In the forest, before the half-naked men, I fall. I don't feel the pain.

  My friends are grabbed, seized. The assault is real, but my body won't move.

  I keep telling it to move, but it won't budge.

  Elydia, Fillip, Kaile, Martin... Was my dream really that serious? Can I be a hero if I'm unable to save anyone?

  My eyes slowly close. I feel a presence, a pressure so immense my body shivers.

  My eyes snap open. Before me stands a dragon. Its roar makes everything around it disappear like burning paper. Even the ground beneath me shifts into the color of the night sky.

  Breathing feels impossible, so I stop trying.

  Facing the dragon, I wonder what it's doing here.

  Everything points to me fainting or dying. I can't breathe. I can't move. Only observe. What makes me different from someone dead? If my spirit falters this fast, I can't hope to protect anybody.

  The dragon opens its mouth, moving it up and down.

  It's not screaming or roaring. It's more like it's trying to tell me something, but I can't understand.

  $@%#^@^&^^&**@^@.

  That's all I get from the gibberish. If that's a foreign language, then I might not make it out alive.

  Once again, I close my eyes, awaiting my fate.

  This time it roars. The sound startles me.

  The roar isn't scary. It's more like it's lecturing me for not trying to understand what it's saying.

  &%^%^&^##^&$&&&^.

  Sorry, but I still don't understand what you're saying. Why don't you try to say something I can understand?

  As I feel my consciousness drifting away, I hear it say:

  "Call me."

  Call me?

  It comes out so blurry I'm not sure I heard it right.

  I can't confirm it, so I'll just record it.

  The room is dark. The windows are closed. I'm not even welcomed by the morning light.

  Waking up, I move to the window. The sunlight surprises me. I close my eyes, then gently reopen them to admire the waking world. I see people passing by on the street below. I wave to them, and they wave back.

  For ten years, I've been occasionally having vivid dreams about that day, but I keep seeing the dragon.

  Ernest told me he wasn't the one who saved us, so who was that figure?

  When I had that first dream, I thought for a moment maybe I could get answers. That my childlike imagination could give a face to that figure to satisfy my curiosity.

  It didn't. Instead, I saw that dragon. That same dragon every time I have that dream. And even though it's roughly the same dream, I don't get used to it. It always feels like it's the first time.

  After having that dream, I developed a habit of noting what the dragon says.

  I pull out my drawer, picking up my notebook and pencil. Opening the first page, I read:

  || Listen.

  Say something.

  Don't you understand?

  You're not weak.

  ||

  I add "call me."

  I know I'm not really a reliable person. I think I've had this dream over a hundred times, and this is all I could remember.

  But from what I can see, this dragon is really trying to befriend me. It isn't hostile either.

  Of course, I haven't talked about my dreams to anybody. They might think I'm going mad. Having the same dream from time to time over ten years is crazy, after all.

  I don't think I'd take someone seriously if they told me that either.

  I run to the washroom for my morning routine.

  After washing myself, I head to the kitchen for breakfast.

  There's a covered plate on the table. Perhaps Ernest left it for me.

  My sleeping schedule must be rough on him.

  After finishing my breakfast, grabbing the fishing net and heading to the sea becomes the common process.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  It's been two years since I started living with Ernest. I'm not a burden like when I was a child anymore, so I naturally went back to my origins. I was always told I was his son, and nobody ever let me be adopted at the orphanage. Perhaps I've always wanted Ernest to be my father.

  My dreams about being a hero? They're somewhere there, but I feel like I'm not moving forward.

  On the way to the sea, I greet a couple of people on the road.

  Before making it to the fishing site, I always pass by the orphanage. Not for some noble reason or out of gratitude.

  All I come to see here is Elydia.

  She's outside watering the flowers.

  "Good morning, Ely."

  She pauses, setting down the watering can. Turning around, her long black hair follows the motion. She wears a very modest but beautiful dress. Her eyes are always so striking. It's too bad the world can't see their uniqueness.

  "Good morning? It's almost noon..." She smiles, amused.

  "We don't have a watch at home, unlike at the orphanage."

  "Well, good morning, then." She extends her hand for a handshake.

  Instead, I spread my arms, waiting for a hug.

  "Are you sure you don't smell like fish?" She covers her nose playfully.

  "Don't be so mean. You know I always come here before going to the sea." I pout.

  She laughs. "Well, I'll give you your hug." She steps forward and embraces me.

  She smells nice, unlike me, who barely takes care of himself.

  "You know, it's not fair to Ernest. He's really working hard for you." She pulls back from the embrace.

  I scratch my head. "You know it's been our routine for a while."

  "Still, it's not very fair to him."

  "He complains sometimes, but he doesn't get that angry."

  "Getting angry over someone who wakes up at noon and goes to work just so his dad doesn't complain? You don't really seem like someone who cares about him. It's more like you're just preserving yourself."

  Her words are sharp, but it's only because she's right.

  "Do you even have plans for your future?" she adds.

  "Of course. I want to become a hero." The response comes out half uncertain.

  I've used that word so much it's become a reflex to blurt it out.

  "I'm sorry, forget what I said." I scratch my head again. "Well, say hi to Marah for me." I turn to leave.

  "Oh, hey, wait!" She calls after me. "I'm sorry."

  She apologizes, but I don't know why. She's right, after all. My life has become so mundane. I trained as hard as I could, but my strength never came close to what's expected from an aspiring hero. Marah talked about spirits, but nobody knows anything concrete, so I really have no starting point to even begin pursuing my goal.

  The feeling of my life and thoughts being a lie keeps growing as time passes.

  I finally make it to the shore. This place has changed. It looks more like a rural port without the boats, but the fishing market has never been so prosperous.

  Greeting the surrounding fishermen, I spot Ernest from afar. He's pulling a bunch of fish out of the boat with the help of Kaile. Speaking of which, Kaile has grown pretty huge. I wonder if we're still the same age.

  They notice me.

  "Good morning," I greet.

  "Hey there, Everest!" Kaile's energy feels overwhelming. "You're always so early, huh?" His joke doesn't seem to lighten the mood.

  Ernest doesn't react.

  Tossing the fishing net onto the boat, I wait for Ernest to push the boat back into the sea.

  "I think you should stay here to negotiate the prices. I'll go back with Kaile." Ernest finally speaks.

  "No way, I'm too tired." Kaile stretches. "Leave the selling to me." He winks in my direction.

  Unconvinced, Ernest sighs. "Fine. I expect you to get us good prices on them. Your salary depends on it."

  The boat is pushed into the sea. Ernest and I board it. I maneuver it like I've always been taught.

  "Are you unhappy with me?" Ernest mutters.

  Startled, I take time to reply. "Of course not. I'm very happy with you. You gave me a home, a life, and you put up with my whims. If anything, I should be the one asking that question." I force a nervous smile.

  "Then why don't you tell me anything? You're not acting like someone who'll live a great life. Maybe your friends can help you, but I'd be more reassured if I knew what you're planning for your life. Tell me, Everest... what do you want to be?"

  I lose track of what I'm doing, searching for a lie to appease him. The truth is I never had any other goal. Losing this dream of mine makes me feel hollow. Nothing ever excited me that much. Maybe I'm still immature. I can't move on.

  "Everest!" Ernest extends his hand.

  He's drifting far away. Oh no, I'm falling. What an embarrassment.

  My body suspends above the water. I wonder if this isn't another dream. I look up, seeing a blue transparent wolf on the boat, biting through my clothing so I don't fall. It looks like the dragon from my dreams. It gives me that same particular feeling, that overwhelming presence.

  The wolf pulls me back onto the boat, then like mist blown by the wind, it vanishes.

  My heart hammers against my ribs. My hands shake. That was real. That thing was real.

  "Everest, are you alright?" Ernest pulls me into a tight embrace.

  "What was that wolf just now?" I ask, half shocked, still staring at where it disappeared.

  "So you can see it, huh?" he mutters quietly.

  I turn to face him fully. "Ernest, what was that? Was that a spirit? A guardian spirit?" The questions tumble out. "You have one? Why didn't you tell me? How long have you had it? Can I get one too?"

  Ernest raises a hand, stopping my barrage. "Slow down. Yes, that was my guardian spirit. I've had it since I was 25." He looks out at the water. "I didn't tell you because... I wasn't sure if you'd ever manifest one. Not everyone does. I didn't want to give you false hope."

  "False hope?" I grip the edge of the boat. "Ernest, I've been dreaming of being a hero for ten years. I've been training, working, waiting for something, anything that would tell me it's possible. What could be false hope?"

  "I wanted to protect you from disappointment and thought you’ll give up on that dream." His voice softens. "But I see now that was a mistake. You were going to chase this dream regardless."

  I sit back, processing everything. The dragon in my dreams. The wolf that just saved me. Spirits are real. They're actually real.

  "You know, it's not something you can force. The spirit has a special way to come." He places a hand on my shoulder. "But if you're serious about this path, I can at least show you the basics.”

  A flicker of hope lightens the hollow of my core. I shouldn’t be too optimistic.

  After the incident, the fishing day continues as it usually does, but everything feels different now. The water looks brighter. The air tastes sharper. I'm aware of every sensation, searching for that feeling again, that presence.

  Making it back to shore, Kaile runs to help us. "Hey, hey, I did great!" He cheers.

  "First help us with these fish," I call out.

  We transfer all the fish into barrels before setting them up for sale. Ernest positions himself at the front before asking Kaile how much he made.

  "300 royas!" He puffs out his chest proudly.

  Ernest slaps him lightly on the back of his head. "You idiot. Those fish were worth at least 500 royas."

  "But I did my best to sell them high!" He rubs his head.

  "Try harder next time."

  "Okay, boss."

  Boss? Is this how he sees Ernest now? Thinking about it, I realize every one of my friends has decided to follow a path. Only I'm slacking.

  "Ernest."

  He stops his banter with Kaile, turning to face me.

  "I want to become a hero."

  This time I am sure, at least I want to try before failing.