In the days following his return to Aris, Kael immersed himself in his shop duties with methodical discipline. He repaired tools, organized goods, and assisted customers. It was his anchor. His hands, which in dreams had wielded the purifying light of the Dormant Flame, now moved with the careful precision of a craftsman. It was a way to ground himself, to remember the physical reality he was protecting. Every hammer blow, every piece of smoothed wood, was an act of conscious will to keep his feet firmly on the ground.
One evening, while Kael was precisely hammering an old agricultural tool, his Uncle Borin observed him with affection and worry, placing a calloused hand on his shoulder.
"You're awake again tonight, son. Did you finish that novel I gave you last night?"
Kael stopped hammering and replied with a smile: "Yes, Uncle. Read and reread. Don't worry, really. What you call 'sickness' isn't something normal sleep cures. It's more like... a vast reserve of rest that I'm currently drawing from. I told you I'm a 'dream healer,' but now I'm the 'waking guardian.'"
"A reserve. You store energy like a camel stores water. So... you're a dream healer, huh? But these rakes are the reality, Kael. This is the reality you're defending. As long as you're fixing a tool, I know you're alright. However, if you feel the need to close your eyes, don't force yourself. You don't have to be strong for me. Just be well."
Kael looked at him, sighing slightly: "I'm well, Uncle. I feel... regenerated. It's a new rhythm, that's all."
The most surprising thing for Kael was his great lack of sleep. The night arrived, wrapping Aris in a peaceful silence, but he felt no need to sleep. He remained awake, sometimes reading an old history volume, other times simply sitting in silence on his balcony, watching the moon dance between the branches of the trees.
Slowly, he began to notice the strange phenomenon. As the night turned into morning, instead of feeling more tired, he felt increasingly rested and revitalized. It wasn't the peaceful repose of deep sleep, but a constant recharge, a subtle, continuous flow of energy moving through him. All those months spent in the Dream Realm, with his physical body in a state of deep, uninterrupted slumber—an almost comatose state of pure storage—had created an immense energy reserve. It was like a battery that had been fully charged for a very long time, far beyond its conventional capacity. Now, the "rest debt" was being compensated and distributed. His very essence, his dream soul, was drawing from that reserve, infusing rest into his body even without conventional sleep. His relationship with sleep had changed forever.
Meanwhile, Master Elian continued preparing for the future. The truce granted by the Ash was a temporary luxury. He had to find a way to communicate with Kael while he was awake and, crucially, a system to enhance future protection.
Elian sat down in the Connection Chamber, a small room where the Dream Realm's energies converged at precise resonance points. He closed his eyes and focused his will, seeking the faint thread of Kael's resonance in the waking world. He knew it was difficult, almost imperceptible, but not impossible for a Master like him, who had dedicated centuries to studying ethereal weaving.
After minutes of deep concentration, he felt a faint mental "touch," like a slight rustle in the wind. Kael was awake, but his resonance was a weak echo compared to the powerful beacon he was when immersed in dreams.
Elian projected a mental whisper: "Kael. Kael. Can you hear me?"
A crude and unexpected mental image replied in his mind: the vision of his hand strongly gripping a hammer in the shop, a vivid image testifying to his grounding in physical reality.
Master Elian opened his eyes and said, with a satisfied smile, addressing the silent echo of the chamber: "It works. The resonance is faint, a mere touch, but it hasn't broken off. He manages to maintain a connection even while awake. His new nature is an invaluable asset."
Lyra entered holding an ancient tome, her eyebrows furrowed with strategic concern.
Lyra entered, holding an ancient tome, and asked the Master: "Master, is it wise to force this? You risk exposing that echo to the Ash, however weak it is. And beyond communication, when he must return to the Dream Realm, how will we prevent the Silent Guardian from exhausting Anya in two nights? She cannot bear that burden a second time."
Elian paused briefly, contemplating Lyra's words: "It's not forcing, Lyra. It's testing his new nature. And the test was positive. As for the Guardian... the Whispering One is intelligent. It will pursue a constant, a source of fixed resistance, as it did with Kael. But what if it chases a mirage instead? I found the trace in the Ancient Accords: the Silent Guardian has to become a ghost. It appears and disappears at different dream resonance points, dissolves for very brief moments to recharge Anya, and then reappears elsewhere. An elusive and unpredictable target."
Lyra expressed her concern, though marveling at the idea: "A grueling tactic for them, one that would force them to waste attention on frustrating intermittence. But Master, even a dynamic and intermittent Guardian will deplete Anya. The regeneration requirement will be too rapid. It's too much load for her alone."
Master Elian rose, his eyes shining with new inspiration, and reassured her: "Not alone, Lyra. That is the key point. We are no longer isolated individuals; we are Keepers, and we form a network. I found the solution in the schematics of dream transfer: load sharing. Through a complex dream connection, you, I, Anya, and the other Guardians... we can act as 'recharge batteries' for her. She will no longer have to bear the entire weight alone."
Lyra asked, even more astonished by the implication of such synergy: "Load sharing? Channeling our dream energy to support her, so that it is a light burden for all of us, but a constant reserve for her?"
Elian smiled, a rare moment of satisfaction on his aged face: "Exactly. Only a small portion from each of us, but constant. This will allow Anya to last longer, maintain greater clarity, and make our 'ghost Guardian' tactic not only possible, but lethal to the Ash's attention. Not only will we have deceived the enemy, but we will have also forged a stronger support bond among the Guardians. The war is taking a strategic turn, my dear. And we are about to drive our enemy mad, forcing it to chase a shadow."
The battle was taking a new strategic turn.
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