower when Sophia was near. Sam paused just inside the threshold, eyes scanning the familiar space. Despite everything—despite their shared bloodline, their similar features—Sam still had a hard time being so close to Sophia Sinclair.

Sophia stood by the balcony, her back to Sam, her emerald hair cascading like threads of woven light. She wore robes of midnight blue embroidered with constellations that shimmered as she moved. In her hand was a delicate glass vial of starlight-infused tea, untouched.

"You're late," she said softly, without turning.

"I had a... moment," Sam replied, walking further into the room. "Something happened in the lab."

Sophia turned then, her gaze sharp but calm. Her violet eyes—ageless, enigmatic—fixed on her daughter's face. She studied Sam for a long moment, then motioned to the seating cushion beside the low glass table.

"Sit," she said. "You're trembling."

Sam hadn't realized she was. But her hands did feel a little shaky. She sat, folding her legs beneath her, and took the cup her mother offered. It was warm—soothing—and subtly infused with dreamroot essence, a mild sedative used in pre-vision rituals.

"You opened it," Sophia said, her tone almost a question.

Sam nodded. "The sphere from the dungeon. It held a cultivation formula—Divine grade. It was encoded by the Gaea system and uploaded directly into my Ethereal Gland."

Sophia raised a brow, setting her tea down. "The Terra Constellation Formula."

"You knew," Sam said flatly.

"I suspected," her mother replied. "I had sensed something anomalous buried in that dungeon long before your expedition. I chose not to retrieve it myself."

"Why?"

Sophia leaned back, her expression unreadable. "Because some truths are meant to find their bearers. You needed to discover it on your own."

Sam looked away, staring into the glow of the runes overhead. "You could've just given me a formula. You had access to the Sinclair one. Even the Vysileaf's."

"I did offer you both," Sophia said coolly. "And you refused."

Sam sighed. "Because I already knew the Vysileaf method. Through Inastasia."

At that, Sophia's expression shifted—just slightly. Her fingers twitched near the rim of her teacup.

"I know," she said after a pause. "I felt the change in you after you returned from the Echo Field. You're not the same person you were fifty years ago," Sophia continued, her voice quieter now. "There's a merging happening within you. Not just of memories... but of lineages. Wills."

"I can feel it too," Sam admitted. "And now this formula... it feels like it was waiting for me. Like I'm supposed to use it. But more than that...Why did you call for me?"

"The time has come," Sophia said, rising from her seat with a slow, deliberate grace.

Sam, still cradling her cooling tea, blinked. "Time for what?"

"For the Dreaming Tower," her mother replied, already walking toward the far corridor where the moonlit archway shimmered.

****

The Dreaming Tower was more than a place—it was a sanctum veiled in secrecy, a relic of forgotten ages hidden deep within the Stuart Domain of the Sol Continent. The island that housed the tower stood alone, surrounded by silver mist and turbulent waters, cloaked under a self-sustaining mystic art woven by the land's own will. This natural barrier—an ever-shifting veil of elemental formulas and invisible seals—repelled intruders, warping space to mislead or disorient anyone not recognized by the land. It was nature's own spellwork: Natural Mystic Art. Living, breathing, and alive.

There was only one structure on the entire island—a solitary tower carved from pale, moon-kissed stone. It rose from the dense jungle like a shard of the heavens, silent and eternal. Within its walls slumbered countless secrets... and more than a few ancient beasts who had bound themselves to the island's core.

Through the skies they flew—mother and daughter—leaving behind the manicured courtyards of the Sinclair estate for the wild magic of the Dreaming Isle. Sophia flew with practiced serenity, her robes trailing behind her like banners of the night sky. Sam followed closely, her senses tingling as she scanned the shifting currents of mana below.

She activated her Eyes of Mathias, and the world unfolded around her like a cosmic equation. Glyphs swirled through the air, etched into the very currents of the wind. Sigils twisted and danced over tree canopies, woven into the geometry of the island's structure. Sam saw it all—the natural mystic arts humming like resonant chords, formulas etched not by hand but by the world's own intent.

Mystic Arts were advanced techniques—high-order techniques drawn from specialized formulaic constructs, typically executed by experienced practitioners of mystic and arcane arts. But natural mystic arts... they were different. These were not cast. They were born. Self-writing, self-sustaining blueprints that manifested in places saturated with ambient mana—where the will of the world concentrated and crystallized into mystical phenomena.

Dreaming Island was thick with it. Like walking into the mind of the planet itself.

When they reached the outer threshold of the island, Sam felt the pressure shift. The sky shimmered with an invisible boundary, like the surface of rippling glass. Her body instinctively tensed, the barrier responding to her presence as an outsider.

But Sophia didn't slow. She simply took Sam's arm, her fingers warm and firm, and pulled her through the veil. The world rippled once—and they were inside.

The forest gave way to a clearing bathed in pale green light. Above the treetops, the Dreaming Tower loomed—an enormous obelisk of white stone, its surface etched with glowing, dream-like runes that pulsed in sync with the heartbeat of the island. It felt timeless. Unmoving. As though it existed both in the present and in the echoes of the past.

They touched down softly on the stone stairway that spiraled up to the tower's grand entrance. As her boots touched the ground, Sam's eyes were drawn to a figure waiting at the top of the stairs.

She froze.

It had been years since she'd seen her—and yet, the face was unmistakable.

Aria Field.

Sam's college roommate.

Memories she had buried beneath war reports and cultivation charts stirred to the surface like ghosts from another life. That quiet, socially withdrawn existence she had led during university—always alone, always distant. The only meaningful bonds she'd formed were with Rosa, Henry, and Callum. Even then, she kept them at arm's length.

And then there was Aria. The one person she lived with, yet never truly saw. Their conversations had been brief, formal, polite… but Aria had always watched her with eyes that seemed to see more than she let on.

Now she stood at the top of the staircase, and she looked… changed.

Still beautiful. Still poised. Her skin fair, almost luminous under the light of the sun. But her once dark brown hair had transformed—now a rich bronze-gold, cascading in waves down her back, streaked with delicate lines of golden runes that shimmered like celestial circuitry. Her eyes, a pale blue, now glowed softly with layered rings of light, like starlight trapped behind glass.

And something about her aura… reminded Sam of Leon.

"Samantha," Aria said, her voice like velvet wrapped in starlight. A gentle smile curved her lips. "It's so good to see you again."

Sam stared at her, words momentarily failing. Something pulsed faintly within her soul—a ripple of recognition, though not quite memory.

"…Aria?" she said softly.

The other woman nodded, the smile never fading. "It's been a long time."

"You…" Sam's voice caught in her throat. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped forward, her breath soft but charged. "You were a Mystic all along."

Aria inclined her head, her expression serene. "Yes. I was."

Sam's gaze sharpened. Pieces clicked into place—memories long dismissed now reframed under a new light. She had seen this pattern before.

Rosa.

Rosa had been the first. A friend, a confidant… and secretly a Guardian working for the Golden Dawn. Assigned to observe her under the authority of Adonis and Phoebe Yesh. All under the guise of companionship.

And now Aria.

If Aria had been placed so close to her, living under the same roof, hiding in plain sight—then she had likely been serving another master. Someone with ties to this place. Someone Sam knew very well.

"Julia Haravok," Sam said slowly, voice tinged with steel. "Where is she?"

Aria's smile softened. "I'm afraid Aunt Julia isn't here at the moment."

Sam blinked. "Aunt?"

"She is my aunt," Aria replied. "Which makes Leon… my cousin."

A pause. Sam's eyebrows rose slightly.

"You're related to Leon?"

"Yes." Aria stepped down a few stairs toward her, the runes in her hair glowing faintly in the ambient light. "My true name is Aria Delphi. I'm sorry for the deception all those years ago. I made a promise to my aunt that I would watch over you."

Sam's jaw tightened, a flicker of heat rising behind her eyes. "I bet you did."

Of course Julia Haravok would have planted someone in her life. The witch who pulled fate's threads like a puppeteer—always moving behind the veil, always preparing her contingencies.

Sam remembered it vividly.

That moment. That edge.

The night when the pain and guilt had consumed her. When she had stood on the precipice of her own mind, ready to let go. The grief of surviving when her father hadn't. The burden of expectation. The silence that followed.

She had tried to end it.

And yet, she'd survived. Waking up in a hospital room bathed in sterile white, confused, shaken, and breathing.

She had no idea how she lived.

But now she did.

She looked at Aria—not with anger, but a strange, layered understanding. "You were there… that night."

"I was," Aria admitted. "Not physically, but close enough to stop the worst from happening. Julia made me promise. I honored that promise."

Sam's eyes lingered on her—watching, analyzing. Her Mystic Eyes activated almost reflexively, the world around her shifting into luminous geometries and aura strands. Something strange shimmered around Aria, like an echo without origin, a form half-present.

There was no physical distortion, but her energy signature pulsed differently—ethereal, almost dream-woven.

"…This isn't your real body," Sam said, the realization settling like a stone in her chest. "Is it?"

"You noticed," Aria said, her smile tinged with approval. "No. This is my Astral Body—a conscious projection. My real body is within the Dreaming Hall… in deep meditation."

Sam folded her arms, processing the implications.

"You're split across places," she said. "That's not something just any Mystic can do."

"No," Aria agreed. "But the Dreaming Hall is no ordinary structure. It exists partially within the Astral Plane. Through it, one can extend their consciousness beyond physical limitations. I can be in multiple places at once—present both within and outside the waking world."

Sam's expression darkened slightly, not in anger, but in contemplation. "So you've been watching me from the Astral side of the veil all this time."

Aria's eyes shimmered gently. "I've been with you. Not just as a watcher, but as someone who genuinely cared. Even when I couldn't interfere directly."

Sam looked away for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line. Her emotions stirred—not betrayal, not entirely. It was more complicated than that. A knot of memories, shadows, and truths now seen through a new lens.

Finally, she exhaled.

"Well," Sam said, voice quieter now. "You've seen my worst. Might as well see what I become next."

Aria's expression warmed. "Then come inside. The Dreaming Hall awaits"

The massive doors of the Dreaming Tower creaked open without a single hand touching them. Pale silver light spilled out from within, forming intricate patterns across the stone steps—runes and constellations carved into the very floor, alive with quiet energy. The inside of the tower was unlike anything Sam had ever seen. It wasn't built in the way ordinary buildings were. It grew, like an organic structure sculpted from moonlight and crystal, pulsing with astral rhythm.

Sam stepped across the threshold, flanked by Sophia and Aria, her senses immediately overwhelmed by the density of Od swirling within the chamber. It was thick—not oppressive, but immersive. She felt as though she had entered a sea of dreams, the air itself soaked in overlapping timelines, whispering truths from a thousand different worlds.

The interior spanned up endlessly, a cathedral of memory and starlight. Walls of glimmering quartz held ghostlike images of people long gone, scenes from forgotten empires and battles fought in silence, suspended in the crystalline walls like echoes of the past.

At the heart of the chamber stood a circular dais, floating slightly above the ground, surrounded by thirteen luminous pillars.

And upon the dais—waiting—was Vuelo.

She stood in her regalia: a layered dress of iridescent silk that shimmered between dusk-blue and twilight violet. Her long hair cascaded like silvered ink, and her heterochromia eyes…were pools of ancient galaxies, deep and unreadable.

"You've come," Vuelo said without preamble, her voice calm and quiet, yet it echoed across the chamber like a ripple through still water. "Good. Time is not on our side."

Sam's jaw tightened slightly. She could feel the pull of the moment—the kind of gravity that only accompanied world-altering truths.

"Have you finally seen the path towards completing Terra's awakening." Sam asked.

Vuelo nodded, folding her hands before her. She gestured toward the glowing pillars around them. Each one pulsed with a different elemental rhythm—wind, fire, earth, water, light, darkness and more—each one a tether to the world's primal energy streams.

"The Dreaming Tower," Vuelo began, "was built upon one of Terra's original leyline spires. When Terra was first formed, it was nourished by a pair of stars—twin suns that bathed it in balanced radiance. One sun governed spiritual ascent. The other governed material harmony. Together, they stabilized the planet's World Energy, allowing safe cultivation across all races and bloodlines."

Sam's brows furrowed. "But Terra only has one sun now."

Vuelo's expression darkened slightly. "Yes. Because the second sun… was sealed away."

Sophia stepped forward, her voice calm. "It happened during the fall of the AurenIdril Empire. The Celestial War fractured the balance of Terra. When the empire collapsed, the world we know as the mundane plane was born—shattered, disconnected, and spiritually unstable."

Vuelo nodded. "The second sun was believed to be too dangerous… its light too pure. It was hidden—locked behind seals crafted by the gods and buried beyond the grasp of time. And in its absence, Terra's World Energy became volatile. Unstable. Cultivation became a high-risk endeavor. You've seen the effects yourself—mana poisoning, soul fractures, elemental instability."

Sam's mind raced. It all fit. The anomalies. The sudden surges. The reason why Terra had always felt... incomplete.

"So how do we fix it?" she asked. "How do we bring it back?"

Vuelo turned toward the far side of the tower. A new series of images began to form in the air—like ink swirling through water, coalescing into the figure of a woman with six arms, a radiant crown, and a celestial staff.

"Her name was Illysviel," Vuelo said. "The first High Priestess of Octagram. Long before the downfall of the AurenIdril empire, she foresaw the seal and the danger it would pose. She couldn't prevent it—but she prepared for its undoing."

Aria's voice was soft with awe. "She created the Nine Celestial Keys."

Sam's eyes widened. "Keys?"

"Artifacts," Vuelo clarified. "Forged from the remnants of the Sun Forge and blessed with Ethereal Law. Each key holds power capable of unraveling metaphysical seals—no matter how old or complex. Together, the nine can undo any binding... even the one that holds the second sun captive."

"And where are they now?" Sam asked.

Vuelo's gaze grew distant. "Scattered across the world. Hidden. Guarded. Forgotten. Each one was entrusted to different orders, clans, and ancient vaults. Finding them will not be easy. But with the Terra Constellation Formula that you've gained, you can begin to attune yourself to their frequencies."

Sam looked at the glowing pillars again, her breath steadying as the weight of it all sank in.

"So if we retrieve the keys… and release the second sun…"

Vuelo finished the thought for her: "Then Terra will heal. World Energy will stabilize. And cultivation… will no longer be a gamble."

Sophia placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "But know this—many forces would prefer the seal remain intact. They benefit from a broken world."

Sam closed her eyes, feeling the Terra Constellation Formula stir within her soul. She could sense it now, not just as knowledge—but as direction. As if the stars themselves were whispering the way forward.

"Then let's find the keys," she said, her voice steady. "Let's bring the second sun home."