Serran Dreamt about a serene forest, one where the Tribeship was once anchored a couple years ago. A cracked Treemother statue sat, graceful and serene despite its poor condition.

Malicious Dreamshades couldn’t reach him here, but Serran soon realized that it didn’t mean they wouldn’t try. Dreadful Dreamshade was a stubborn thing, and it showed her a vision of his Tribeship sinking and dead bodies floating in vacuum. He could see familiar faces, then. Mender Ashna, Lirien, Luthi’en, Ithiven… even the Tribeschildren and the swaddlings.

It was easily his greatest fear.

This is not real, Serran thought, shaking, and willed away the stubborn visions to no avail. The silence was too much. Too much.

It was then the Dreamer walked into view, inspecting their surrounding with grieving eyes, before waving his hand. Just like that, the visions were gone. The sunk Tribeship turned into towering arch, and the bodies into multicolored flowers. The sky turned from red to blue and grass sprouted from the darkened soil. The air itself smelled like rain, like spring. It reminded Serran of this one moon the Tribeship once landed on.

Serran always loved spring. Particularly, springtime on this moon.

“I know you do”, the strange Dreamer said, calm and somewhat comforting. It was curious, the way his presence alone made all of Serran’s fears go away.

“Thank you”, Serran said. “I didn’t know one can do that.”

“Not everyone can do that”, the Dreamer corrected. He looked around keenly, observing the hill and practically allowing Serran to observe him in turn.

He wore soft clothes, light blue in color, but his head was uncovered. His hair was dark as the Void itself, and silver coiled hairpin held his braids together. It looked like an owl face, if Serran could assume a guess. His feet were bare just like any other Free Alvons, and they made no sound as he walked over the grass. He looked so full of life, so different from his body, which had been lying in the healing cabin for two days now.

“Are your Dreams always like this?” the Dreamer asked.

“Sometimes”, Serran answered, quite surprised at the question. Not everyone wanted to ask about his Dreams. “Another time, I dream of purple sand beach where our Tribeship once was anchored for awhile. Or glimmering asteroid field made of diamonds. All I know for sure, they’re places I’ve visited before.”

The Dreamer stared at him, disbelief in his face, before shaking his head. Then, he extended his hand toward Serran.

“Let me show you something different, then”, he said. “Something you’ve never seen before.”

Serran took his hand, marveling at how his hand was bigger than his own, easily encompassing it whole. The Dreamer’s touch was gentle and feather-like, as if he was afraid he would break something. When he smiled, the laugh lines on his face became more prominent, and Serran couldn’t help but think about how handsome he looked.

“Where are we going?” Serran asked, as his cheeks heated up. Intents were hard to hide in the Dreamvoid, and he didn’t want to weird out the Dreamer, technically his patient.

“You will see”, the Dreamer answered, a mischievous smile curling on his lips.

A blink, and immediately their surroundings shifted. Things grew backwards — flowers reverting into buds and trees grew shorter, its trunk thinner. Days and nights passed in a blur and seasons changed in backwards. Spring first, then winter, then fall, then summer. Repeat. Serran watched as they went back in time, completely mesmerized, before everything seemed to come to a sudden stop.

It disoriented him for a moment, and another moment to realize where and when he was.

Fire raged around him, unnatural and blue, scorching the bloodied ground as people scrambled for survival. The blackened sky cracked open as the sun was cleaved in half, its core imploding into itself as it slowly turned into a voidstar. Imperial battlecruisers razed everything below from the orbit, incinerating anything and everything within its path. Screams of the dying, cries of the wounded, sounds of electricity crackling, bodies turning to ashes in an instant. So much death and destruction around him.

The healer within Serran quaked, his hands itched to help, to heal, to save, but it was just a dream, a memory. There was nothing he could to to change it at all.

He woke up with a jolt, and promptly clambered out of the healing cabin to retch in the latrine.

“I apologize. I shouldn’t have shown you that particular Dream, considering that you were disturbed by a Dreadful Dreamshade not a moment before”, the Dreamer said the next time Serran met him in the Dreamvoid. His green-gray eyes were downcast and he looked downright guilty.

“Apology accepted”, Serran replied. “That was the Alvamar, right? During the Cleaved Sun War one millennium ago? Was it— were you—?” Serran was unsure how to ask his question.

If it was a memory indeed, how come the Dreamer before him could visualize it so vividly?

“Was it the first time you Dreamshifted?” the Dreamer asked him.

“What’s that?” Serran asked.

“Dreaming normally has a basis from one Dreamer’s own memories. Dreamers cannot dream beyond what they have seen, or feel, or experienced”, the Dreamer explained, and well… Serran already knew this. But the Dreamer didn’t seem to be done with his explanation. 

“When Dreamers walk in the Dreamvoid, they can insert others’ visions, feelings, and experiences, creating a Dreamscape the Dreamer had never seen before. That’s called Dreamshifting. The vision shown by the Dreadful Dreamshade that you’ve seen… that could be called forced Dreamshifting.”

“Huh.” Serran didn’t know that. “I… did not know you can do that.”

“You can too, I suppose”, the Dreamer said. “Every part of the Universe is connected to the Cosmic Void, and from it, to the Dreamvoid. Every land, every moon, every asteroid, even voidstars — all have memories. When you Dreamwalk there, you may tap into them and see visions you could never have imagined before.”

“That sounds impressive”, Serran said in a hushed awe. “Although I suppose I can do without the reenactment of bloodied past.”

“If that is your preference”, the Dreamer said diplomatically, inclining his head slightly. “Although for me, I travel the Universe to find remnants of the past. Only by experiencing the past, I can find wisdom for the future ahead.”

“Like a Seer?” Serran asked curiously. If Dreamers were rare, Seers were practically a myth. It would be a big surprise if the Dreamer before him was one.

“More like a strategist”, the Dreamer said with a small chuckle-snort. “It helps when one is a wandering Chainsbreaker trying to make sense of the madness this Universe is steeped in.”

When Serran woke up, he headed toward the healing cabin and sat by the sleeping Dreamer’s bedroll. He wondered if the Dreamer always traveled alone, visiting dead stars and barren moons just so he could find Dreams long gone. Though he couldn’t claim to understand the way a wandering Chainsbreaker live, it sounded… very lonely.

Only then, it occurred to him that he still didn’t know the Dreamer’s name. It had been three Dreams.

He resolved to ask him the next time he Dreamt.