The heavy doors to the chamber groan as General Ye strides inside, his armour clanking against the silence. Beside the bed, a female attendant starts, her voice trembling. "General, Master Zhenyi has not yet stirred."
Her eyes widen as the doorway fills again. Ding Li, the Master's fifth apprentice, enters alongside Chancellor Wu. But it is the figure trailing behind them in a simple black robe that steals the breath from the room. The attendant's knees hit the floor instantly.
"Greetings, Your Majesty," she whispers, her forehead pressing against the cold stone.
Emperor *Li Qiang* glances at her with a sharp, calculating gaze. "Get up," he commands, his voice like grinding silk.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," she murmurs, rising but keeping her gaze fixed firmly on her toes.
Ding Li motions toward the exit. "You may leave us." The attendant peeks at the Emperor, and seeing his curt nod, she scurries out with a frantic, "Long live Your Majesty!"
The Emperor turns to the bed, his brow furrowed. He had arrived the moment he felt the Great Qi Dragon of his empire stir in its sleep. For a thousand years, the *Li* clan had ruled the Divine Land, their fate bound to the golden dragon. It was a blessing of absolute power, but a curse of the blood, because of the dragon's overwhelming presence, no member of the Li family could ever walk the path of a Dream Magician.
He looks toward Chancellor Wu. "Chancellor, you may proceed."
The Chancellor nods and sits at the bedside. He produces a small glass bottle from his sleeve, its contents obscured by a strange, shifting frost. He pops the cork and tips a silver-colored pill, nearly double the size of a standard medicinal pellet, into his palm. It releases a thick, metallic mist. As the scent hits Ding Li, the apprentice feels his exhaustion evaporate in an instant.
Wu feeds the pill to the unconscious Master and places a steady palm over the man's chest. He begins to circulate the cooling energy through Zhenyi's damaged spirit. Slowly, the deathly pallor leaves the Master's face, replaced by a faint, healthy glow.
As the last of the pill's power is absorbed, Chancellor Wu stands and retreats to his position behind the Emperor. Ding Li quickly fetches a chair, placing it softly beside the bed.
"Majesty, please," the apprentice offers.
Emperor Li Qiang takes his seat without a word. The room falls into a heavy, expectant silence as they wait for the man who saw too much to open his eyes.
A low gasp breaks the silence as Master Zhenyi's eyelids flutter and snap open. His gaze, once clouded by the silver mist of the pill, clears instantly upon seeing the black-robed figure sitting beside him.
"Your Majesty!" he cries, his voice cracking. Panic flares in his eyes as he scrambles to sit up, his weak limbs tangling in the silk sheets as he tries to climb down and kowtow.
Emperor Li Qiang reaches out, a single hand pressing firmly against Zhenyi's shoulder to pin him to the bed. "Rest, Master. Your service today has already cost you dearly. Tell me, what did you see?"
Zhenyi settles back, his chest heaving as he gathers his scattered thoughts. "The threads of destiny... they began to stir days ago, Majesty. It felt as if a new star was being born, one not recorded in any chart. Today, I attempted to divine the source. My vision was pulled across the Great Ocean, far beyond the civilised borders, into the Wild Land."
The room grows cold. General Ye and Chancellor Wu exchange a sharp look, their attention locking onto the frail magician. The Wild Land was a place of forgotten ruins and untamed spirits, a graveyard of fallen eras.
"I tried to pierce the fog," Zhenyi continues, his voice trembling. "I reached out to see the face of this change, but I was struck down. Something... something immense pushed back. It was like a titan swatting a fly. My spirit was nearly shattered by the mere contact."
Chancellor Wu's fan snaps shut, his face masking a rare flash of genuine shock. "Injured? Master Zhenyi, you are an Eighth Rank Magician. Your soul is a fortress. How can a mere divination target inflict such a wound?"
Zhenyi can only shake his head weakly. "I have no answer, Chancellor. I saw no face, only an abyss of power that felt older than the stars."
"The Wild Land," General Ye growls, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. "That cursed place has been silent for centuries. If a turmoil of this magnitude is brewing there, we cannot sit idle. Majesty, allow me to lead a vanguard to the Wild Land to investigate this 'source' before it grows."
The Emperor remains silent for a long moment, his eyes dark with the weight of the Empire. Finally, he nods slowly. "Prepare your men, General. But move with caution. If Master Zhenyi's spirit was wounded by a mere glance, your steel may find no purchase there."
Li Qiang stands, his black robes flowing like ink. "Rest now, Master. You have done enough."
One by one, the powerful men file out of the room, leaving the tower to its shadows. Exhaustion pulls at Zhenyi's mind like an anchor, and within minutes, he falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.
**
The forest floor is a jagged maze of roots and briars, tearing at their skin as they flee. *Claude's* breath comes in ragged, burning gasps. His blond hair is matted with dirt, and a deep crimson cut slices across his cheek, yet his blue eyes burn with a fierce, protective resolve every time he looks at the small girl stumbling beside him.
*Claudia* is a ghost of her former self. Her fine blue dress is shredded, and her fair face is pale with a bone-deep exhaustion that threatens to collapse her small frame.
Only a day ago, they were the pampered children of a Baron. Now, they are hunted orphans. The memory of the midnight assault on the castle, the clash of steel and the smell of smoke, is a phantom weight on their heels. The loyal guards who had helped them escape the initial slaughter had fallen one by one during the second ambush at their forest camp.
The baying of hounds echoes through the trees, growing louder, sharper.
"Faster, Claudia!" Claude urges, catching her hand and pulling her toward a moonlit rise.
As they scramble up the steep incline of a small hill, Claudia's foot catches on a loose stone. She hits the ground with a sharp cry of pain.
"Brother, I can't... my legs won't move," she sobs, clutching her bloodied knees.
Claude doesn't hesitate. He heaves her onto his back, his muscles screaming as he lunges toward the crest of the hill. But at the very top, disaster strikes. His boot snags on a thick, gnarled root. The world tilts.
They tumble together, a chaotic blur of limbs and dirt, rolling violently down the opposite side of the hill. They come to a bone-jarring halt at the mouth of a yawning cavern.
Claude staggers to his knees, his vision swimming. As the dim moonlight spills across the cave floor, his heart turns to ice. Skeletons, some human, many animal, are strewn across the ground like a macabre carpet. The stench of old death and cold stone fills his lungs.
"Brother..." Claudia whispers, her voice trembling with terror.
Behind them, the barking of the dogs reaches a fever pitch. They are nearly upon them. Claude stares into the impenetrable darkness of the cave. A ferocious beast surely claims this place as its larder, but the men with the hounds are a certainty of death.
Claude presses a trembling hand over Claudia's mouth, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "Shh!" he breathes, the sound barely a ghost of a whisper.
They lie perfectly still in the freezing shadows. Above the ridge, the frantic barking of the hounds reaches a crescendo, but the tone has shifted. It is no longer the baying of the hunt; it is the whimpering of prey. The masked men struggle to restrain the animals, who pull at their leashes, desperate to flee in the opposite direction.
The killers look down the slope, their eyes widening at the moonlit carpet of bleached white bone and splintered ribcages. A cold dread settles over them.
"Falling down there... they won't come out alive," one of the men mutters, his voice wavering.
His companion hums in dark agreement. Without another word, they turn their backs on the charnel house and retreat into the forest, their dogs yelping in relief as they vanish.
Inside the cavern, the silence is heavy and absolute. Claude exhales, the tension leaving his body in a rush, and turns to his sister. His blood runs cold. Claudia's eyes are closed, her breathing deep and rhythmic. She has fallen into a forced, unnatural slumber.
"Claudia! Wake up!" he hisses, panic surging.
In the wilderness, sleep is a death sentence. To dream without the protection of a Dream Barrier is to leave one's soul naked before the monsters of the Dream Side. He reaches out to shake her, but a sudden, irresistible wave of lethargy hits him. It is as if the very air in the cave is thick with a potent sedative. His eyelids turn to lead, his limbs lose their strength, and he collapses beside her, slipping into the dark.
*****
Claude snaps his eyes open, but the cave is gone.
He finds himself standing in an endless meadow of vibrant, swaying wildflowers. Butterflies with iridescent wings dance through the air, and a warm, golden sun bathes the world in the glow of a perfect paradise.
He stumbles back, his mind racing. He is in the Dream Realm; he knows this, but terror grips him for a different reason. He possesses no talent for magic; he should be a mindless wanderer here, a "sleeper" with no memory. Why is he conscious?
Suddenly, the sky itself seems to vibrate.
*"Intruders,"* a voice booms, resonant and cold, echoing from every direction at once. *"Why have you trespassed into my sanctuary?"*
Claude spins around, looking for the source of the power, his hand instinctively reaching for a sword that is no longer there.