“What were you thinking?!” Mender Ashna said first thing in the meeting. Well, after Adri reported to her the whole thing that transpired, so not quite really the first thing.

Serran let out a sigh — he was tired, exhausted, from the healing he did on their way back to the Tribeship. He didn’t have time for this. The wounded Dreamer’s connection to the Dreamvoid still existed, but it was decaying by the second. The sooner Serran returned to his work, the higher the chance of the Dreamer’s survival.

“Don’t look at me. I told him you would disagree”, Adri said, hands raised in a placating gesture. Traitor.

“Either I heal him where it’s safe for both of us, or I stay behind to heal him and risk being discovered by more soldiers”, Serran told the Mender, his voice stern. “I will not turn my back to those who need me or my expertise. You both know this.”

Mender Ashna let out a sigh, before turning to Adri again.

“Has he been checked?” she asked.

“Thoroughly. Not a single tracker”, Adri answered. “Not sure if they put something in him, though. Can’t check that.”

“Good enough”, the Mender said.

—

Once the meeting was concluded, Serran took the wounded Dreamer to the healing cabin, settling him down on one of the available bedfurs before gathering his supplies. There were some methods to reverse the damage the electric pike did to the temporal lobe, but it was difficult and some of the damage might be irreversible. There could be lingering affliction and permanent scarring to his brain.

After ensuring the spells that stopped the bleeding was still working, Serran focused his attention to repairing the damage to the Dreamer’s temporal lobe. Occasionally, he would pour various healing concoctions into his mouth, including relaxing concoctions.

The Dreamer was still and unmoving, but Serran had closed his eyes so that he wouldn’t stare blankly to the world around him. That was honestly quite unnerving, even though Serran knew that the Dreamer would be unaware to everything. He was pale, paler than Serran himself, and it made the freckles on his face to stand out. Serran would’ve thought he had passed away somehow if not for his shallow breathing.

He didn’t know how long time had passed. The world seemed to narrow down to him and the Dreamer, as he cast spell upon spell. Mending the temporal lobe and the brain tissues took a lot of mana, and by the time the Dreamer was no longer in danger of being permanently brain-damaged, Serran’s own mana had been severely depleted.

Wiping sweat from his brows, Serran decided that it was good enough for a start.

Perhaps the next best course of action was to replenish himself, but the floor where he sat somehow felt very enticing. His limbs were shaking from exertion, and he was quite certain if he got up, he wouldn’t get very far before he collapsed. This was not the first time he had severely depleted his mana, anyway. His Tribesfolk would understand.

With a sigh, he curled into himself, next to where the wounded Dreamer was resting. It wasn’t long before he too fell asleep.

And Dreamt.

It was not the first time he walked in the Dreamvoid; the feeling was all too familiar as his bare feet touched the forest floor of the Alvon’s homeplanet — the Alvamar. 

The forest was different here compared to what Serran usually dreamed. The trees were younger, and the sunbeams broke through the canopy like heavenly light. There was still a sun. That made him realize that this was no usual Dream. No, this was a memory. One that was millennia old.

There was a statue of a two-headed owl perching proudly atop a stone pedestal. Serran recognized it immediately — his Tribeship had a similar one too, albeit smaller and less detailed. It was the representation of the Malevious Owl, used to be revered as the God of All Dreams — the name was all but forgotten, but the Alvon called HIM Anuvarta. Already, Serran felt infinitely safer being near it, as she knew that malicious Dreamshades would never gather around it.

That was when he noticed the wounded Dreamer. He walked by and examined his surroundings, before turning to face Serran. The Dreamer seemed surprised to see him there, but his expression quickly smoothed into a calm composure.

“It is you”, he said, his voice echoing slightly in the Dreamlike manner. “You’re the one who saved me.”

“You recognized me?” Serran asked, tilting his head.

“I felt your magic”, the Dreamer answered. “I was fatally injured, and could do nothing but slip into the Cosmic Void as my mind collapsed. Then, I felt your magic, healing my connection to the Dreamvoid where I could safely retreat. For that, I thank you.”

Serran didn’t quite know how to answer to such honesty from someone he didn’t know, but he smiled regardless. “Thank me again once you awaken”, he said.

“I will”, the Dreamer inclined his head, returning the smile.

Serran let out a hum before twirling on his toes. He loved to walk in the Dreamvoid, loved to marvel at the ever-changing world around him. Flowers sprouted and bloomed as he skipped by, and harmless Dreamshades flitted like butterflies. Trees reached up to the sky, where vines crawled up its trunk and lichens grew from its branches.

“It is so odd to meet another Dreamwalker”, the strange Dreamer spoke, breaking the silence. Serran stopped dancing and faced the Dreamer with wide smile on his face.

“Isn’t it?” he asked. “For years, I thought I was the only one. No one could understand this power of mine. Even the Mender advised me not to Dreamwalk so often, lest I attract malicious Dreamshades. Or demons. Whichever.”

He extended his hand. A wispy butterfly landed on his fingers, its wings fluttering, shaking off flecks of Voidlight. It didn’t stay long, and resumed its flight as it joined other butterflies. That was when he noticed the strange expression on the Dreamer’s face.

“You are a Freeperson”, the Dreamer said. That was not a question.

“Does that mean you are not?” Serran asked. He tried to not feel pity, but intents were hard to hide when one was in a Dream. The Dreamer’s expression turned sad.

“I was not, for the longest of time”, the Dreamer shook his head. “Why did you save me? You gain nothing saving a Chainsbreaker such as I.”

“You are injured, and I am a healer”, Serran answered without any hesitation. “There is no gain but a duty fulfilled.”

“It could be not that simple”, the Dreamer said. Again, not a question.

“It could be that simple.”