Kael's hand kept itching.

It wasn't an annoying itch, but a subtle sensation, a lingering vibration that came from deep within his bones.

He returned to the hardware shop with the deliveries, his face twisted into a grimace that Uncle Borin took for fatigue. "Long day, boy?" the man asked, his voice gravelly yet kind.

Kael nodded, avoiding his gaze.

He didn't know how to explain what he'd experienced at the fountain. How could he describe an invisible spark, a flash of vision, and the scent of flowers that didn't exist, to a man who thought of dreams only as the tangled patterns of the night, not as real gardens that could be nurtured or destroyed?

For the next few days, Kael tried to ignore the incident. His practicality was a thick armor, forged by years of disappointment and the harsh reality of his neighborhood.

'It's just a coincidence... An illusion born from that girl's despair, and my own weary mind,' he kept telling himself.

But the spark wouldn't leave him. Every time he saw someone burdened with sorrow, or sensed the shadow of a sick dream, his palm tingled.

He began touching random objects- a splintered piece of wood, a rusted old key- hoping to recreate the feeling, but nothing happened.

A few days passed. More failures. Kael was running out of patience. He decided to go back to the fountain, not to sit, but to search.

'Why is that glow in my dream garden now? Ever since I touched that girl's dream fragments... that spark has come back.'

That mystery kept his mind restless.

It wasn't a place he visited often, too far from his usual route, but curiosity, that spark he'd believed long dead, was pushing him there.

He didn't find the little girl.

But as he sat on the stone ledge, an elderly woman with a dark scarf covering part of her silvery hair and wise eyes approached, clutching in her hands an amber pendant that seemed to contain a murky mist. Her face was furrowed with worry lines.

"Ah, a lonely young man," the elderly woman murmured, sitting beside him. "What troubles you? I sense a certain... emptiness in you."

Kael looked at her, startled by her insight. "Just thoughts," he said, his voice measured.

"Heavy thoughts make dreams fragile," she said, stroking her pendant. The wrinkles beside the woman's eyes deepened as she lifted it onto her palm and stared at it, trying to bring it into focus.

She raised her head, a lock of gray hair falling across the left side of her face, her gaze lost in the void for a few seconds.

"I saw you the other day, with that little girl... I sensed something, but I didn't quite understand what."

Kael felt a sudden emptiness in his stomach. He held his breath. Then he recognized the dark scarf.

She turned toward him: "This, for example. It was my dream of seeing an old friend again, of traveling to the south. Now it is... like this. Clouded by too many disappointed expectations, too many years." It was a damaged dream, not broken, but clearly on the verge of giving way.

Without thinking twice, Kael, feeling the tingling in his palm, reached out and, with an almost imperceptible touch, brushed the pendant. A surge, stronger than the previous one, shot up his arm.

This time, the vision was clearer, more vivid.

It wasn't a single image, but a rapid sequence: a dusty road under a scorching sun, the outline of an ancient city on the horizon, and a smiling man reaching out his hand. The scent of myrtle and jasmine filled his senses. It was the old woman's dream of travel and reunion.

It lasted only a heartbeat, then vanished.

But this time, Kael felt a warmth spreading through the pendant, and the amber mist within it cleared slightly, revealing a faint glimmer.

The old woman gasped. Her eyes widened. "By the Flames of Dreams!" she exclaimed. "What have you done, boy? For a moment... I felt the southern air, I almost saw Marek's face!" Her fingers trembled as she touched the pendant, and a tear rolled down her cheek. It was not a tear of sorrow, but of wonder.

Kael withdrew his hand, his heart pounding in his chest. This time, there was no doubt. It hadn't been an illusion. He had felt her dream, and he had done something. Something small, almost insignificant, but it had moved an energy.

"I... I don't know," Kael stammered, feeling trapped.

The old woman observed him intently.

"Are you a Keeper of the Dormant Fire?" she asked, her voice now low and reverent.

"It is a rare gift, a blessing. But also a burden."

Kael had never heard those words before: 'Keeper of the Dormant Fire.'

"I'm nothing like that," he said. "It was just a touch."

The old woman smiled sadly. "The touch of a few can reignite the flame of many, young man. But you must be careful. Not everyone wishes for dreams to be mended, especially those who profit from their ruin."

Before Kael could ask what that meant, the old woman stood up. "Thank you for awakening the pendant and making me remember so clearly, and feel those emotions again," she said, and walked away.

A few days passed, and his attempts failed again.

Increasingly frustrated, he decided to return to the fountain and find the woman. 'She was there once, and she was watching me when I spoke to the little girl; that makes twice... maybe she lives near the fountain,' he thought.

As he approached the square, determined to learn more and lost in his own reasoning, he saw her sitting on the same stone ledge, her gaze fixed on the fountain. She was alone. He approached before he could talk himself out of it. "Third time's the charm, it seems..."

The woman looked up and, after a moment of surprise, answered: "Good day, young man..."

"I was looking for you!" said Kael.

"Me?"

"Yes, last time you left in a hurry... I wanted to ask you... Why does nothing happen when I touch objects? I've been trying for days, but nothing, yet with the little girl and with you, there was the spark."

She looked at him with a slight smile and her head tilted, then replied:

"Seek the Academy of Shattered Dreams. They will know what to do with your gift."

"Gift? What gift?" Kael asked.

"What happened with me is also what happened with the little girl the other day, isn't it? Well... if you can sense what dreams were like before they faded, if you can make us sense them, then perhaps you might also be able to repair them... that is the gift."

"But... I don't know... I have no idea how it works exactly... And why me? Why should I repair other people's dreams?" he asked. 'Why should I, when my dream of having Elara back the way she was before the illness doesn't matter to anyone? I'm no benefactor...' Kael thought.

"Perhaps one day the good you do will come back to you... perhaps because it's right to help when you can..."

Kael sighed. "Where do I find this academy?"

"Perhaps it will find you..."

Kael frowned. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"But be cautious: the Dark Guardians are everywhere. And sometimes, even someone who seems like an ally can hide their own motives," the woman added.

"Dark Guardians? What are they? And who would pretend to be an ally?" The woman shook her head. "Not here. Not now. Just be careful."

'Dark Guardians, Academies of Dreams, gifts... what is she going on about? But... but it's the second time the visions have manifested with her, and hers lasted longer...'

The woman had already vanished into the crowd, once again leaving Kael alone with the weight of new, staggering questions.

But the woman's words, however cryptic, had given him something the little girl's fragments had not: a name.