The days in Aris slipped by, filled with a newfound normalcy. Kael moved through the village like a more solid shadow, participating in everyday life, yet acutely aware of what others could not see.
His insomnia continued, but it was no longer a source of worry; on the contrary, he felt increasingly charged, as if the sleep accumulated in the Dream Realm nourished him without the need for further rest. This constant energy gave him uninterrupted lucidity. The mental communication with Master Elian, though faint, was a reassuring constant, a link to his true purpose. He knew he was suspended between two worlds, but it was time to make his choice.
One morning, while helping Uncle Borin organize the warehouse, Elian's voice resonated in his mind, clearer than usual. "Kael. Anya's reserves are nearly full. The time for the truce is short. You must return to us soon."
Kael set down a box of nails. "Uncle," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Remember my... sickness? Well, it seems I need to go back for a while to 'cure' myself. But this time, it won't be such a long sleep, and we have measures in place to keep me safe."
Borin scratched his beard. "Again? But you just recovered, boy." His face clouded slightly. "And how will we explain this? We can't say you're in a deep sleep again, because people will start seriously worrying."
Kael had already discussed this with Elian during their brief communications. "We won't have to. It won't be an inert sleep like before. I'll be... traveling. Say that I have an opportunity, a kind of apprenticeship far away, for an indefinite period. I'll return when I've learned all I need to. That will be easier for everyone to accept than another mysterious sleep sickness."
It was a half-truth, but necessary for the peace of the village and the protection of his mission.
Borin nodded slowly, reflecting. "An apprenticeship... yes, that might work. I'll say you have a talent for craftsmanship, and that an old friend asked me to send you to him in a nearby city. That way, they won't have a reason to come looking for you. An honest apprenticeship, huh?" A sad smile creased his lips. "I'll miss you, son. But if it's for your... recovery and for this strange purpose of yours, then it's fine."
That afternoon, Kael felt an irresistible urge to do something he felt was right, before leaving the real world again. He felt the weight of the unspoken truth and the need to leave a positive mark before departing for the conflict. He walked towards the edge of the village, toward the stream where he had first met the little girl from the fountain. It was a place that had marked the beginning of his journey, a symbol of his role as Guardian.
He found her there. She was sitting on a rock, no longer crying, but with a look still veiled by a subtle sadness, clutching a withered flower. Her dream had not yet been fully repaired; the Ash had left a deep shard in her innocence.
Kael approached, a reassuring smile lighting up his face. "Hello, little one. Do you remember me?"
The girl looked at him, her eyes large and dull. "The dream lord... My flower is dead."
Kael sat down beside her, his heart gripped by deep compassion. "Sometimes flowers must wither so that new, stronger ones can be born," he said softly. "And dreams can be repaired. Sadness is a part of life, but it doesn't have to be the end of everything."
Kael gently took her hand. The contact anchored him to the moment, erasing all strategic thought. He just wanted to restore light to those eyes.
Without a second thought, without calculation, he channeled a portion of his Guardian energy. He visualized his Dream Garden, his recent triumph over Distraction, the true peace he had found in accepting pain and growth. He shaped a small sphere of pure dream light, imbued with hope, resilience, and the joy of discovery, and placed it upon the girl's chest.
It was an act of pure, selfless healing. Kael did not think of the consequences, only the necessity of alleviating that small suffering, feeling a profound sense of peace in the giving. And it worked magnificently.
The girl's eyes lit up with a vibrant, warm glow, as if a candle had been ignited inside her, and her face dissolved into a true, unconditional smile. The shards of her dream reassembled; the horror the Ash had tried to instill retracted, replaced by images of green meadows stretching infinitely and the playful sound of laughter.
The sadness gave way to an explosion of innocent joy. The stream beside them seemed to shine brighter, its clear waters reflecting her newfound serenity. Her small resonance extended outward, a faint, sweet melody of healing and recovered innocence, like a distant bell in the silence, washing over Kael with a wave of pure gratitude that left him momentarily ecstatic.
But Kael had made a mistake, an error dictated by his own goodness and the irresistible desire to help.
That small, concentrated resonance, that specific purification, was enough.
The Whispering One, whose grip on the Silent Ones had been loosened and whose "mind" had been distracted by the false trail of the Silent Guardian and the Ash's momentary retreat, perceived that new, distinct pulsation.
It was not the great dream beacon of the sleeping Kael, nor the energetic deception of Anya, but a faint, recognizable signal of active healing from a Guardian in the real world. It was Kael's dream signature, now no longer a vast signal from a body asleep, but a specific and unmistakable resonance emitted by a conscious act.
An instant was all it took. A single, clear localization, cutting through the background noise of the Dream Realm like a sharp knife.
The Silent Ones, still confused and wandering in the depths of the forest after losing the Silent Guardian's signal, received a new, unequivocal command, a clear and precise direction.
Their hooded heads snapped up, their empty eyes fixed. Their march resumed, inexorable. This time, the destination was not a feint, not a mirage.
It was the village of Aris.