The alignment

"Master! Master! Master!" Vin ran toward his master's hut, shouting at the top of his lungs.

The young Dreamchasers turned their heads, curiosity lighting up their youthful faces. They had been brought outside by their mentor to study the art of in-depth reading—seeing beyond what meets the ordinary eye.

Vin was known for his gentleness and cool-headedness. He rarely raised his voice unless absolutely necessary. So, seeing him like this—racing and shouting—was enough to shock them to the core.

Still, he kept on, yelling breathlessly, unknowingly—or perhaps knowingly—drawing the attention of other Dreamchasers as they went about their peaceful daily studies.

The little city of the Dreamchasers was a haven of learning, hidden away from the rest of the world. They rarely interacted with other races unless it was of absolute importance.

Finally, Vin reached his master's hut. It was the first of many identical huts arranged in rows, reserved for Dreamchaser mentors.

He stormed in without knocking or offering the usual loud greeting—a sign of urgency that couldn’t be ignored.

Inside, Master Liam was napping, snoring softly, his lips trembling as he exhaled. His face looked worn and weary, his brow furrowed even in sleep.

Vin paused for only a second to take in the tidy room. A few spellbooks were neatly arranged on the shelf, and a variety of potions—some still bubbling from the day before—lined the work table. They had been working on a cure for diarrhea just yesterday.

He approached the bed and gently tapped his master’s shoulder.

Master Liam groaned and turned his back, clearly intending to return to sleep.

Vin frowned and shook him harder this time, both hands pressing insistently into the old man's shoulders.

"What in the name of the Spirit is going on?!" Master Liam jolted upright, eyes wide in alarm. He reached for his robe and slippers, convinced there must be an emergency—perhaps the sky was caving in?

He muttered under his breath as he scrambled to collect himself, still only half awake.

"Master, it's happening," Vin said, his voice trembling with excitement as he caught himself before jumping in glee.

"What is happening?" Master Liam asked, trying to keep calm in the face of the chaos.

"Master, I had a vision!" Vin declared, unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face.

Master Liam stared at his apprentice of thirteen years, startled. He wasn’t sure he'd ever seen this kind of joy on Vin’s face before.

A vision—an actual vision—was a monumental moment for any Dreamchaser. Their purpose in the coming war was to catch glimpses of fate, slivers of what could be. So what made this one so important?

"In the name of the Great Spirit, would you just tell me what you saw—or should I lock you up in the dungeon?" Master Liam barked, satisfied to see Vin's enthusiasm dim slightly at the warning.

"Master, I had a vision about the alignment of the stars and the correlation with the lunar calendar," Vin explained eagerly.

To a layman, it might sound like nonsense, the ravings of a delusional man—but Master Liam knew better.

"So... it means?" the master asked, his voice trailing with cautious hope.

"It means the prophecy is blossoming. It's on the cusp—ready to be fulfilled or thwarted," Vin replied, nearly glowing with excitement.

Master Liam blinked. "When did you say the new year in Catyra begins? It’ll be the Year of the Pentagon, yes?"

He tried to mask his excitement, clearing his throat repeatedly, but the gleam in his eyes gave him away.

The prophecy. It was finally awakening. The time to end the reign of the Slayer—the tyrant—was near.

"What do we need?" Vin asked.

The list was long: an absurd amount of money, thousands of soldiers, perhaps even an extra life or two. But he didn’t voice those thoughts. Instead, he sighed deeply.

"Nothing much," Master Liam said. "The most important thing is to find the right one."

Vin frowned. The burden of guiding the Chosen One weighed heavily on them—it was like placing a branch atop a pile of sand, threatening to collapse it all.

But they had no choice. It was time to save Catyra.

"Now, boy, get up and gather the mentors for me. We need to hold an urgent meeting." Master Liam stroked his beard, already lost in deep thought.

Vin didn’t need to be told twice. He dashed out of the hut and headed straight for the Dreamchasers’ School.

He stopped in front of the largest building in the village, gasping for breath. The distance wasn’t far, but the adrenaline rushing through him made it hard to breathe.

It still felt surreal—like a dream. Years of training were finally coming to an end. It was time for action.

The Dreamchasers had lived in seclusion for years, hiding in shadows, preparing for this prophecy. Very few creatures in Catyra knew of it—if any of them were even still alive.

It had been so long since the last war—the rebellion of the Council members against the Lord Ruler.

Many lives had been lost in that war. Once a land of magic and fertility, Catyra was now broken. Its sorcerers, astrologers, and mystics scattered or dead. The arts were lost, the myths forgotten.

Until now.

Vin approached the massive iron door. He pressed his index finger to the wall and muttered a spell:

“Opënä meharä.”

The door creaked open, releasing a pungent scent of potions and chemicals. He stepped inside the compound where various learning activities were underway.

Some of the students were studying potion-making—Vin’s favorite subject. Even as a child, he had a gift for it, and he hoped to become a mentor himself someday.

Suddenly, a ball of fire shot past his long ear.

If not for the quick deflection spell he cast at the last second, his ear would’ve turned into roasted meat.

He turned to find the culprit—and was surprised.

Maree.

She was tall and slender like the rest, but her crystal-blue eyes and long black hair set her apart. She was known for her intelligence and bravery. A mentor herself, she was about the same age as Vin.

They were age-mates but had barely spoken more than a few words over the years. Still, his affection for her hadn’t dimmed.

He cleared his throat and scratched his neck awkwardly.

"Was that your student’s handiwork?" he asked, gesturing to the blackened ashes.

"Ah, yes. Sorry, Master Vin. I was teaching them how to conjure fire using energy from water. It’s difficult, as you know." She chuckled—a light, lovely sound that danced through the air like springtime melody.

"I see..." he managed, suddenly tongue-tied.

"But what brings you here, Master Vin?" she asked, arching a brow.

It flattered him that she called him “Master Vin,” even though she was a master herself.

"Ah—yes! Master Liam asked me to gather the mentors for an urgent meeting," he said. His voice cracked slightly. He winced. It wasn’t like he was going through puberty, for heaven’s sake.

Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice.

"An urgent meeting? May I ask what it’s about?"

"Of course! You can ask me anything—I mean, um..." He coughed, flustered. "It’s about the prophecy."

Her eyes widened, visibly shocked.

"The prophecy?" she repeated, as if to be sure.

"Yes. The prophecy," he confirmed, barely containing his excitement.

"Then I won’t keep you from your task. I’ll return to my students." She smiled and turned away.

"You’ll be there, won’t you? At the meeting, I mean?" he asked, hopeful.

"Of course! It's a meeting for mentors, isn’t it? I’ll surely be there. See you in a bit," she said over her shoulder.

Vin’s heart thundered in his chest.

She said she’d see him again in a bit.

How delightful was that?

The sound of the bell pulled him back to reality. He had work to do.

Still smiling, he hurried off to deliver the rest of the message.