The Dream Realm, the world where all dreams are born, is dying.
A strange dark plague is spreading like poison - devouring the brightest dreams and leaving behind only nightmares and desolation.
Even in the waking world, people can feel it: no one c...
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The light did nothing, it vanished against the darkness of the being's cloak as if it had never existed. But its rage was palpable. "Impudent!" it growled. Its skeletal hand moved with unnatural speed, clawing at the air toward Kael. He felt a sharp sting in his chest, as if his own heart had been seized and squeezed.
A wave of painful memories flooded him: the blurry images of Elara struggling, his own impotence, the crushing weight of failure. The dark being was attempting to destroy what remained of his dream, to finish the job.
Kael fell to his knees, clutching his chest, his breath dying in his throat. It was over. His adventure in this place had lasted less than a breath...
He woke up with a void in his chest, as if someone had taken a piece of his heart.
The same nightmare.
Again.
He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated: his surroundings blurred, and an arid expanse began to appear, with dry shrubs here and there, and the grassy paths of the past turned to dust.
He stopped concentrating: his Dream Garden vanished while his surroundings reappeared in all their solidity.
He was eighteen years old when it happened.
Once, that inner landscape was a lush grove, steeped in the bittersweet scent of memories of his younger sister, Elara.
She wasn't dead, not physically.
A shadow had stretched over her, a silent illness that had stolen her smile and, finally, her consciousness, leaving her in a deep sleep from which the healers found no way to wake her.
Kael had always held tight to the memory of her crystal-clear laughter, her curious eyes, and the tiny hands that clung to him.
They were his strength, his light in a world that had never been kind. She had a vitality beyond the ordinary, even compared to children her own age.
But then, one day, the garden became arid after a slow drying process.
"I don't even remember her laughter anymore..."
The months turned into a year.
He had stopped counting.
In his mind, only a vague, indistinct tinkling remained, as if the part of him that loved her had been cut away.
The moment had arrived.
Kael crossed the threshold of the small room housing his sister; the smell of lavender and disinfectant tightened his throat.
Elara lay motionless in the bed. Beside her, intent on changing the wet cloth on the girl's forehead, was Sister Miriam, a woman in her fifties, her face marked by fatigue but illuminated by kind eyes.
He stood there, rigid, his fists clenched. It was the first time he had returned in nearly a month.
"It's been weeks. How is she?" Kael asked in a low voice.
