The Dream

Aster sat in silence for a while, then slowly leaned back onto the bed. The thin blanket shifted slightly, and the light from the magical stone lamp on the wall fell across his face—tired, yet carrying a persistent spark. He raised his hand, still tinged with the faint remnants of spiritual energy, golden light flickering and gradually fading. In the quiet void, Aster stared at his hand, as if gazing into a distant world he still could not reach.

“How long…” he whispered, his voice low, “before I can perfect myself… be strong enough… to hold onto what I want to protect?”

Gradually, he closed his eyes, fatigue curling around his body. Sleep came swiftly, as if his mind no longer had the strength to resist. The wind outside whispered faintly, blending with his steady breaths, and after passing through various dreams… the darkness within that sleep was not peaceful.

A sharp, jarring sound pierced the silence—BANG!—and Aster awoke in a completely different scene. He was no longer in the stone room of the Legion. Before him was his family home from before his transfer, a cold and frightening place. Heavy footsteps echoed, followed by a hoarse, angry voice:

“You useless brat! How many times have I told you!?”

A thunderous slap sent Aster crashing to the floor. The impact of his body against the wooden floor rang painfully in his ears. He lifted his head to see the furious face and clenched fists of the man he once called father.

He was dreaming of himself at seventeen. The light blurred. Sounds distorted. The scene shattered into countless fragments of memory before vanishing entirely, leaving only Aster’s rapid breathing. He jolted awake, sweat soaking his brow, breaths coming in short gasps. The dim light of the magical stone reflected off his pale face.

Aster raised his hand to shield his eyes, whispering:

“Just a dream… but why… does it still hurt as if it were real?”

He lay still, mind tangled. That memory, buried by time, kept returning as a reminder that some wounds never fade, even when one leaves the old world behind.

He sighed, trying to close his eyes again, but the image kept replaying—the white light, the scolding, the icy feeling in his hand. Every time he thought he had forgotten, the memory resurfaced like an unhealed wound. Sleep eluded him.

Aster quietly sat up, stepping off the bed. The cold stone floor made him shiver, but the chill sharpened his mind. He slowly walked to the large window, resting his hand on the metal frame, and gently pushed the window open.

A night breeze swept in, carrying the scent of grass and the chill of the highlands. In the sky, the full moon shone unusually bright. Its silver light spilled across the roofs of the Balance Legion, reflecting on Aster’s face, casting a soft, melancholic gleam in his eyes.

He lifted his head to the moon, giving a faint, pale smile.

“…I wonder what time it is now.”

No answer came, only the gentle wind, carrying a few drifting leaves past the window.

Aster leaned against the window frame, gazing toward the silent towers bathed in moonlight, where the world of Aetherion continued to turn, oblivious to the dark dream that had bound him.

In that moment, he wondered:

“Have I truly left the past behind… or am I just running from it in another world?”

The moonlight poured down, gentle yet cold, listening to the heart of a soul saved, yet still unsure how to live in this new light.

As he scanned the surroundings, Aster froze. On the roof across the way, a young man with black hair sat, silently observing the empty street. Beside him was a large, dark-furred dog—and what stunned Aster most was the faint glowing mark on the animal’s forehead, identical to the symbol he bore on his hand.

The moonlight illuminated the young man’s face, reflecting cold yet familiar deep eyes. For a moment, Aster felt he had seen him somewhere before, though it was clearly their first meeting. When the young man turned his face, moonlight glancing off his features, Aster froze.

He realized this was the person who had appeared at the summoning ceremony that morning.

Their eyes met for a few brief seconds. The young man sat calmly on the roof, the dog with the faintly glowing mark at his side. Aster said nothing, just stood, trying to gauge why he was there at this hour.

The black-haired youth nodded briefly at Aster, a small, calm gesture, enough to make him pause. Moonlight slid across the roof, catching the deep black eyes before the young man turned, gently stroking the dog’s head. Aster remained frozen; when he blinked, the young man and the dog had vanished, leaving only the empty rooftop bathed in moonlight.

Aster quietly returned to his room, closing the door gently to avoid a sound. The room remained silent, only moonlight slipping through the window, casting pale reflections on the cold stone floor.

He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and extended his hand before him, focusing all remaining spiritual energy.

“Cale… if you can still hear me, appear.”

A moment passed, but nothing happened. Aster’s spiritual energy was still weak, and he immediately knew that this would not be easy. He opened his eyes, seeing only empty space before him. Disappointment crept in, but Aster did not give up. He inhaled again, forcing himself to concentrate harder. His hands trembled slightly, and for a fleeting moment, a faint, dim image of Cale appeared—but it was weak, unstable, and vanished instantly.

Aster lowered his hands, exhaling deeply. Moonlight reflected off his face, a mixture of perseverance and frustration. He understood that summoning Cale at this moment was beyond his current strength, yet he also realized he must be patient and train his spiritual energy further.

He silently resolved:

“I have to… keep practicing.”

Aster returned to his bed, closing his eyes, and this time was lucky—he fell asleep peacefully without facing any nightmares.

The next morning, the eastern sun poured its first rays through the tall windows of the castle, casting golden light across the old stone walls. The air was fresh, dew clinging to nearby trees, carrying the scent of earth and fresh grass. Aster stepped from his room; the cold stone floor beneath his feet was not unpleasant, instead reminding him that he was in a place of power and order.

He walked along the long hallway, sunlight streaming through stone pillars, forming dappled bands on the floor that danced with the breeze. Birds began chirping from the east, blending with the rhythmic sounds of warriors training—a lively yet disciplined harmony.

The eastern training grounds sprawled wide, dotted with training platforms, pillars, and large practice stones. Trees cast shade and accents across the vast space, while small streams meandered, their surfaces sparkling like shards of glass in the morning light.

Aster paused, inhaling deeply, letting his eyes roam the scenery. Other warriors trained fervently—some practicing magic, others refining weapons. The air was full of energy, yet calm, reflecting the spirit of the Balance Legion.

He took a long breath, sensing the latent power around him, and continued toward the training grounds, ready for the challenges ahead. Aster walked slowly, carefully observing everything: warriors wielding swords, bows, or magic, the rhythmic clash of metal blending with their breaths and footsteps to form a unique cadence.

The lawns were neatly trimmed, interspersed with training stones and tall wooden posts for combat practice. Along the paths, small streams gurgled, sunlight reflecting off the water to create sparkling trails, enlivening the space.

Aster examined each area: one group practicing magic, streams of green and red light flickering with every movement; another honing weapons, sweat on their brows, yet eyes focused. He realized that each person was sharpening themselves.

Walking along the grounds, he observed every detail—from trees swaying in the wind to distant figures in training. Each step was both observation and a way to find his own place in this realm of power.

Silas led Aster to a wide area where a few others had gathered. They were newly chosen, their eyes curious yet eager.

He stopped, turning to Aster and the newcomers:

“This is the group for those newly joining the Balance Legion. From now on, you will train together. Learning to control your spiritual energy, coordinating with your spirit beast, and understanding yourself are the most important things.”

Silas raised his hand, forming a small circle of light. Magical energy shimmered and twisted around it, demonstrating how energy could manipulate objects and form basic techniques.

“Start with the fundamentals,” he said, his voice deep and steady. “Controlling spiritual energy is not just about strength. It’s rhythm, it’s feeling, it’s the connection between you and your spirit beast.”

Aster looked around, seeing everyone follow instructions, focusing on visualizing energy flowing through their bodies and projecting it outward. He clenched his hands, inhaling deeply, attempting to feel the current of energy within him.

Silas stepped closer:

“No rush. Your energy needs time to stabilize. Patience and focus are enough.”

Silas’ stern but encouraging gaze bolstered Aster. He inhaled deeply, looking around the group, and for the first time in days, he felt he truly belonged here.

Aster stood there, hands trembling slightly as he focused, imagining Cale in his mind. This time, without haste or hesitation, he took a deep breath and focused entirely on the energy flowing through his body. A golden light flared before him, and from it, a figure emerged. Cale, Aster’s spirit eagle, appeared, spreading its wings; its feathers glimmered like gold in the morning light. The sound of its wings beating was gentle but majestic, making the surrounding air seem to vibrate.

Aster’s breath quickened, but a strange exhilaration rose within him. Cale landed before him, its large, deep eyes locking onto his, as if understanding the thoughts of its master.

Silas stood nearby, observing silently, nodding slightly when he saw Aster had successfully controlled his spirit beast.

Aster gently stroked Cale’s feathers, feeling the beast’s power flow into him—warmth and confidence. Finally, he could summon Cale without difficulty, an important step in training and discovering the true potential of his own power.

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