Dream

Khem's P.O.V:

I'm tired.

So tired.

I'm so sick and tired of being here, of running, of fighting—of breathing.

Rampheung has me in her clutches now. Her tree—her monstrous, living prison—has wrapped itself around me, tightening with each labored breath I take. The bark bites into my skin, rough and cold, smelling of damp earth and decay. My arms are pinned, my legs useless beneath the tangled roots that seem to pulse with her hatred.

I came here prepared to end it all. To finally stop running.

But I didn't want Jett or Charn to see how broken I really was. I didn't want their last memories of me to be clouded with despair. So, I smiled. I told them I believed everything would work out fine—even as my chest ached with the truth I refused to say. I wanted them to have a little peace before I disappeared.

And now, here I am.

The day I'd been warned about—the day the curse catches up to me—has finally come. And strangely, I find some comfort in knowing.

Knowing what would kill me, knowing why this shadow has haunted my family for generations.
If it hadn't been for Jett, Peem, and Charn, this day would've arrived much sooner. They delayed the inevitable, gave me borrowed time. But no matter how much we fought it, Rampheung's wrath is too strong.

My life was already preordained.

Still, that doesn't make it any less terrifying to stand here, completely immobilized, in front of Rampheung's sneering face—her eyes gleaming like wet obsidians under the dim light filtering through the canopy.

She offers me two choices, her voice sickly sweet and cold as river stone: a quick and painless death, or one that will make me beg for mercy before the end.

It's almost funny—her pretending to be merciful.
"I'll take the quick one," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "I'm tired of suffering."

A vine slithers down from the branches above, twisting into an oval shape before me—an unmistakable noose made of living green. I can almost hear the faint rustle of leaves whispering my name, coaxing me toward my end.

So this is how it ends. Not by Rampheung's claws, but by my own hands.

I was hoping she'd simply take my soul—pull it out and crush it like she did to the others. But no. She wants me to do it myself. She wants to watch me surrender.

Maybe, when it's over, I'll be reborn into a family untouched by curses. Maybe I'll get to live a simple, ordinary life. Maybe... I'll finally rest.

I'll finally know what it means to breathe.

I grab the vine with trembling hands. It's slick and warm—alive. My heart thunders in my chest as I lift it, ready to slip it over my head.

And then—
"Khem! Don't give up!"

The voice slices through the silence like a blade.

I turn, disbelief freezing me mid-breath.

It's him.

Peem.

Even though I left him, even though I was sure I'd never see him again—he's here. His eyes are burning with determination, his body glowing faintly with light that pushes back the darkness around us.

"Khem," he calls again, stepping closer. "This is your dream. You can cast out whatever you don't allow to exist in it."

His words echo through my mind. My dream.

He's right.

Somewhere deep inside, a flicker stirs—a fragile ember that refuses to die. I focus on it, forcing myself to remember the faces of those I love: Jett's playful smile, Charn's strong sense of justice, Peem's warm brown eyes. The warmth of the moments we shared before all of this madness.

I summon that warmth, that love, and push against the darkness.

The tree shudders. The vines around me loosen. Then, with a splintering groan, they release me completely.

Rampheung's eyes widen with fury. "You'll regret this," she hisses, her voice twisting like wind through dead branches. "I tried to be merciful—but now, I won't hold back."

And with that, she vanishes into the shadows, leaving behind the echo of her rage.

My knees give out. Peem rushes forward, catching me before I hit the ground. His arms wrap around me, warm and solid, grounding me in the moment.

"I give up," I choke out, tears spilling freely now.

"I give up, Peem. I'm so tired of everything."

He hugs me tighter, his voice a whisper against my ear. "You can't give up, Khem. You have to live. You have to survive—for your parents, for Jett, for Charn... and for me."

His words pierce through the exhaustion, through the despair, through everything that's been crushing me. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel something flicker back to life inside me.

Hope.

Peem's arms don't let go. His heartbeat drums steadily against my chest, the only sound grounding me in this strange, fading world between dream and nightmare. For a moment, I forget how to breathe.

The air around us hums softly — the tension, the fear, all of it melting into something gentler. The forest, once alive with Rampheung's malice, is quiet now. The vines have gone still, the air heavy with rain and earth.

"Peem..." I whisper, my voice trembling. "Why did you come back for me?"

He pulls back just enough for me to see his face — his eyes shimmering with that same stubborn warmth that has saved me more times than I can count. "Because I couldn't let you go," he says softly. "Not when you've fought this long. Not when I—" He stops himself, as if the next words are too heavy to speak.

My breath catches. I reach up, my fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin is warm, so alive that it makes my chest ache. I realize how long I've been surrounded by things that only wanted to destroy me — and how foreign it feels to be held by something, someone, who wants me to live.

"Peem..." I whisper again, but before I can say more, he leans in.

The world seems to stop.

His lips meet mine — soft, hesitant at first, as though he's afraid I might shatter. But then the kiss deepens, slow and trembling, carrying every word we've left unspoken. The exhaustion, the pain, the fear — it all slips away, replaced by the warmth of him.

It isn't just a kiss—it's a promise.

A promise that even in the darkness, there's something worth holding onto.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. We're both breathing hard, but for once, it isn't from fear or pain.

"You're not alone anymore," Peem murmurs.

"Not in this world, and not in any dream."

I close my eyes and nod, letting the weight of his words sink into me. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, I allow myself to believe him.