Chapter 9. Our Dreams

Tension That Gives Birth to a Flare

Istar froze.

The air shifted — barely perceptible, yet enough to make his senses strain to their limit. The space itself seemed to tremble.

“You feel that?” he asked quietly.

Celia did not ask what he meant. Her gaze was already fixed toward the garden. From there emanated an unnaturally powerful Heiku — dense, unstable.

“Kairen?..”

“Yeah. And I don’t like it,” Istar replied shortly.

“Should I put up a barrier?”

“That would be good.”

Celia raised her hand. A thin, almost invisible veil of energy spread along the perimeter of the estate.

Five minutes.

Five long minutes until the flare of uncontrolled Heiku.

An unnatural silence filled the garden.

Kairen stood before Levan. He seemed more real than reality itself.

Laen silently stepped to his side.

“Your emotions have bound you through memories,” he said quietly. “And your refusal to accept reality is keeping him here.”

“He’s alive. He’s standing right in front of me,” Kairen did not look away.

“You’re thinking only about yourself,” Laen continued calmly. “You’re not hearing what he’s saying. Look closer. Listen. He’s asking you to let him go.”

Kairen stared at Levan’s lips. They were moving.

But there was no sound.

“You’ve shut yourself off from the truth again,” Laen said. “The moment you hear a bitter truth, you block everything out. Your emotional state has closed the channel.”

Kairen took a step forward.

He reached toward Levan’s shoulder.

“Why did I survive?..” he whispered faintly. “Why me? Why not you? I shouldn’t be here…”

And then—

“It was my choice.”

Kairen froze.

He heard it.

Finally heard it.

The very words he had never allowed himself to hear.

Pain tightened around his chest, stealing his breath.

“I have to go,” Levan smiled. “I’ll be watching over you. Always nearby.”

Laen stood slightly behind them.

“Kairen. Release your Heiku. Open the path for him.”

White energy began to form around Kairen. It twisted, condensed, expanded.

“Not all at once. Control it!” Laen stepped forward. “Don’t release everything—”

But Kairen was no longer here.

His mind drowned in pain, guilt, memories.

Light flared sharply.

Boom.

The burst of Heiku exploded in a wave of uncontrolled energy, tearing apart the garden’s silence.

“Restrain your Heiku, Kairen!” Laen shouted, trying to get closer and bring him back to his senses.

The force of energy repelled him, throwing him back. He tried to resist, but it was useless — his body would not obey, and Kairen heard nothing.

“Think what to do…” Laen strained his own Heiku. “If this continues, Hio will fill everything. There won’t be a living space left here.”

Hio — the soul filled with energy, both positive and negative. It interacts with Heiku, expanding the strength and potential of its bearer.

Laen attempted to use the Akyum technique — a special ability of the Aldkraine family that merges the user’s Heiku with the opponent’s Heiku. Successful application is only possible when the user’s power exceeds that of the target. Only then can it be brought under control.

“Akyum!” Laen shouted.

His Heiku burst outward, beginning to merge with Kairen’s energy.

But the volume of Kairen’s Heiku was far greater.

His Hio had already integrated with the power, forming an uncontrollable mass of energy.

A powerful surge flung Laen aside.

“Damn it…” He struggled to his feet, bracing himself on his hands.

“Why am I not surprised?” Celia smiled faintly. “I expected nothing else from you…”

“Ah, brother…” Istar was already standing beside Laen.

“I didn’t know his Hio was this unstable,” Laen said quietly.

“I’ll handle it,” Istar moved toward Kairen without hesitation.

Laen silently stood and stepped aside, watching.

Kairen’s Heiku continued to rage. Flashes of energy cut through the air and flooded the garden with light.

“Stand behind me,” Celia said calmly.

Laen did not argue and stepped back.

Istar slowly approached Kairen.

“We were gone only a few minutes, and you’re already causing chaos…” he smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m here.”

Kairen’s eyes were blank white from the Hio, his body trembling with uncontrolled energy.

“This might hurt a little,” Istar warned, releasing his own Heiku.

His power immediately began suppressing Kairen’s chaotic energy, stabilizing the Hio.

“Akyum.”

Sudden silence enveloped everything.

All sound vanished.

Space became empty, pure — as if nothing had ever existed.

Kairen stood within endless white.

And only a familiar voice cut through the silence.

“You did it…”

It was Levan’s voice.

Istar stood beside him.

“It’s all right. You can come closer,” he said.

Kairen slowly approached.

Istar placed one hand on his shoulder, supporting Levan with the other.

“You will always be connected. Even if you don’t see him — he will always be in your heart,” Istar said quietly.

“We’re friends forever…” Levan extended his hand. “Your dreams are mine. Mine are yours.”

Kairen grasped it.

“One world for two,” he smiled.

“Yes. One,” Levan replied.

And in that very moment, Levan dissolved into light.

As did Kairen.

Kairen opened his eyes.

Istar was holding him, carefully studying his face.

“All good?” he asked.

“I think… yes,” Kairen answered softly, feeling the chaos finally subside.

He fell asleep almost instantly — his body could no longer endure the exhaustion.

But for the first time in a long while, it was not a heavy, suffocating sleep.

It was peace.

In his dream, they were sitting together again. Talking about nonsense. About dreams.

Kairen laughed — sincerely, in a way he hadn’t laughed in a long time.

Levan argued, insisting his dream would definitely come true. Because if you truly believe in something — it becomes reality.

The morning was warm.

Sunlight flooded the yard.

As if nothing had ever happened.

Could anything bad really happen?.. Kairen thought in his dream, gazing at the clear sky.

Grandfather called from the house.

His baked apples were already waiting on the table — fragrant, sweet, dusted with cinnamon.

Warmth.

Food.

Laughter.

Emotions that made his chest ache.

Kairen wanted only one thing — for it never to change.

For this moment to last forever.

Istar carefully laid the exhausted Kairen on the bed. His breathing became steady.

Celia quietly sat beside him.

“Will you watch over him?” Istar asked.

“Don’t worry,” she answered gently. “I’ll stay by his side.”

Istar nodded and was about to leave the room when he suddenly stopped.

He turned back.

“Thank you… for everything,” he said more softly than usual. “Thank you.”

There was no usual irony in his voice.

Only sincerity.

Celia smiled warmly, brightly — like the sun itself.

“Our gratitude is mutual. Don’t worry. I will always be here.”

Calm appeared on Istar’s face. And something else — almost imperceptible, yet real.

“Yes…” he replied quietly and left the room.

Celia remained beside Kairen’s bed, watching him sleep peacefully — for the first time without pain.

We run forward — toward the world.

We run, hoping to fix the mistakes that tighten around our throats.

Our past is a chain.

We are like birds longing to fly, yet forgetting that we have wings.

Can I change the world?

No.

Even if I could — people are the world. And the world does not always need saving. Sometimes help only wounds more deeply.

My selfish desire to make life better… only complicates it.

So what can I change?

What do I have the right to change?

Istar always thought about what was right.

His burden is heavy.

He suffocates beneath the expectations of those close to him.

He does not want to see disappointment in their eyes.

He does not want to see pain.

And that is what slowly destroys him.

Istar descended the stairs. Laen was already waiting for him below.

“How is he?” Laen asked quietly.

“He’s fine. Don’t worry. It’s not your fault,” Istar stopped in front of him. “He’s a special case. We’ll tell Father it was my mistake. All right?”

He smiled lightly, as though it were something trivial.

“But that’s not true…” Laen replied sadly.

“I’m your older brother. I’ll handle everything,” Istar placed a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me.”

And embraced him.

“I’m not a child,” Laen muttered, but he did not pull away.

Istar smiled softly.

“Will you help Celia? I have something to take care of. Can I count on you?”

“Of course, brother,” Laen’s voice was confident.

“Good.”

Istar headed toward the estate’s exit.

Laen watched him go.

His admiration for his brother was sincere and deep.

For him, Istar was an example.

Not just an example.

But his most precious brother.

Silence filled the room.

Soft, calm — as if the space itself feared disturbing the moment.

Kairen slowly opened his eyes. Consciousness returned cautiously, like a wave that touches the shore and retreats at once.

Celia sat beside him.

Her light eyes and snow-white hair, illuminated by the sunlight, made her seem almost unreal. The soft glow wrapped around her silhouette, and in that moment she truly resembled an angel.

Kairen whispered faintly:

“Angel…”

And reached out to her.

Celia immediately took his hand in both of hers. Her touch was warm and gentle — calm like the sky itself.

“You did well, Kairen,” she said softly.

Her voice was so tender that it became easier to breathe.

Kairen looked at her for a moment longer.

There was no longer a storm in his eyes.

Only fatigue… and peace.

His eyelids grew heavy again.

He slowly fell asleep.

And Celia did not let go of his hand — as if guarding his rest.