Dreamscape Encounter
1342 Words
Chapter 28
Elion stood alone in the center of his private chamber. Moonlight from the twin orbs above his realm poured in through the arched windows, touching the stone walls like fingers from another world. Everything in the room was quiet—too quiet for what his heart was about to undertake.
He looked down at the small, glowing vial in his hand. Inside, the dream potion swirled like liquid stars—silver and blue, thick and luminous. His grandmother had warned him: dreams were sacred, fragile things. Especially when entering the mind of someone who didn’t know the truth.
But he wasn’t going there to reveal himself.
He just needed to be near her.
To offer her peace.
To feel her warmth again, even if only in shadows.
Elion raised the vial slowly. His throat was tight, his pulse steady but heavy. He whispered her name under his breath like a vow.
“Aria.”
Then he drank.
The potion burned cold on his tongue before flooding through his chest with the warmth of a thousand suns. The room tilted, the floor falling away from beneath him. Time bent. Space turned to mist. His body felt like light, like fire, like nothing at all.
And then—
whoosh.
He landed on soft ground, grass beneath his knees. The air was still, warm, and carried the sweet scent of lilac and rain. Above him, the sky was no longer his realm’s bleeding crimson but a midnight blue scattered with human stars. Trees rose around him—calm, swaying, whispering.
This was her dream.
Her sanctuary.
And for the first time, he was part of it.
Elion exhaled slowly, taking in the air of her world. He reached for the second flask tucked into his tunic—a thinner, paler vial. With a single sip, his true form began to fade, reshaped by the dream’s magic. His body shifted into a more human silhouette: lean, strong, timeless. His face softened into the kind of beauty dreams often gave strangers. Only his eyes remained unchanged—deep, ocean blue and glowing faintly, like twin lanterns in the dark.
And then, through the silver-touched trees, he saw her.
Aria.
She sat on a bench carved from dream-marble, her arms wrapped around her knees, her shoulders hunched like she was protecting something fragile inside her. Her head was tilted down. She picked at the hem of her long, flowing dress, lost in thought, lost in the weight of her own mind.
She looked like sorrow draped in moonlight.
Elion’s heart clenched. He’d heard her voice from afar, felt her ache through the veil. But here—seeing her, breathing the same dream air—it was almost too much to hold.
He stepped forward slowly, each footfall silent on the grass.
Aria felt it—before she saw him. A presence. A warmth.
She lifted her head, eyes still red at the edges. Then she saw him.
A stranger.
Or… not quite.
Their eyes met, and something passed between them—unspoken, unnamed. A recognition neither could place.
Elion paused a few steps away. “Hi,” he said gently, voice warm but soft enough not to startle. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Aria blinked. Her lips parted, but words didn’t come right away.
“You…,” she finally whispered. “You seem so… familiar.”
He smiled. “I’ve felt the same about you.”
She didn’t look away. Her heart, which had been weighed down all day, now beat faster—not with fear, but something closer to awakening.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Someone who wanted to see you smile again.”
A soft breeze passed, rustling the petals of the dreamlike flowers growing nearby. Elion stepped forward and knelt down in front of her, giving her the chance to move, to pull back. But she didn’t.
Instead, she looked into his eyes.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked, voice low.
He hesitated. “No. But I’ve… known of you for a while.”
Her brows furrowed, though not in alarm—more like curiosity.
“I don’t know your voice,” she said, almost to herself.
Elion’s lips twitched slightly. “Maybe you’ve heard it… somewhere. Maybe in your dreams before this one.”
Aria looked away briefly, then back at him. “Why does it feel like I’ve been waiting for this?”
“Because,” he said gently, “part of you probably has.”
They sat quietly under the moonlit tree. The dream world responded to her breath, her heart—trees blooming brighter, the stars shifting subtly as if drawn to her emotions.
She glanced down at her hands. “It’s been a rough few days.”
“I know.”
She looked at him. “How?”
“I can’t explain it,” Elion said, brushing his hand along the grass beside her. “But I could feel something wasn’t right. That you were hurting.”
Her eyes softened. “You say that like… like you care.”
“I do.”
She studied him closely. Her lips pressed together. “Why?”
Elion’s throat tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “Because some lights are too beautiful to ignore. Even from a distance.”
That made her blink back the sting in her eyes. She looked down, breathing slowly. “You’re… different.”
“So are you,” he said.
They stayed there, side by side, the distance shrinking inch by inch. Aria didn’t know how much time passed. The dream felt timeless. Safe. Whole.
She reached out without thinking and touched his hand.
It was warm.
Real.
He didn’t flinch. He just looked at her and whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?” she asked, surprised.
“For letting me sit with you. For letting me see you.”
She leaned against his shoulder. It felt like home.
“You feel safe,” she whispered.
Elion closed his eyes, the ache in his chest softening. “Then I’ve done something right.”
The garden held its breath for them—quiet, perfect.
Until…
A distant chime began to ring—light at first, like wind through crystal. Then steadier, louder.
Aria stirred.
“What is that?” she asked.
Elion looked toward the sky. It was beginning to fade into morning haze.
“It’s your world,” he said softly. “Calling you back.”
“No,” she whispered. “Not yet. Please.”
“I wish I could stay longer.”
She turned toward him. “Will I see you again?”
He brushed his knuckles along her cheek. “As long as you want me to come back… I will.”
The light grew stronger, the garden dissolving into silver mist.
Aria reached for him, pulled him close, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “Don’t disappear.”
“I won’t,” he whispered.
She held him with all the strength of someone clinging to something she feared would vanish.
And slowly, he began to fade from her arms.
Her final whisper barely reached him:
“Promise…”
His lips moved as he vanished.
“I promise.”
—
Aria woke with a soft gasp.
Her room was still dim, her alarm buzzing softly beside her. The air was cool. Her heart was racing.
She sat up slowly, brushing her fingers across her cheek. It felt warm, like someone had touched it.
She stared ahead, dazed… and smiling faintly.
“I don’t know who you are,” she whispered, “but please… come back tonight.”
She reached for her phone—not to call or text, just to hold it close.
Like she always did after he called.
But she never guessed.
Never knew.
That the voice in her ear…
and the one in her dream…
were the same man.
And Elion—on the other side of the realms—was already preparing for nightfall again.
- Writer
