Chapter 10 – The Value of a Dream

The night was heavy and silent high in the trees. Only the wind dared to whisper, as if even it respected the tension that hung there.

Tibrok lay awake, lying on his side on the improvised platform of leaves and branches. His glowing golden eyes fixed on Grumak's figure. The warrior snored softly, but his face was not one of rest. His brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. Even in his sleep, he looked ready to fight.

Malias slept on the other side, wrapped in her blanket, with the peaceful expression of someone too exhausted to dream.

Tibrok watched everything in silence. The mischievous glint that used to inhabit his eyes was gone. In its place, a pensive emptiness. His ears were flattened. His front paws were clasped together, as if trying to contain something that insisted on escaping from his chest.

He rested his chin on his hands and turned his eyes to the forest below.

It was then that he saw.

Eyes.

Oranges. Bright. Multiple.

Flickering between branches and trunks, appearing and disappearing like specters. Some small, others... too large for logic. Silent. Alert. Hunters.

Tibrok froze.

The Nok'vai instinct exploded within him. He didn't breathe. He didn't move. He just... listened.

And then he slowly crept toward Grumak, his movements precise, careful, as if a wrong leaf might give him away. He huddled beside the warrior, his eyes wide.

— They're still there... lurking...

Grumak, even in his sleep, mumbled something. A single word.

— ...Shiro...

The name escaped through clenched teeth, like a scream choked in a nightmare. His arm moved slightly, as if he knew someone was approaching.

Tibrok huddled there, against the giant's chest, and whispered:

— Just for tonight... you won't catch me.

His breathing slowly calmed. And for the first time in a long time, Tibrok fell asleep feeling... protected.

Grumak's dream world was different.

He was in a golden field, where the wind carried the scent of wild lavender and the sun seemed gentle. He was kneeling beside a shallow stream, the cool water trickling over his hands, when he heard it.

- Father!

It was his voice.

Grumak turned. And there was Shiro—small, awkward, laughing loudly, arms outstretched, running toward him.

Grumak opened his arms without thinking. When he hugged him, he felt the whole world fall into place for a second.

— I missed you, son...

The boy rested his head on his shoulder.

— I'm trying, Shiro. Trying to make it worth it. Making this place safe for when you come back. You... and that quarrelsome little pig.

Shiro chuckled softly.

— You taught me well.

The world began to fade. The sound of laughter turned to wind. The heat, rustling leaves.

— Dad... you need to rest too.

And Grumak woke up.

With a light touch on the shoulder.

— Hey, giant. The sun is rising. Time to continue the comedy we call a mission.

Malias knelt beside him, her eyes half-closed and her hair tousled by the night. Behind her, the morning light was already painting the branches a pale gold.

Tibrok slept against him, clinging to his sleeve like an exhausted puppy.

Grumak ran his hand over his face, discreetly wiping away a tear.

—Okay. Let's finish this… before anyone else mistakes me for a pillow.

“At least he snores less than you,” Malias murmured, already standing up.

As they dismantled the shelter, light filtered through the canopy like a sacred veil. The mist receded, revealing ancient stone shapes covered in moss, like forgotten sentinels.

Tibrok woke with a feline yawn, stretching himself out.

"That was, without a doubt, the best night's sleep of my life," he said sincerely. "I haven't slept like that since... since before everything."

Grumak nodded, adjusting the strap of the bag on his back.

— It was worth carrying you on my back.

"And as a token of gratitude..." Tibrok raised a finger dramatically, "prepare for breakfast, Nok'vai. Royalty and grumpy she-wolf included!"

He disappeared among the leaves like a dancing shadow.

“He called you grumpy,” Grumak commented, without taking his eyes off the map.

"He didn't lie," Malias grumbled. "And you know I can't function without food."

Minutes later, Tibrok reappeared with a makeshift basket full of absurdly colored fruits: blue, purple, translucent, some that looked like fat grapes, others like nuts caramelized by fairies.

"A vegetable treasure of the forest! Sweet, nutritious, and with only a 3% chance of causing hallucinations," he joked.

Malias picked up a translucent blue fruit. He stopped.

The scent was sweet. Familiar. But with something more. Something that touched her deeply. Like a memory she wanted to return to.

She didn't bite.

“I… know this,” he said, almost a whisper. “I’ve had one of those before. But I don’t know when. Or where.”

He stood still.

— Someone gave me this fruit. With love. As an important... gift.

Tibrok stopped chewing and looked serious.

— This one is called Maeliri. It grows only in Nok'vai glades. They say it holds the essence of Life. And that it awakens... in those whose souls are connected to nature. Or... to ancient magic.

Malias remained silent. Instinctively, she tucked the Maeliri into a leather pouch at her waist. She knew it wasn't time yet.

— When I know the right moment... I'll eat her.

No one contested it.

With their bodies satiated and their backpacks ready, the trio stood up.

Tibrok stretched, patting his legs as if to ward off laziness.

— Today we get close to the clearing.

Malias buckled his belt and adjusted his bow.

— If he attacks me during breakfast, I swear I'll retaliate with an arrow in the snout.

Grumak smiled, adjusting his glove with a metallic click.

The forest was waiting for them.

And this time... she knew who was coming.

The mist crept like a veil between the roots. The forest enveloped them in silence—not an empty silence, but the kind that listens. That tests.

The trio walked slowly, their feet touching ancient ground. Ahead, the world looked different. Immense trees curved like the columns of a living temple. Some had scaly bark. Others… eyes. Closed eyes.

Malias whispered, touching a root that was pulsing slightly:

— This place is too lively for my taste.

Tibrok walked ahead. His steps were measured, almost reverent.

"This is Narulen," he said. "The Nok'vai call it the Veil of Roots. Here, the spirit world touches the living. Nothing is as it seems. Nothing stands alone."

Grumak felt the weight of the place. Not the kind that threatens—but the kind that carries eons. Memories too old to fit into words.

While crossing a shallow stream, Malias slipped on a smooth stone. When he looked, he saw something engraved there—a circular symbol with spirals resembling roots, with a droplet at the center.

— Grumak… look at this.

He approached, and before he could say anything, Malias pulled the Maeliri from his belt.

It froze.

— Is she... bigger?

Before, it had fit entirely in the palm of my hand. Now it was almost the size of an apple. The golden veins were more vivid. They breathed.

—Is this normal...? — he asked, without taking his eyes off the fruit.

Tibrok's eyes widened.

— No. That only happens when Maeliri recognizes a bond.

— A bond with what?

- Like you.

She put away the fruit with double care.

— This place… is calling me.

No one argued.

They walked in silence until they reached the clearing. A circle of five ancient stones, covered in moss. Worn by time, but... present. Attentive.

Tibrok was the first to enter. His voice came low:

"This is the Circle of Voices. No shadows act here, as long as the ritual is respected."

He took a small pouch from his belt and handed Grumak five smooth stones. They glowed faintly, amber and moss green.

“Stones of the Inner Vein,” he said. “They only awaken if touched by someone firm. Stable. Someone like you.”

Grumak didn't answer. He picked up the stones. With each one he placed between the larger blocks, he felt something react. When he placed the fifth in the center, the ground pulsed beneath his feet. The air trembled. And a light breeze swirled within the circle—without leaving it.

An invisible barrier stood there. Solid. Alive.

“It worked,” Grumak murmured.

Tibrok smiled in surprise.

—Better than I expected. This will hold off any threats for the night.

Malias slowly backed away. The bag at his waist began to warm.

She pulled out the Maeliri. Now it was a deep orange. Like molten amber. And it seemed to breathe. As if it were... alive.

"This never happened," Tibrok said. "She's reacting to you. As if the forest chose you."

Malias stared at the fruit, feeling a warm vibration.

— Maybe that's how it starts.

Night fell.

But within the circle, the light seemed to breathe.

Malias lay down. Grumak adjusted his position. Tibrok, restless, watched the forest.

He saw it first—orange eyes among the branches. Distorted silhouettes, creatures made of branches, shadows, and too many teeth.

“They’ve arrived…” he whispered, cowering behind the rocks.

The creatures circled the circle. Some feline, some serpentine. None crossed the barrier. They growled, they snorted, but... they didn't advance.

“They’re attracted to the fruit,” Tibrok said. “To the Maeliri.”

And then, suddenly, they were gone.

They didn't run. They didn't retreat.

They disappeared.

The relief was short-lived.

Because then came the specters.

Living flames, blazing eyes, ethereal claws. They floated among the branches, burning the vegetation in their wake.

Tibrok screamed and ran to Grumak.

— THEY SAW US! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I HAVE A MISSION! I HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED IT—

"TIBROK!" Grumak growled. "Let me go! You're sinking your teeth into my hip!"

— I'M THE SIZE OF A BUN! THAT'S NOT FAIR!

Malias already had his bow in hand. Pale light glowed on the tips of his summoned arrows. The specters circled the barrier, but didn't touch it... until one of them dared. The claw slashed through the air and touched the magical field.

FWOOSH.

A blue wave repelled him as if he had bumped into a living wall.

"They're testing," Malias said. "The barrier holds. But for how long?"

Grumak stood, the elemental gauntlet already cold, charged.

— If it fails, we fight.

"I'll run. You're distracting," Tibrok muttered, still clinging to his leg.

Malias's Maeliri pulsed. Hot. Alive. As if reacting to danger. As if warding it off.

The specters hesitated. Then they retreated.

And they disappeared.

The barrier vibrated once more, as if sighing. And the forest returned to silence.

Slowly, Tibrok let go of Grumak and hid behind a rock.

— Was that just the introduction? Because I prefer the weird fruit part.

Later, with the circle calm, Grumak lay down. Tibrok was nearby. His eyes closed. And he dreamed.

I was in a golden field. Calm wind. Silence.

In the center, Shiro.

He trained with a sword. His movements were precise. A tall being with a dark blue aura guided him. He touched his shoulder and corrected his posture.

Grumak called.

— Shiro...?

The boy looked, smiled.

— I'm growing up, Dad. You taught me. And I never stopped feeling you there.

Behind Shiro, a massive shadow loomed. Furry, gleaming horns, closed eyes. Imposing. Not hostile—but ancient.

Grumak wanted to run to him, but woke up.

With a tight chest.

But... lighter.

Malias was awake, sitting beside Maeliri. The fruit glowed orange, with golden veins now spreading across the core.

She touched her fingers to the bark.

And everything went dark.

But she still felt the ground, the air. Only her mind... traveled.

It was in a golden clearing. In the center was a dark-skinned woman with braided hair. She wore ceremonial robes. The same mark of the stream stone was on her necklace.

— You were our hope... the arrow between the worlds.

The voice was not sound. It was presence.

The woman walked up to her and held out her hand.

In it, a completely golden Maeliri. Shiny. Alive.

— When the time comes... you will need to remember. And choose with your heart.

Everything dissolved into particles of light.

Malias woke up. The sound of the forest, the warmth of the fruit. The real.

Rapid breathing. But not from fear.

Of course.

She looked at Maeliri. Now more alive than ever.

He pressed her to his chest.

— When the time comes...

And in that moment, even surrounded by the mystery and danger of the valley, they were closer to the center of truth than they had ever been.

And closer to who they really are.