Aramoor glowed gold beneath the late sun as Dream and Erias crossed its brilliant stone thoroughfares. The boy walked close beside Dream, clinging to the excitement and terror of the city. Every towering building, every priest chanting prayers, every merchant shouting bargains it was all new to him.
Dream walked quietly, every step feeling the tremble of dream-corruption beneath the city. It was subtle now a breath, a pulse, a whisper. Soon it would not be subtle.
Finally, they reached a smaller side street lit by warm lanterns. There stood a three-story inn carved from cedar wood and white stone, with vines wrapped around its pillars. The sign above the door read:
"THE HEARTH OF QUIET DAYS."
A strange name for an inn in such a riotous city.
Dream stepped inside.
Erias followed, eyes huge.
The lobby was simple yet warm: painted murals, soft rugs, and a gentle fire crackling in the hearth. Behind the wooden counter stood a man who looked barely older than twenty-five.
His hair shone faintly gold. His eyes held soft starlight. And his aura trembled like a divine spark on the edge of awakening.
A young god.
One with very few followers.
He looked up
and froze.
His breath hitched. The divine flame beneath his skin flared. His eyes trembled with shock and awe.
"…Dream?" he whispered.
Dream smiled faintly.
"Hello, Aelus."
Erias blinked. "You two… know each other?"
Dream answered before Aelus could speak.
"From a very old time."
Aelus stepped around the counter, looking suddenly more like a child than a god.
"I thought you had left us forever. Before the pantheon shaped the seas … you vanished."
Dream's gaze softened. "I walk only where I'm needed."
Aelus bowed deeply.
"You are always needed. You always have been." He straightened and gestured proudly. "Please stay here. My inn is humble, but you may take the finest room I have."
Erias let out a small gasp as Aelus led them up the stairs.
The room he opened was far better than the outside suggested:two soft beds draped in rich fabrics, polished floors, lanterns of glass and silver, a balcony overlooking the city, and a long table filled with fruit, bread, and steaming tea.
Erias rushed inside, eyes wide.
"A noble could live here!"
Dream nodded in approval.
Aelus watched with a soft smile, then turned to Dream.
"Will this suffice?"
"For the boy, yes," Dream said quietly. "But I need a place of privacy. Somewhere no one enters. No mortal. No divine. No curious ear."
Aelus blinked.
"Why? What do you?"
Dream's gaze silenced him.
Aelus swallowed, then nodded quickly.
"I understand. Come."
He led Dream down a hallway and into a small office lined with maps and ledgers. There was a desk, two chairs, and shelves stuffed with scrolls. It was clearly a place Aelus often worked alone.
"No one enters here," Aelus said. "You may use it in peace."
Dream nodded once.
"Thank you."
Aelus bowed again and closed the door behind him.
Dream was alone.
The air dropped in temperature. Shadows flickered. The boundary between realms thinned like stretched silk.
Dream raised his hand.
"Seros."
The candles went out.
The room filled with soft silver mist.
Seros emerged from the haze, robes shimmering with threads of dreams. Her eyes were sharp, urgent.
"My lord," she said. "Your summons reached me instantly."
Dream stepped closer.
"You told me half the traitor's legion walks this world."
"Yes," she said. "Five hundred dream-born corrupted beyond recognition."
"And the other half prepare for a breach."
"Correct."
Dream's expression hardened.
"Then we escalate."
Seros straightened, sensing the shift in his tone.
"Your command?"
"Raise an army," Dream said. "Not one thousand."
Seros's eyes widened.
"How many?"
"Two thousand."
A tremor passed through the office, as though the dream realm itself reacted to the number.
"My lord…" Seros whispered. "Two thousand dream-born…."
Dream nodded.
"I know."
Seros tried to process it.
"We will outnumber the traitor four to one."
"We must," Dream said. "Because numbers will not win this war. Corruption is stronger than mere strength."
Seros drew a sharp breath.
"And their leader?"
Dream's eyes darkened like eclipsing suns.
"The traitor escaped my throne. It has tasted Fallen power and Ellas's whispers. It will not be defeated easily."
Seros bowed her head.
"I will gather the army. Two thousand ready to march. And we will strike the traitor's forces in the dream realm before they complete their ritual."
Dream raised a hand.
"And Seros…"
She looked up.
"Choose only those who have no cracks," Dream said. "Not a single dream-born with weakness. The corruption spreads through doubt."
Seros nodded.
"Yes, my lord."
She stepped back, dissolving into mist.
The room grew quiet.
Dream let out a breath he had held for too long.
Outside the office door, the world was ordinary. A young god arranging towels. A boy eating fruit on a balcony.A city of mortals preparing for the night.
Inside the office
War was being set in motion.
A war no mortal would understand.A war between dream and corruption.Between loyalty and the Fallen.Between everything that must remain…
…and everything that must be erased.
Dream closed his eyes.
The city trembled beneath him.
And so did fate.