Ray - Journey (3)

“Shall we rest?” Elga asked. “You have two options. You can draw your awareness inward and rest there, which we call meditation, or continue exploring the light within yourselves. Both are relaxing, but only cultivation is useful in the long run. At least, if you haven’t completely exhausted yourselves from using your Lucidity too much. Ray, I think you should rest a bit and turn your awareness inward. It’s not difficult, almost like sleeping used to be, remember? And even if you don’t recall, your body will.”

Ray still had so many questions, but a deep tiredness settled in her bones.

She slowly let herself lie back, eyes closing as she focused on nothing but the beating of her heart and the occasional breeze brushing across her face.

Images flickered inside her: Dio, and the peace of his presence; a glowing white circle in the sky, so bright, so beautiful; then darkness, and calm.

After a while, she felt herself slowly retreat from the light she had been drifting in.

When she opened her eyes, Demoa and Elga were gone. Eri stood nearby, speaking quietly with Sars, who still seemed to offer only a few short words.

How much time has passed...?

Ray was still in the middle of the scorched clearing. She stood quickly and walked toward the others. The blackened grass cracked beneath her sandals, but when she reached the edge of the green, she slipped them off without thinking.

The cool softness of the living grass felt good beneath her bare feet. She breathed in deeply. The air was clean. The wind played gently across her skin, and even the pale light from the colorless sky did nothing to dim the warmth now spreading inside her.

As she approached, Eri leaned on his staff and looked at her closely. Sars stepped back a little, holding the vine he used to lead his mount.

Ray finally got a good look at the strange animal.

It had smooth, dark brown skin, a long face, and a short, flexible trunk. Its head rested on a slender neck covered in a tangled mane, which it stretched forward, curious. Strong legs ended in small hooves, and two thick, brush-like tails swayed softly behind it. A fresh, floral scent rose from its body and reminded her of sunlit fields.

“May I... pet it?” Ray asked, turning toward Sars.

He paused, then gave a small nod. He seemed withdrawn, quiet. But Ray didn’t let that stop her.

“How should I do it? Should I bow, or wave, or...?”

Eri laughed under his breath, then turned away, perhaps to hide another grin. Ray did not let that stop her either.

“No, just hold out your hand. It’ll sniff you and decide. Muldis are loyal, sometimes too loyal, really,” Sars said softly, his eyes still on the creature.

Ray stepped forward with care and reached out her hand.

The muldi sniffed. Then a thin tongue flicked from its trunk and slathered her palm in warm, sticky saliva.

She nearly recoiled, but instead she stood still. The creature meant no harm. It was just... friendly.

Maybe it’s hungry...

“She’s finally back with us? Good, then we can get moving. The road ahead is long,” said a voice behind her.

Elga and Demoa had returned from the trees. They both looked calm, rested.

“Yes, we’ve dawdled long enough,” Eri agreed.

“Time to mount up and head out. Elga, take Demoa. Sars, you’re with Ray. The animals are strong. There’s room for two. So, let’s move.”

Sars helped Ray onto the muldi without saying much. Its back was warm. She clutched its mane the way Sars showed her. Moments later, he climbed up behind her, and the creature began to move forward at a slow, steady pace.

At first, Ray sat stiffly, tense. Her grip was tight. But gradually, she relaxed.

The muldi’s stride was calm, almost lulling her. It rocked her gently, and she found herself swaying with it, almost like drifting on water.

Even its scent helped—soft and sweet, comforting.

Behind her, Sars held the reins with quiet strength. His presence was still distant, but not uncomfortable.

Elga and Demoa followed behind them. Eri rode ahead, always scanning the horizon, focused and silent. They climbed a gentle rise, and the world opened before them.

Wide fields stretched out, with forests reaching as far as she could see: wild and peaceful all at once.

Ray’s eyes wandered toward the far line of trees.

“Damn, I forgot my shoes,” she muttered, embarrassed. Her face flushed. A chill crept along her spine.

“Don’t worry, I brought them,” Demoa said, holding up her pair of sandals.

“Thanks... but honestly, I need new clothes too. These linen things are barely holding together,” Ray grumbled, tugging at the frayed edges.

Elga smiled.
“We’ll take care of it. There’s a settlement ahead. We’re planning to stop there.”

“Is it far?” Demoa asked.

“It’ll take a while,” Elga said gently. “You should both use the time to cultivate. You’re lucky—no walking, no leading the animals. It might not be as deep as in stillness and lying down, but it’s something.”

Ray didn’t want to, not at first. The world around her was too fascinating. The farther they rode, the more alive the land became. Every shape and color drew her attention. Flowers buzzed with tiny insects. Some she knew, others were unfamiliar. Glitterflies and flitterlings shimmered as they danced above the path.

By the woods, she caught glimpses of small, furry creatures with bushy tails. Some climbed trees. Others dug into the earth, probably hiding food. Yet sometimes she felt there was more to it, a meaning she couldn’t name.

That old feeling returned: the weight of not remembering, and the vague sense that she had forgotten something important.

Still, she watched, taking in every leaf, every stream, every rock.

Soon, giant trees reached toward the sky, their trunks thick and gnarled. Some looked familiar in shape, at least. Others did not.

There were trees with red leaves, and others with twisting branches. Some poured down blossoms in a shimmering cascade of blue. Thick bushes held fruit like snowballs. Ferns curled up beside porg trees, their needle-leaves pointing in every direction. Scrabbers darted between roots.

It was too much to grasp.
Yet it made her feel safe again.

They crossed a brook, then another. The forest grew darker, then lighter again, always heading toward a distant mountain.

Eri said they had to navigate by landmarks now. The guiding sense that had brought him and Elga to the place of arrival had faded. Now they used the old ways.

They stopped often.

Eri and Elga cultivated. Sars hunted. Sometimes a small animal ended up roasting on a fire Eri lit with a glance or a twitch of his finger.

Ray had refused to eat them at first. It felt wrong.

But the scent—rich, warm, too familiar to ignore.

She tried one bite. It was good, juicy.

Elga said they didn’t really need food, but it felt too natural to resist. A habit, another remnant of Ray's old life.

They didn’t eat meat only. There were trees with red fruit, which Sars called apples. Others had round, soft things she recognized as pangrates.

No one else knew them. Just once, she had been the one with answers, a refreshing change.

Even her cultivation felt better after that.

“I believe everything here is brought from before. The Light within us enables us to remember names. When you call something by a name no one else knows, it matters. It shows how the Dream shifts. We Lucids bring change. And change is precious. Without it, people drift. They lose themselves in routine," Eri explained.

“That’s not bad,” Sars said quietly. “I like it. It’s peaceful.”

Everyone turned to look at him. He shrugged, then took another bite of the pangrate he was holding, golden and a bit see-through.

He didn’t say more.

Eri looked like he wanted to apologize, but Elga gave the slightest shake of her head, and he stayed silent.

They didn’t talk much after that. Ray was glad about it. She had more on her mind than she’d expected.

At first, it hurt to feel Dio growing distant. But over time, she got used to it. The ache inside her faded, his presence dimmed. Her thoughts turned to the Light instead. To the circle she had seen, its quiet beauty.

She started cultivating more often, but always held back. The Light had once slipped free. It had burned. It had harmed people, woken them.

What if it happens again?

Eri told her not to be afraid, but his gentle words didn’t help. Only Elga’s calm, her nearness, ever eased that fear. And judging by the faint glow and fresh scents accompanying her, Ray suspected it was her Lucidity at work.

Ray loved the light. It felt like looking past a curtain, into a deeper world. She thought about the realms Eri had spoken of: floating cities, stone islands drifting in the sky. She wanted to see them. But Eri always turned away from her questions.

Elga only had stories, guesses. She hadn’t traveled so far. So Ray clung to scattered hints.

And yet sometimes her wonder turned uneasy. She remembered other tales, darker ones—lands filled with monsters, with cruelty.

She wondered how such horrors could exist. Were they born from someone? Were they part of a balance?

She hated them, the ideas she imagined living and hunting in those places. But at least she was safe. The voids kept them far away.

Still, the thought of those creatures left her chest cold. She shook it off. And once more, her thoughts returned to the Dream itself.

From the back of the muldi, she saw things so fantastic she sometimes just stared into the nature around them, taking it all in: the scents, the colors, the strange lives unfolding around her.

She tried to hold onto it all. But memories faded.

Her heart sank as an image returned: a young man walking away, up a hill, his back to her.

What if even that memory faded?

No. I won’t forget you, Dio. Never. We’ll see each other again. Hopefully soon.

Warmth bloomed in her chest. Her heart beat faster.

And when her thoughts reached too far toward him, she pulled them back. She looked forward. She followed the path.

Just like Eri had told her to.