THE 24TH EXPEDITION

The flickering firelight from the central braziers danced across the weathered stone walls, casting playful shadows behind the gathering of robed figures. The chamber was enveloped in silence, broken only by the crackling flames and the occasional creak of shifting armor.

Twelve seats surrounded the long obsidian table an ancient artifact adorned with countless glyphs, sigils, and the marks of time itself. Some elders had already settled into their places, while others loomed in the background, their faces obscured by ceremonial hoods.

Liora sat next to Varun, her posture both poised and alert. Her silver mantle shimmered softly in the dim light, the intricate embroidery hinting at both status and secrets. Across from her, Elder Malrec, one of the oldest among them, tapped his cane gently against the floor to capture their attention.

"It's time," Malrec declared, his voice raspy with age yet firm in its resolve. "We must begin preparations for the 24th expedition into the Dragonic Dimension. The threshold is stirring once more."

Immediately, murmurs filled the air—some laced with anxiety, others tinged with curiosity. A heavy atmosphere settled in, like a thunderstorm waiting to unleash its fury.

Varun leaned forward, fingers steepled, his gaze intense. "How many will we send this time?"

"Just four." Liora replied, her voice steady. "Any more, and the distortion becomes too overwhelming. The scouts' minds start to unravel. We learned that during the 19th."

Elder Hameer, younger and more impulsive, frowned. "That expedition failed because we underestimated the shifting leylines. This time, we've mapped them for months. We could send—"

"No," Liora cut in, her tone sharp. "Four is enough. No more."

A long silence followed, broken only by the wind howling through the narrow cracks in the stone above them. From somewhere far off, a horn echoed—distant yet foreboding.

"The children," Varun finally said. "Shimei and Tsarra. What about them?"

Several pairs of eyes turned toward Liora. She remained composed, her expression unreadable.

"Tsarra isn't ready," she said after a moment. "She's brilliant, strong-willed, and growing fast, but…"

"She's a bit rough around the edges. Her emotions really drive her. She's too attached—to Shimei, to the guardians, even to Varun."

The old warrior raised an eyebrow. "That's not necessarily a flaw."

"In the Dream Realm, it is," Liora replied sharply. "She hesitates. And hesitation there can mean death or something even worse. I have a different path in mind for her. One that plays to her strengths without breaking her spirit."

Varun took a moment before responding, studying her intently.

"And what about Shimei?"

A subtle smile crept onto Liora's lips. "He's... almost ready. His instincts are far beyond what I anticipated. His ability to adapt. His quietness. He doesn't crave glory or validation. He just wants to understand. That makes him both dangerous and incredibly valuable."

"Dangerous?" scoffed a voice from the back. It was Elder Damaris, draped in blue robes adorned with frost sigils. "He's still just a child."

"A child who can track your footsteps through two feet of snow without making a sound," Liora replied, her tone steady. "A child who absorbed a Shadow Sigil at six without losing his mind. A child who, just last week, resisted the lure of the Veiled Mirror longer than any of our previous initiates."

The room fell silent once more.

Varun narrowed his eyes. "You're keeping something from us."

Liora met his gaze without flinching. "I'm always keeping something."

Varun smirked but chose not to respond.

Elder Malrec tapped his cane again. "Then it's settled. The gate opens in two weeks. Twelve will go, and Shimei will be one of them."

"And what about the others?" a deep voice rumbled from the back Councilman Ebras, his face partially illuminated by the flickering firelight.

Liora rose slowly, making her way around the table. "The others are ready—both in mind and body. But Shimei's situation is unique. We can't reveal too much too soon. Let the days unfold as they should. He should keep training. And then… when the gate is prepared… he will be led to the threshold."

Varun stood up as well, arms crossed tightly. "What if he doesn't succeed?"

Liora tilted her head slightly, her voice soft and almost reverent. "Then he won't come back."

The weight of her words settled heavily in the room.

Malrec nodded slowly. "Let the will of the gate determine the outcome, then."

The council members rose almost in unison, their chairs creaking as the ancient wood scraped against the stone floor. As they began to file out, Liora stayed put, her gaze fixed on the flames of the central brazier, her voice barely a whisper.

"He must go in alone. No allies. No attachments. Only truth."

Behind her, Varun lingered for a moment longer before turning and slipping into the shadows of the hallway.

As the evening settled in, Tsarra and Shimei found themselves perched on the training steps, taking in the violet hues painting the sky.

The courtyard was now deserted. The sharp sounds of sparring and the instructors' commands had long since faded into the background.

All that lingered was the gentle rustle of the wind brushing against the mossy stones, the distant chirping of nightbirds, and the soft flicker of torchlight dancing along the citadel walls.

Tsarra leaned back on her elbows, stretching her legs with a satisfied groan. Her boots were scuffed, her tunic marked with dirt from their earlier drills, and a bruise was starting to form on her shoulder.

Yet, there was a glimmer of satisfaction on her face she had landed more hits today than she had all week.

"Do you think we'll always be training like this?" she asked softly, kicking a loose pebble that skittered down the steps and into the grass.

Shimei sat beside her, leaning forward with his arms draped over his knees. His breathing was steady, though his ribs throbbed from Varun's earlier strike a harsh reminder that instinct alone wouldn't cut it. He absentmindedly tugged at a loose thread on his sleeve.

"I hope not," he replied after a pause. "I kinda want something more. Maybe an adventure."

Tsarra shot him a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. "An adventure?"

He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the last sliver of sunlight slipped behind the silhouette of the outer walls. "Yeah. Something real. Something that makes all this worth it."

"You're already annoying enough here," she chuckled, nudging him playfully. "Don't go pestering creatures in other realms too."

They both laughed, but there was an underlying weight to it a shared understanding that hung in the air, unspoken. The world beyond the walls wasn't just a tale from an old scroll.

They both understood what the Dream Realm truly was, even if the adults tried to dismiss it as mere legend. Expedition after expedition sent through those gates few returned, and even fewer dared to share what they had witnessed.

Shimei turned to her, his tone shifting to something more serious. "If you could choose, what would you do? You know, if we weren't stuck with drills and lessons every single day?"

Tsarra paused, her gaze drifting to the stars that were starting to twinkle softly above them. "I honestly don't know," she confessed. "Maybe… just explore. Discover what's out there. Perhaps even find a place that isn't always battling shadows."

Shimei nodded in understanding. He didn't need to say anything; the heaviness that loomed over the city wasn't just in the air or the stone—it was embedded in their very being. Every child here grew up feeling it. The burden of expectations. Of hidden truths and silent sorrow.

"Do you ever think about your mom?" Tsarra asked out of the blue.

Shimei tensed a bit but took a moment before responding. His eyes fell to his hands. "Sometimes. Not as often as I used to."

Tsarra's expression shifted to one of regret. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay," he interrupted gently. "I just… I can't picture her face clearly anymore."

A long silence settled between them, the kind that only true friends can share comfortably. Tsarra reached down, removed her glove, and extended her pinky.

Shimei looked at her hand, puzzled. "What's that for?"

"A promise," she replied. "When we're older. No matter what happens, no matter where they send us—if we ever get the chance to leave this place… we go together."

Shimei blinked in surprise. Then, without saying a word, he unwound the bandage from his hand and linked his pinky with hers. "Together."

The torches crackled louder as the wind picked up. After a few moments of silence, Tsarra spoke again.

"Do you think we'll ever be ready?"

Shimei leaned back, tilting his head toward the stars. "I don't think we're meant to feel ready. I think they just wait until we stop asking."

Tsarra nodded slowly, then a genuine smile broke across her face—soft and faint, like the moonlight beginning to wash over the steps in silver.

"You're such a weirdo."

"Yeah," Shimei replied with a smirk.

The moon hung low in the sky, its silver glow casting a gentle light through the fortress's stone windows. The hallways were now silent, the echoes of footsteps long gone, and the clanging of training swords had quieted down. It was that peaceful hour when children drifted into dreams, warriors found their calm, and shadows shared their ancient secrets with the stones.

Shimei had just slipped into his sleeping robe, stifling a yawn as he neatly folded his training shirt and placed it at the foot of his cot. The dim lantern beside him flickered softly.

Then, a gentle knock broke the stillness—almost shy.

He turned, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

"Shimei?" Liora's voice came through, muffled yet clear.

He padded over and opened the door to find her standing there, her deep blue robe trailing behind her, her expression warm and unreadable.

"Come walk with me for a moment," she said.

He glanced back at his room, feeling a bit puzzled. "But it's bedtime…"

Liora smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling softly. "I know. Just a little chat. Nothing too long."

He hesitated for a moment but then nodded, following her barefoot into the softly lit corridors.

At first, they walked in silence, the sound of their footsteps echoing on the smooth stone floors as they navigated the old fortress. Finally, Liora opened a side door that led to the upper terraces, where the stars twinkled above in a sky as dark as velvet.

They were perched together on a broad ledge beneath a sprawling tree that stood guard between the fortress stones a quiet sentinel of the night. The wind danced through its leaves, creating a soothing rustle like a gentle lullaby.

Shimei looked up at her, a hint of concern in his eyes. "Did I mess up?"

"No," Liora replied, chuckling softly. "What makes you think that?"

"You only call people out like this when something serious is about to happen."

She gazed into the distance for a moment, her hands resting neatly in her lap. "You're sharper than most adults, Shimei."

"I had to be," he muttered. "Growing up here."

Liora turned to him, fully engaged. "Do you ever dream of something different?"

"Sometimes," he confessed. "I talk about it with Tsarra. But it always feels so distant. Like... a story."

"What kind of story would you want to be a part of?"

Shimei shrugged. "One with purpose. One where I'm not just training to hit things harder every day. I want to see what lies beyond the city walls. I want to fight for something that matters."

Liora smiled faintly. "Then… how would you feel about going on an adventure?"

Shimei blinked in surprise. "What?"

"I'm serious," she insisted. "Not pretend. Not games. A real journey. A real mission. Into the Dream Realm."

Shimei stared at her, bewildered. "The Dream Realm? But... that's for the elders and the expedition squads. I thought kids weren't allowed."

"Usually not," Liora said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But you're not 'just a kid' anymore. You've grown. You've shown more than just skill—wisdom, restraint, and curiosity. That's what we need."

Shimei's mouth fell slightly open. "What's… in the Dream Realm?"

Liora took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "It's a place between worlds. A landscape shaped by memory, emotion, and death. Every place there was once real—but twisted, changed. It's where the souls of ancient civilizations drift, where nightmares take form, and where long-buried truths whisper from the ruins. There are monsters yes but also wonders. And sometimes, there are answers."

"Answers?" Shimei asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"About who we are. About what we stand for. About the future," Liora replied.

The boy sat there, lost in thought, the wind playfully ruffling his hair. He glanced down at his hands. "And... you really want me to go?"

"I do," Liora said softly. "You'll be the youngest ever. But I believe you're ready."

He fell silent for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he looked up. "Is Tsarra going?"

Liora's smile dimmed a bit. She turned her gaze away. "No."

"Why not?" His voice sharpened, a hint of frustration creeping in. "She's strong—maybe even stronger than I am sometimes."

"She is," Liora replied gently. "But strength isn't everything. Tsarra's heart is still too full of emotion. She acts on impulse, without thinking things through. She's not prepared for what the Dragonic Dimension requires."

Shimei clenched his jaw. "That's not fair."

"No, it isn't," Liora said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But life isn't fair. This realm doesn't wait for fairness; it only responds to what we carry inside us."

Another long silence stretched between them. Finally, Shimei nodded slowly. "Okay... I'll go."

Liora placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Good. One week from now, we'll start your final preparations."

He nodded again and stood up. "Can I go now? I'm really tired."

"Of course," Liora said with a gentle nod.

Shimei turned and made his way back through the dimly lit halls, the flickering torches casting shadows along his path. As he neared his room, something caught his attention.

Sitting just outside his door, knees pulled to her chest, was Tsarra.

She looked up as he approached, her eyes shimmering softly in the torchlight. "So... you're going."

He froze, his mouth slightly agape. "You heard?"

"I wasn't trying to eavesdrop," she said quickly. "I just... couldn't sleep, and then I heard voices, and I followed them, and... well, I heard enough."

She stood up slowly, brushing off her cloak.

Shimei frowned. "I didn't mean to keep it from you."

"I know," she replied

They stood there for a moment, both at a loss for words.

"I'm really sorry you're not going," Shimei said.

Tsarra narrowed her eyes and looked down. "I'm not."

He blinked in surprise. "You're not?"

"I mean… I am. But also... I'm not." She clenched her fists at her sides. "You're braver than I am, Shimei. I put on a tough front, but you actually think things through. You see the world in a different light. Maybe that's why she chose you. And maybe one day… I'll find the strength too."

Shimei stepped closer and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You already have."

Tsarra looked up at him, her eyes glistening.

"I'll come back," he promised softly. "I'll share everything with you. Every little detail."

She let out a shaky laugh. "You better."

A moment passed, and then Tsarra suddenly wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. "Just… don't get lost in there. Don't change too much."

Shimei stood still for a moment before returning the hug. "I won't."

When she finally pulled away, she quickly wiped her eyes, trying to hide her tears with a smirk. "Now go to bed, you idiot. You've got a whole world to get ready for."

He smiled back. "Goodnight, Tsarra."

"Night, explorer."

As Shimei slipped back into his room and settled under the covers, the stars above the fortress twinkled like watchful eyes. The wind whispered through the halls, carrying dreams, secrets… and the start of something neither of them could fully grasp just yet.