Morning came too soon. Rey found himself at a council meeting in the underground city. The resistance had gathered—fighters, scholars, and survivors who had spent their lives preparing for this moment.
At the head of the table stood Nath Elsa, the leader of the resistance. She wasn't just beautiful – she was legend sculpted in flesh. The kind of beauty that didn't shout but whispered through the soul, shaking even the most hardened hearts. Her hair cascaded like woven strands of starlight, a silvery-white that shimmered with faint iridescence, glowing subtly beneath the moon and burning bright beneath the sun. It flowed down her back like a divine river, kissed by constellations.
Her eyes –gods, her eyes were like galaxies locked in amber. They didn't just look at you; they saw you, like they could peel away your layers and read the verses of your soul. Golden and luminescent, they sparked with eternal curiosity and quiet fire, like ancient libraries burning in silence.
Her skin was porcelain laced with life, unblemished and radiant, soft as moonlight on snow, yet kissed faintly with a warm rose glow –as though her blood carried poetry instead of iron. She wore tailored robe that looked as if it was made from celestial silk –snow white etched with flowing gold threads that pulsed gently like veins of light. They clunged to her form just enough to hint at divinity, yet flowed with regal modesty that made queens feel unworthy –and she also wore black armor on parts of her body.
As she turned her gaze at rey, for a moment his heart raced
"You saw him, didn't you?" she said, her gaze fixed on Rey's arm as she walked towards him.
When elsa walked, the air stilled. The wind dared not tousle her hair, every step was soundless, yet seismic. But what made her unreachable… was the aura she carried: calm, intellectual, and distant.
Rey nodded. "Seth called me 'Dreamwalker.' What does that mean?"
An old scholar, Jasper Rowan, stepped forward. "It means you are linked to the Nightmare Realm. Whether by fate or design, you are the only one who can sever Seth's hold on this world."
Elsa crossed her arms. "Which means we need to get you to the Dreambinder before the portal fully opens."
"The Dreambinder?" Rey asked.
"A relic that can cut the connection between realms," Jasper said. "If we can retrieve it, we might have a chance to stop Seth before he enters this world completely."
Rey clenched his fists. The nightmare he had seen was not just a vision—it was a warning.
He had no choice.
He would fight.
And he would win.
Rey adjusted the strap on his shoulder, securing his sword as he followed Elsa and the resistance fighters through the underground city. The air was damp, filled with the scent of burning torches and iron.
"The temple where the Dreambinder is hidden lies beyond the Ashen Caverns," Elsa explained. "We'll have to move fast—Seth's influence grows stronger every day."
The group consisted of five warriors: Rey, Elsa, Jasper, Father Gabriel, and Tailon Crowe, a rogue mage who had a reputation for bending the rules of magic.
Gabriel, a former priest, kept his hood low, whispering prayers under his breath. He had once served in the great churches of the world, but when Seth's nightmares began plaguing the minds of holy men, he abandoned the faith to fight the enemy in a more direct way.
Tailon Crowe, on the other hand, carried an air of mystery. His crimson cloak flowed behind him as he walked, and his silver-streaked hair suggested he had seen more than he let on. He was a magician, skilled in illusions and shadow-weaving—a talent that made him both invaluable and dangerous.
"How far is the temple?" Rey asked.
"Three days," Elsa answered. "If we're lucky."
Rey exhaled. The nightmare he had seen still burned in his mind. Seth was coming, and time was running out.