Ray - Preperation (3)

Each time Ormir talked about her experiences, her white tears gave her a ghostly look, shimmering faintly in the darkness.

Ray usually brought her to Demoa, who would hand her a bit of wine infused with her own Lucidity. It calmed Ormir more deeply than anything else. The first time, Ormir had stared at her in confusion, wide-eyed.

“You... can imbue things in the Dream with your abilities and ideas, so they last?” she asked haltingly.

“Yes,” Demoa said simply, unsure whether she should blush or be concerned.

“Only a few can do that, even after the Pilgrimage,” Ormir whispered in disbelief. Yet the quiet peace that filled her drink made her sigh and drop the subject.

Ray had thought about it afterward. Elga had been able to weave her own calm into her creations of Light as well. Had she truly been that gifted? And still, she hadn’t survived the world’s change. Ray would make things right again, as far as she could. She had already done something similar in her own room: woven her Light into lasting form, even if it was only furniture and decoration. Again, the power she already had made her realize how important it was to use it for good, to slay the Nightmares.

Aside from Ormir, no one else reacted so violently to the Nightmares that had appeared. Many talked about what they had gone through when the monsters and shadowy figures had emerged from nowhere: how they had faced them, as Novis loved to boast, or how they had fled. But in the end, they just became a story, a story driving them on in their studies.

Every other day, they all trained together on the hillside, learning to shape their Lucidity for combat. Progress came slowly, since the Light had never before needed to be used this way, and Ray often felt a strange unease among them, especially from the Scholars. They often stressed that they had returned to the Monastery after their Pilgrimages to continue researching the mysteries of Lucidity and the Dream, not learn to fight. Most of them had little patience for martial ideas, except for Novis, who, after his own encounter with a Nightmare, seemed almost addicted to the thrill of it. The Monks, more pragmatic and focused on their cultivation, appeared to share his sentiment.

Ray lost track of how many dozens of days passed; time blurred and the Sun went by again and again. In her heart, Dio's Light shone, only once or twice did it flicker, too briefly and faintly for her to react. She told herself it was only inattentiveness during cultivation. That she was too focused on her training. And after a while, the instabilities did not return, and she slowly put her mind at ease.

Eventually, after a stretch of strangely weightless mood in her heart, a Sage arrived with four new travelers who soon settled into one of the houses. Finally, new Disciples had joined them.

Her thoughts grew strangely heavy as the others began whispering about Eri not accompanying them. It seemed that everyone there had known him, each having been brought to the Monastery by the Lone Wanderer, accompanied by the Sages from the regions near their points of arrival.

The atmosphere turned somber when, at dinner, Stirleo announced that Eri would not be returning for the foreseeable future. He admitted that he had kept it quiet to prevent anyone from trying to follow him or beg to go along. As he spoke, he cast a reproachful look toward the Scholars, and Tise glanced away in embarrassment. Even Nobea stared uneasily into her bowl of stew, trying to play it off.

Unlike Ray’s first days at the Monastery, when she would practically run into Nobea everywhere, she now saw her less and less. Slowly, Nobea had withdrawn into herself. Gone was her sharp, sarcastic edge, replaced by a quiet determination. She hardly spoke anymore and only approached Ray every few days to ask a question about Lucidity that Ray never knew how to answer.

During her nightly walks, which had become a kind of ritual for Ray, sometimes to visit Demoa among the plainhoppers, always hoping Rad wouldn’t be there, and sometimes simply to enjoy the stars and the full moon, she now often noticed a pulsing white glow tinged with azure on one of the towers rising near the ridge.

It could only have come from Nobea. She seemed to be training there, cultivating, yet the rhythm of her Light remained uneven.

What exactly is she doing up there? How is she trying to find herself? Ray often wondered. It doesn’t look much like humility.

Sometimes a particularly bright pulse would sweep across the valley, streaked faintly with purple and ocher before fading in a quick flicker. There were hints of determination in those flares, but they disappeared too quickly to truly stir something in Ray’s mind.

All these things became her life. The days still passed by, eventually so many she stopped counting. Of course, Ray kept training, always with the same sense that it still wasn’t enough. She had to practice more, gain more control, make Lucidity part of her everyday being, embody and embrace it fully, weave it into herself.

Still, not only did new people arrive to become Disciples, some also left the Monastery to begin their Pilgrimages. It didn’t happen often, about as rarely as newcomers appeared, yet each departure was celebrated with joy and only a trace of sadness.

It must have been more than six hundred days since her arrival when, one evening at dinner, Ormir stood up and went to the front of the hall, her face flushed red as she looked around uncertainly, unsure how to act. She fidgeted with her golden curls until she met Stirleo’s gaze. He had risen and stood beside her.

“I’m glad, Ormir, that you’ve taken this great step toward yourself,” the Abbot boomed cheerfully, as he always did when someone began their Pilgrimage. “Take good care of the people you meet along your path, and help them with your power wherever you’re needed. Move on when your work with them is done. Learn to sense when it’s time to use your Lucidity and when to hold it back. And when you truly understand yourself, not only turned inward as here but turned outward to the world, settle wherever you choose, and bring the Light into the Dream at your destination!”

He spread his arms wide in his usual exuberant blessing.

“Thank you! I’m going to the eastern mountains, to the place where I first arrived. I’ll meet some of the people who appeared there with me! Perhaps I will meet Lance; I’ll give him all the best from you!” she announced, just as brightly as Stirleo, now brimming with energy and determination.

Nobea muttered into her cup and poked at her porridge, casting jealous glances toward Ormir, just as she did every time someone began their journey away from the Monastery.

“She came so long after me…” she grumbled.

Her eyes met Ray’s only briefly as she looked around the room, her expression uncertain, as if still silently asking herself what she was missing. Then, suddenly, Nobea stood up so quickly she nearly knocked over her cup and rushed out of the room, her eyes glistening.

A heavy stillness followed. The laughter from a moment earlier now sounded hollow, echoing too sharply against the stone walls. Stirleo lowered his hands in concern, and Ormir looked almost as sad as Nobea, even though the two had never been close.

“Well then, let us drink to Ormir! May her journey carry Light into the Dream and enrich it. From this day forth, you are a Pilgrim,” Stirleo said, waiting courteously until Nobea was out of earshot before raising his cup.

This time, the cheer that followed was softer, touched with something fragile. The light from the candles trembled on the wooden tables, and for a moment Ray thought it might fade altogether. Yet laughter returned gradually, carried by habit and warmth. Soon, the room glowed again with that strange mix of joy and loss that seemed to define every farewell in the Monastery.

Later, as the night waned, Ray found Ormir in the corridor by the door, already wrapped in a traveler’s cloak that shimmered faintly with her Lucidity. Her now almost white-looking hair gleamed like frost under the lantern light.

“I’ll be fine,” Ormir said with a small, tremulous smile. “If you ever feel my Light pulsing, follow it. It’ll mean I’ve found something worth sharing.”

Ray hesitated, then pulled her into a brief embrace. Ormir’s warmth lingered on her arms long after she stepped away.

The others came to see her off at dawn. By the time her silhouette disappeared beyond the ridge, the first light of day was spilling across the valley, and it felt as though a piece of the Monastery itself had left with her.

That night, when Ray finally returned to her room, a gleaming oval shone on the slanted roof of the building where she slept, directly above Ormir’s chamber. The polished surface caught the heavenly light and reflected it like a second moon.

Ray wondered what she herself would one day change at the Monastery, what she would truly transform, to mark the end of her time as a Disciple and begin her Pilgrimage. She could already create an entire building if she wished, but she wanted it to mean something, to feel right. And before that, she had to learn more, to be ready, fully ready, for the darkness when it came.

And then... I will return to you, Dio. My love...

Suddenly she froze. She had never finished those thoughts. They had been too daring. She had only met him for mere hours, only walked with him for a short while. Yet he was still there in her heart, undeniably her most important Light. Had seeing Demoa and Rad made her realize? She hurried to wipe away a tear when she realized she longed more for his warmth than for the divinity of the Circle in her mind. But she had a responsibility to the realm, to Elga...

I have to keep training, for his sake as well.

She pushed open the bronze door of the building that housed her room and looked up the hillside toward the great tower, where Nobea’s Light still pulsed. This time it was even more unstable than before, like the desperate cry of an injured creature.

For a moment, Ray considered climbing up there. Yet Nobea would probably throw her down the tower herself if she disturbed her in such an intimate moment.

With a heavy heart, Ray stepped inside and closed the door.