The Village Between Dreams

Sezka Village looked like something out of a half remembered dream.

Set between low hills and wrapped in a constant veil of mist, it shimmered faintly in the morning light.

The fog wasn’t cold or heavy it felt soft, like a memory brushing against your skin. And it carried the scent of wildflowers, warm tea, and something ancient.

As the five friends stepped onto the cobbled path, the mist curled around their feet, dancing between their steps like it was welcoming them.

Kaito slowed his pace, eyes scanning the quiet, misty road ahead. Even though this was their first time here, it felt… oddly familiar.

Yita looked around, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s so quiet.”

Renji crouched to examine a flower growing from a crack in the stone path. Its petals were a strange glowing orange, like tiny flames. “This place is alive,” he said. “But not like the other villages. It’s... different.”

A woman appeared at the edge of the road. Her long cloak was white as snow, and her black hair was tucked with small blossoms. She smiled warmly.

“Welcome to Sezka,” she said. “You’ve traveled far to find what you didn’t even know you were looking for.”

Sora tilted his head. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

She gave him a knowing look. “Questions. Memories. A feeling left behind. This village doesn’t give answers it gives what your heart needs.”

The woman, who introduced herself as Lien, led them through the village.

Everything felt quiet but not empty. The homes were made of pale wood and covered in flowering vines. Mist clung to rooftops like dew, and it seemed to hang in the air like soft silk.

In the village square, trees grew in perfect circles. Their leaves were silver-blue, and strange glowing fruits hung low from the branches, lighting the fog with a gentle shine.

Every villager they passed wore white. Some smiled and nodded. Others simply watched with calm eyes, as though they already knew everything about the travelers.

That night, as the fog thickened, the hills around Sezka bloomed.

Not just with flowers but with light.

Blue, purple, soft pinks. Whole fields glowing like stars had fallen to earth and taken root.

Haru sat beside a cluster of glowing white blossoms. She brushed her fingers across one.

“I don’t know why, but… I feel like I’ve been here before.”

“But we haven’t,” Yita said softly.

Lien stood nearby, arms folded. “Sezka exists between waking and dreaming,” she explained. “Some believe it was born from the breath of a dying star. Others say it’s where forgotten stories come to rest.”

Kaito looked at the glowing petals. “Can something forgotten… be remembered again?”

Lien smiled. “Only if it chooses to return to you.”

They stayed at a place called the Bloomhouse a round inn made of white wood and flower-thatch. Inside, the air was warm, scented with herbs and something sweet, like honey and dreams.

Each of them was given a room named after a flower.

Kaito’s room was called Auroria.

The Auroria was a mythical bloom, one said to only open when a heart was truly at peace. A flower that could not be forced, only earned.

That night, sleep came slowly.

The mist outside pressed softly against the windows, like it was watching over them. Kaito drifted off, unsure of where the line between dream and reality began.

And then he dreamed.

He stood in a glowing field of blossoms.

The silver wolves were there, running silently past him, their eyes catching the stars.

Across from him stood a boy.

A younger version of himself.

“You left something behind,” the boy said.

“What did I forget?” Kaito asked.

But the boy only smiled and faded into the mist.

"Kaito suddenly woke up."

He wasn’t alone. The others had gathered outside in the central garden, all wearing the same dazed, thoughtful expressions.

They’d all dreamed.

Yita dreamed of dancing with her mother under moonlight.

Renji had seen strangers laughing around a fire. People he hadn’t met yet but somehow felt he would.

Sora smiled softly. “I was floating on a river of stars.”

Haru’s voice cracked. “I saw my brother. He was holding my hand. He died when I was a kid, but… it felt real.”

Kaito looked down at his hands. “I think this place shows you what your heart still carries. Even the things you tried to forget.”

Later that day, Lien guided them to the highest hill behind the village.

The path was lined with whispering willows and soft bluegrass. Everything shimmered slightly, like the mist itself was glowing from within.

“This is the Heartgrove,” she said. “It’s the soul of Sezka.”

In the center of the grove stood a tree unlike anything they’d ever seen.

Its trunk was glassy almost clear and inside swirled a silver mist. Light danced within it like fireflies in water.

“It records what you give,” Lien explained. “A memory, a feeling, a story. In return, it offers something forgotten. Or something you didn’t realize you needed.”

They stepped forward, one by one.

Sora touched the tree.

A vision appeared himself as a child, sailing alone on a wooden boat, whispering secrets to the sea.

Yita saw her mother again, this time laughing as they danced beneath moonflowers.

Renji saw a future he hadn’t lived yet. A fire. A circle of new faces. Laughter. Belonging.

Haru touched the tree and cried softly. She saw herself on a mountaintop with Kaito… long before they’d ever met.

And when Kaito stepped forward, the tree pulsed.

The mist around them cleared.

Inside the vision, he saw all of them Renji, Haru, Sora, Yita, and himself standing together at the edge of the world. Hands linked. Staring at a sky that was opening wide with wonder.

“It’s showing you your path,” Lien whispered.

“Or reminding me why I chose it,” Kaito replied.

That night, the village held a quiet festival called The Blooming.

Dozens of small candles were floated down the river. Each one carried a wish.

Haru lit hers with trembling hands. “For the ones I’ve lost… I hope they never truly leave.”

Renji lit his with a mischievous grin. “Here’s to every wild, impossible journey I haven’t taken yet.”

Yita smiled. “For strength when I forget I have it.”

Sora’s lips moved, but he didn’t say his wish out loud. He just smiled. “Some things are better kept secret.”

Kaito stared at his candle for a long time before letting it go.

“To the roads ahead,” he whispered. “And the memories we haven’t made yet.”

As the last candle floated past, Lien approached them.

“You’ve given something to Sezka,” she said. “Now it gives something back.”

She held out a flower wrapped in silk.

It was the Auroria.

Its petals glowed softly, pulsing like a heartbeat. It had bloomed.

Kaito’s eyes widened. “But… this flower only blooms”

Lien nodded. “When a heart is ready.”

He didn’t speak.

No one did.

They left Sezka at dawn.

The mist curled behind them, gently letting go. The village faded into the distance like a dream you didn’t want to wake from.

Kaito held the Auroria in his hands.

Its warmth traveled through his fingers, up his arm, and into his chest.

The journey wasn’t over.