Now I know—the visions from those sleepless nights were not dreams at all, but fragments of a road I had once walked.
Through Soren's eyes—my eyes—the savanna night opened wide, endless, breathing beneath the weight of a thousand stars.
Above, constellations curved like a painted vault, the Milky Way spilling in divine silence.
And the blue—so sharp in my mind—was born here.
I can still trace the arches, feel the cool hush beneath them, taste the strange relief that came even as fever scorched my skin.
They were not his steps alone. They were mine. They were the journey that carried me home.
****
The general arrived weeks after the letter was sent. His cloak was heavy with snow as he walked steadily through the gates. He listened quietly while the couple described Soren's condition, his face unreadable yet solemn.
Caelus entered the room and found him there—half sitting, half lying—propped up by goose-feather pillows near the fireplace. Soren's face lit up the moment their eyes met. He tried to rise, but Caelus moved quickly to steady him.
"Your hands are warm," Soren murmured, almost too soft to hear, as Caelus's hands cupped the boy's fragile face—now clean, exquisite, and delicate like porcelain.
"It really is you."
Caelus's deep brown eyes locked with Soren's—calm, searching.
"Your eyes have been watching me in countless dreams," he whispered. "But I know we've never met before. I'm sorry, General… my brothers and I received the kindness of your household with nothing to offer in return. It was shameless."
"Don't say that," Caelus replied. "My pendant meant you were under my house's protection. That makes you the master here."
His voice was low, almost reverent. His eyes never wavered.
"How have you been?"
Soren managed a small smile.
"I'll be better. This shall pass."
But they both knew what that meant.
Time would pass, yes—but not in the way they hoped.
Caelus stayed by Soren's side each day. He read him stories at night. They shared quiet conversations, sometimes broken by Soren's coughing fits. The fireplace became their sanctuary.
"I have a feeling we've known each other for a long time," Caelus said once, eyes fixed on the flames. "The rage I felt when I saw you in that dungeon… I should've come sooner."
"You saved me," Soren replied. "There are no words for this kind of gratitude. And I know… I won't be able to repay it in this life."
His cough worsened. His small frame grew more fragile.
One night, he asked Caelus for a promise—to protect his two brothers.
Caelus didn't hesitate. He knew Soren's couldn't feel easy without his promise.
The winter was getting colder, Soren hardly managed to sit on his bed, day by day.
On worst day his energy drain just to kept awake.
On one still morning, deep in winter, Caelus sat beside him.
Soren pressed the coin into his hand—returning it to its rightful owner.
Caelus held his hands gently, feeling how shallow the boy's breaths had become. He kissed his forehead. It still held the last warmth.
The general's shoulders shook as he fought to hold his grief.
Silas and Elias stood by the bedside. Their lips murmured the soul's release prayer.
They stepped forward, kissed their brother's forehead and both cheeks, guiding his soul with their prayers.
Then silence.
The boy's face, finally at peace, bore a faint smile.
He looked as if he had only fallen asleep—dreaming of stars
****
There was a lump in my throat, choking me.
Tears blurred my vision.
Caelus and Soren,
Kaelen and me.
The echo was too strong to be a coincidence.