The air vibrated with the dry scent of sun-baked earth, the rustling of olive leaves, and the distant echo of an aulos. For the second time since the figure in her dreams had reappeared, Josephine found herself immersed in a completely new dreamscape. Far from the ancient Japan of their first encounter, now familiar England had vanished, replaced by the evocative atmosphere of ancient Greece. She was enveloped in a linen tunic that billowed in the gentle breeze coming from a deep blue sea.
In the heart of a small sanctuary hidden in a forest clearing, surrounded by slender cypresses and the sweet fragrance of jasmine, Artemis awaited her. Just as in her first dreamlike reunion, the essence she had always associated with Kenji manifested in this form of earthly and magnetic beauty. Her dark hair, gathered in a braid adorned with laurel leaves, framed a face with high cheekbones and full lips, and her eyes, of an intense green speckled with gold, looked at her with an intensity that made her feel vulnerable and yet inexplicably safe. *It is him,* Josephine thought, the certainty solidifying with the repetition of the encounter, despite the changed form. *It is Kenji.* The same visceral connection, the same deep longing that had overwhelmed her in her previous dream, now enveloped her with an unsettling familiarity, intensified by the palpable sense of a shared secret, of a tacit prohibition that floated in the air.
A few steps away, Artemis felt the same pang of recognition that had assaulted her in her first dreamlike encounter upon seeing Josephine in her dreams. *She is,* she thought, her heart beating with a mixture of longing and an even greater apprehension, now that the encounter was repeated in a new setting. The form was different from the first night, but the essence, the unique vibration that drew her with an undeniable force, remained unchanged. This time, the fragility and ethereal beauty of the young woman moved her deeply. Josephine, with her pale skin that contrasted with the darkness of her deep eyes and her dark brown hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, radiated a delicacy that Artemis yearned to protect with fervor. *A lily among thorns,* Artemis thought, feeling a possessive desire grow within her, accompanied by the sharp fear that this ephemeral encounter would vanish with the dawn of the dream.
They approached slowly, as if each step were laden with transcendent meaning, marked by the awareness that this was forbidden territory, an encounter stolen from reality in a new and evocative backdrop. The air between them vibrated with an almost tangible tension, a mixture of contained desire and the constant fear of being discovered, of their dreamlike secret being exposed to the gazes of the world. This second encounter felt more intimate, more charged with a silent urgency, tinged with the awareness of a forbidden bond that united them in the clandestinity of the dream, under the sun of ancient Greece. *May the gods grant us this moment,* Artemis prayed inwardly. *I feel her presence like the warm breeze in summer,* Josephine thought, with a mixture of longing and a sharp curiosity, watching Artemis move with a feline grace towards her.
Artemis's fingers brushed Josephine's outstretched hand, a fleeting but electric contact that ignited the same spark of longing she had felt in her previous dream. The warmth of her skin, despite the ethereal nature of the dream, felt so real, so yearned for in this new context. Their gazes intertwined, deep and charged with a silent language that seemed to have continued right where they had left off in their previous encounter. In the green eyes, Josephine recognized the same desperate need for this furtive meeting, the same longing that she felt beating in her own chest. *Her green eyes are deep pools where my soul is reflected,* Josephine thought, feeling a connection that transcended logic. Artemis, in turn, lost herself in the vulnerability of Josephine's dark eyes, feeling the fragility of their secret and the undeniable strength of the connection that united them despite the dreamlike barriers, in this new and fascinating setting. *In her dark pupils I see my reflection, a soulmate in a labyrinth of forms,* Artemis thought, pausing to scrutinize every detail of Josephine's face, the curve of her lips, the faint blush on her cheeks.
"Kenji..." Josephine whispered, the name escaping her lips with an even greater certainty than in her previous dream, an intuition that had strengthened with the repetition of the encounter in a new place, transcending the form she saw. Artemis smiled, a soft and melancholic curve on her full lips. *She knows,* she thought with a mixture of amazement and a pang of fear at the depth of their connection that persisted through the changing scenarios of their dreams. *His name is a familiar echo in this strange world,* Josephine thought, feeling the barrier between dream and reality blur, as her fingers intertwined timidly with Artemis's.
"Our meeting..." Artemis began, her voice melodious like the sound of a solitary flute, but laden with a veiled sadness that resonated in the young woman's soul, in this new and ancient setting, "...always woven in the twilight, like a forbidden verse that lips dare not utter in the light of day. Your eyes, Helena, are stars that illuminate this furtive night."
*Now in this encounter I am called Helena,* Josephine thought, although the name did not leave her lips. Artemis seemed to grasp the idea, a slight surprise crossing her face before a soft smile returned to her lips. "And you... what are you called here?" Josephine asked, curiosity slightly overcoming her shyness, as her eyes traced Artemis's face, lingering on the braid adorned with laurel leaves. *A new name for this new world,* Josephine thought, feeling a strange familiarity with the word she was about to hear.
"Here... they call me Artemis," the woman replied, her voice deep and sweet at the same time, like the echo of an ancient legend. "But although in our encounters I have different names and different aspects just like you, our souls will continue to recognize each other like wandering stars that find their constellation, until our encounters transcend the barrier of dreams, like divine nectar that intoxicates mortal existence." *May my words reach her like golden arrows,* Artemis wished, gently squeezing Josephine's hand. *Her voice is ancient music, a language my soul understands without ever having heard it,* Josephine thought, feeling a deep resonance with each syllable, as her thumb caressed the back of Artemis's hand.
Their words floated in the warm air, laden with the weight of a forbidden relationship, an intense bond that they had to keep hidden, far from the inquisitive gazes of a world that would not understand their unique connection, now under the sun of Hellas. In this dream of ancient Greece, Helena and Artemis were clandestine lovers, forced to meet in secret in a secluded sanctuary, where the ancient gods were the only silent witnesses to their persistent longing in this new dreamlike backdrop. *This place feels sacred, like a temple dedicated to this secret of ours,* Josephine thought, feeling a mixture of reverent fear and sweet anticipation, as her eyes followed Artemis's movement towards a fountain of crystal-clear water. *This garden is our secret Olympus,* Artemis thought, where time stands still and only the melody of our souls exists, guiding Josephine towards the fountain, where the light of the nascent moon was reflected on the surface.
Artemis released her hand and leaned down, scooping water in the hollow of her hands. She offered the water to Josephine with a tender gaze. "Drink, my soul. The path to this encounter has been long, even if we only traverse it in the realm of Morpheus."
Josephine drank, feeling the fresh and pure water revitalize her. "Every encounter with you feels like a return to a forgotten home," Josephine replied, her voice barely a whisper, as she returned Artemis's green-eyed gaze. *I feel like I've known her forever, despite seeing her in different forms in each dream,* Josephine thought, a pang of mystery stirring her heart.
Artemis smiled, a melancholic sadness in her lips. "And every farewell, Helena, is like an exile. But as long as the dream grants us these moments, we will treasure them like the most precious treasure." She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from Josephine's face. "Speak to me, beloved. What worries does your heart bring from the waking world?"
Josephine hesitated for an instant, the shadow of her daily concerns trying to creep into the serenity of the dream. "There are... confusions. Memories that resurface, people who return to my life bringing unanswered questions." *I feel like I'm on the verge of understanding something important, but the fog hasn't cleared yet,* Josephine thought, feeling the weight of uncertainty.
Artemis took her hands in hers, her green eyes shining with a deep understanding. "The shadows of the past often try to obscure the present, my Helena. But remember that the light of truth always finds its way. Trust your heart, for it knows the path." She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Josephine's forehead. "Until the dream unites us again, my shooting star. Keep the warmth of this encounter in your memory."
The image began to fade slowly, the colors of the sanctuary losing intensity, the sound of the aulos blurring in the distance. Josephine felt Artemis's presence gradually vanish, leaving behind a sense of longing and a growing certainty: this dreamlike bond was much deeper than she had ever imagined. *I will return to you, Kenji... I will return to you, Artemis,* Josephine thought, clinging to the unspoken promise of their next encounter in the labyrinth of dreams.
Somewhere in this vast world, in his room, a person awoke from his magical encounter. The scent of jasmine and damp earth lingered in his nostrils, the sensation of the soft touch of another hand still vibrated in his own, and the current of emotions, a mixture of longing and a deep peace, persisted even though he had already awakened from his dreams. *What a vivid dream I had again,* he thought, his eyes still closed, trying to cling to the last images of the Greek sanctuary and the face of the other soul. The urge to fall back asleep to try to return to his dream assailed him strongly, but experience had taught him that the dreamlike door did not open at will. With resignation, he only let out a sigh, a faint smile dancing on his lips. *I know that one day we will meet,* he thought, finally opening his eyes and looking at the ceiling of his room, a world completely different from the one he had just left. *Our souls will recognize each other in this cruel reality. We just have to wait.*
Meanwhile, in England, the weak morning sun filtered through the curtains of Josephine's room, slowly waking her from a dream that felt as real as the air filling her lungs. The echo of Artemis's melodious voice still resonated in her memory, mingling with the persistent fragrance of jasmine that seemed to cling to her sleepwear, even though she knew it was impossible. The sensation of the warm touch of that hand in hers lingered, a phantom caress that raised her skin.
*What a strange dream,* Josephine thought, opening her eyes and blinking to adjust her vision to the light. The image of the ancient Greek sanctuary, with its white columns and the deep blue of the sky, remained vivid in her mind. And Artemis's face, with her intense green eyes, had been etched in her memory with surprising clarity. *Helena,* she remembered, the name she had felt was hers in that dreamlike world. And the promise in Artemis's words, that certainty of a future recognition, had left her with a feeling of sweet and melancholic longing.
She stretched lazily under the sheets, feeling the weight of the day that was beginning. A part of her fervently wished she could close her eyes and return to that secret garden in ancient Greece, to feel the warmth of that mysterious presence again. But the cold logic of wakefulness reminded her of the ephemeral nature of dreams.
With a soft sigh, a small smile curved her lips. *Artemis,* she thought, feeling the echo of the name in her heart. *If what you said is true, if our souls really recognize each other through the veils of dreams, then perhaps, one day, we will meet in this reality too.* She got out of bed, carrying with her the mysterious echo of her dreamlike encounter, a strange and fascinating note in the melody of her awakening in England.
A few days had passed since her conversation with Josep in the garden. Josephine was getting dressed for school. A part of her still remained cautious, remembering Josep's sudden departure and his long silence. However, the sincere words he had shared, the vulnerability in his eyes, had begun to slightly erode the wall of distrust she had built. She was more receptive to his presence, although the shadow of doubt persisted in the back of her mind.
At school, the routine of shared classes with Brianna and Josep had resumed. In the hallways, Josep greeted her with a more relaxed smile, and Josephine responded with a less distant courtesy than in the days immediately following his return. Brianna, always observant, noticed the subtle change in the dynamic between them, although she made no comment.
During history class, where the three sat near each other, Josep leaned towards Josephine to ask her opinion on a topic the teacher was discussing.
"What do you think, Josephine?" Josep asked, his voice soft, seeking her gaze. "About the influence of Greek culture on the Roman Empire?"
Josephine looked at him, considering his question. A small memory of the sun-drenched sanctuary flickered through her mind. "I think it was a deep and lasting influence," she replied, articulating her thoughts carefully. "You can see it in their art, their philosophy, even their language."
Josep nodded, his eyes shining with a glimpse of the old connection they shared. "Exactly. I remember when we were kids, we used to read Greek myths together. Do you remember Artemis and her nymphs?"
A slight blush rose to Josephine's cheeks at the mention of the name. The memory of the dream was too recent, too intimate. "Yes, vaguely," she replied, trying to keep her tone casual.
Brianna, sitting beside her, cast an inquisitive glance at Josephine, noticing her reaction. Josephine returned a neutral look, not wanting to share the mystery of her dreams yet.
In art class, the atmosphere was slightly more relaxed than in previous days. The abstract sculpture project continued, and this time, Josephine allowed herself to participate a little more in the conversation with Josep as they molded the clay.
"I'm trying to represent uncertainty," Josephine explained, showing the twisted form she was creating. "Something that feels unstable, constantly changing."
Josep observed her work attentively. "It's interesting. I'm trying to capture hope. Something that emerges even in the darkest moments." His gaze briefly turned to Josephine, charged with a meaning she couldn't fully decipher.
Brianna, working on her own sculpture, added, "I'm going with frustration. The feeling of wanting to express something and the material not cooperating."
At one point, while Josephine was trying to join two parts of her sculpture, her clay-covered hands slipped. Josep, instinctively, reached out to steady the piece before it fell. Their fingers brushed briefly, a fleeting contact that generated a small spark of discomfort and a faint memory of the warmth of another hand in a Greek garden.
"Thanks," Josephine murmured, quickly withdrawing her hand and concentrating again on her work.
Josep withdrew his with a soft smile. "You're welcome. I still have the reflexes from when we built sandcastles on the beach."
Josephine allowed a small smile to touch her lips. The memory was pleasant, an echo of a friendship that had once been simple and uncomplicated. The doubt about Josep still lingered, like a faint shadow, but the warmth of those shared moments in the past began to open small cracks in her distrust. The path to rebuilding their friendship would be long and full of questions, but for the first time since his return, Josephine felt a slight openness to the possibility.