Orin Alpheratz (15 years old) Location: Solaris Date: Year 873 / Crow Cycle (3) / Hunter's Day (7)

  Darkness.

  Orin was once again plunged into the deepest black.

  It wasn't the first time he'd found himself here. This strange void of nothingness. He lifted his hands instinctively, but as always, he couldn't see them. He tried to walk, to move, but the lack of any point of reference made it impossible to know whether he was truly moving forward... or standing completely still.

  What is this place? Orin wondered, his thoughts echoing in the void. Is it a dream again? Why does it feel so real? Just moments ago, I was preparing for the Hero's Trial... and now I'm here.

  As he pressed on, or thought he did, a strange dizziness suddenly washed over him. It wasn't painful, but it was disorienting. Like a pressure tightening around his brain, as if some kind of spell were acting directly on his mind.

  Then came the voice. Distant. Distorted.

  "Orin... can you hear me?"

  It repeated, over and over, gradually growing clearer, closer. At the same time, the pressure in Orin's head intensified, until—suddenly—a brilliant flash of light tore through the darkness.

  And with it... something began to take form.

  The dizziness vanished as quickly as it had come, and in front of him stood the figure of a young man, only a few years older than himself, perhaps eighteen. Orin instinctively knew he had never seen this person before... and yet, everything about him demanded attention.

  First, his striking crimson hair. A color Orin had only ever heard described in stories about Venerae, the great city of the northern continent of Dalius. A city said to be home to the Arkins, humans with elven ancestry and lineage so ancient it pulsed through their very blood.

  Second, his eyes. Vivid blue and glowing faintly, with an unnatural clarity. They sparkled with the kind of trained focus Professor Velorum had once described. A sign of one who had unlocked the innate power within their vision.

  And finally, his form itself. Though solid enough to register presence, the boy's body was faintly translucent, shimmering with a pale glow that softly illuminated the void around them.

  A presence that was both ethereal and unmistakably real.

  "Who... are you?" Orin asked cautiously.

  The red-haired boy looked at him thoughtfully, as if weighing how much he should reveal. After a pause, he finally spoke:

  "You can call me Wind."

  Wind? Orin blinked. That didn't sound like a name. It sounded more like a codename or something pulled out of thin air. His instincts flared in warning. This whole situation felt too strange to trust completely.

  “…Is that your real name?” Orin asked skeptically. “Because it doesn't sound very convincing.”

  Wind chuckled faintly, then gave a nonchalant shrug.

  "Of course not. It's the name I used while traveling incognito across the continent."

  But then, his expression shifted. The playfulness vanished, replaced by a heavy seriousness. A somber glint flickered in his eyes as he looked straight at Orin.

  "But we don't have much time for introductions. I would've liked to contact you sooner, but... certain complications made that impossible. And now, I'm afraid the situation has become urgent."

  "Urgent...? What are you talking about?" Orin asked, suddenly alert. His gaze darted around the black void, half-expecting something to emerge from the shadows.

  But Wind shook his head.

  "Not here. In the real world."

  With a snap of his fingers, the pitch-black void dissolved.

  The darkness peeled away like mist, transforming into the familiar sight of one of the academy's training grounds. Warm sunlight poured in through the arches, and the clang of metal echoed faintly in the air. Orin looked around, stunned.

  "How did you...?"

  "This is a dream," Wind explained calmly. "Everything you see is a projection formed by your subconscious. I merely pieced together fragments of your memory to recreate this place. For you, it's familiar. For me, it's the only way to reach you."

  He walked slowly past a rack of training swords, running his fingers along the hilts with a strange, almost nostalgic expression.

  "Where I am now... this is the only method available to communicate with you. While you're asleep, your subconscious becomes a doorway."

  Orin couldn't fully grasp what Wind meant by “where I am now,” but he could see it—clearly—in the boy's eyes. Behind that bright blue glow, there was something heavy. A sadness... or maybe concern. Whatever this dream was, it was the most vivid, most real one Orin had ever experienced.

  "I don’t understand... Who are you really? And why are you looking for me?" Orin finally asked, his voice quiet but firm.

  Wind met his eyes, his gaze steady, and his expression grew more serious.

  “There are many things I want to explain to you, Orin. But before anything else, there's something important I need you to do—immediately—once you wake up.”

  Orin blinked. “What?”

  “You must flee the academy,” Wind said, his tone low and urgent. “There's no time. Head west... toward the Dhamarr Desert.”

  Orin stared at him in disbelief.

  “Dhamarr? Are you insane?” he snapped. “That's the homeland of the Star Children. They'd kill me the moment I set foot near their borders. Even if I made it to the desert, I'd never survive. And besides...” Orin narrowed his eyes. “I have something important to do here. I'm not just going to run away because a strange boy in my dream told me to.”

  Wind didn't flinch at Orin's defiance. But his gaze deepened, his voice softening with urgency.

  “What if I told you that you, and everyone at the academy, are already in danger? That it may already be too late... That war has come to Solaris, whether you're ready or not. Whatever your mission is, whatever you're training for, none of it will matter if you're dead.”

  His words hung in the air like smoke. Orin clenched his fists.

  Still, after a long pause, he exhaled slowly and looked Wind in the eyes.

  "If what you say is true... then I'll act when the time comes. If war is truly coming to Solaris, I won't ignore it." His voice sharpened. "But I won't run either. I'm going to fight to protect the Empire. That's the kind of knight I want to be."

  Wind let out a long sigh, crossing his arms as a shadow of disappointment clouded his face.

  “I should've known,” he muttered. “Convincing you wouldn't be easy.”

  He lifted his gaze to meet Orin's, his expression now sharper, more resolute.

  “But let me make one thing very clear. Something you seem to be misunderstanding. The ones coming after you... are none other than the very Empire you're so eager to protect.”

  Orin's eyes widened slightly, but he said nothing. Wind's voice was calm, but each word struck like a blade.

  “You might not believe me now,” Wind continued, “and I don't blame you. But once you wake up... you'll see. The world as you know it is about to change. Completely and irreversibly.”

  A heavy silence settled between them.

  Orin's mind raced. The recent unease in Professor Velorum's and Aldulfin's words echoed again, clearer than ever. Warnings about the unrest across Solaris, about hidden tensions the Academy had tried to downplay. Could Wind be right? Could the war really have already reached them?

  Orin clenched his fists, hesitating, then finally asked in a quiet voice:

  “Does this war... have anything to do with the Church of Luminia? Or the Oracle of Solaris, Nicola Papin?”

  Wind nodded slowly, his tone cautious.

  “Most likely,” he said. “Which is why, if you value your life and those around you... stay far away from them. At least until you're stronger. Strong enough to survive what's coming.”

  Orin studied Wind carefully. Even though the figure before him was partially blurred, there was something unmistakably otherworldly about his presence. An energy that didn't belong to the realm of dreams, nor to anything Orin had encountered in the waking world.

  “Let's say I believe you,” Orin said slowly. “How do you know all of this? And why me? Why tell only me?”

  Wind's eyes widened slightly in surprise, then softened with contemplation. For a moment, it looked like he was searching for the right words.

  “I suppose the best way to answer that,” Wind began, “is by explaining where I am now. It's a strange place called the Time Stream. A realm that exists outside of the physical world, where the deities of this world can observe and even influence the different threads of fate tied to each person's life.”

  He paused, watching Orin's increasingly skeptical expression.

  “Of course, I don't have access to that kind of power,” Wind added with a faint smile. “But with some help, I've been able to reach a few people... through dreams, like this one.”

  Orin narrowed his eyes. “So you're saying you're a messenger?”

  “Exactly. I don't claim to understand everything myself,” Wind admitted. “But I do know that certain forces, powerful ones, are trying to interfere with events tied to individuals who are... significant to the future of this world. You're one of them, Orin.”

  Orin's brow furrowed. “Why me? What could I possibly have to do with all of this?”

  Wind's form began to flicker, his outline growing less distinct.

  “There's no time left,” he said urgently. “But if you follow my warning, if you flee, go west... to the Dhamarr Desert. There, truths await that may help you understand your role in all of this.”

  “Wait!” Orin called out as Wind's body began to dissolve into the air. “Just tell me one last thing, what are you? Are you a god?”

  Wind paused as only his silhouette remained, smiling gently.

  “No... I'm just a wandering spirit. A ghost,” he said. “Someone who once lived in your world... and no longer does.”

  And with that, Wind vanished.

  The academy's training grounds around Orin faded into formless white light, and just as suddenly, the world disappeared altogether.

  Orin's eyes snapped open. Sunlight filtered dimly through the clouds outside his window, casting a muted glow over his room. He lay in bed, surrounded by open books and scattered notes.

  That dream had been the strangest thing Orin had ever experienced. Even though everything he saw had felt almost too real, now that he was back in his quiet room, surrounded by the soft morning light, he couldn't help but question how seriously he should take it.

  “A war, huh...” he muttered to himself.

  He glanced down at the disorganized mess on his bed: books, scrolls, and notes scattered across the sheets. That's right... he'd spent the night studying everything he could about the Hero's Trial. And more importantly, he remembered that he had scheduled a sparring match with Eridus and Sirius that morning.

  “I'll think about that dream later,” he said to himself as he hurriedly got dressed. “Right now, I can't afford to be late.”

  After getting ready, he stepped outside into the cold air. The tree-lined path that led away from the dorms had lost its lush greenery, replaced by a delicate blanket of snow. Expected, considering it was already the Crow Cycle season.

  But as he walked toward the training grounds, a rising murmur caught his attention. It wasn't coming from where Eridus and Sirius would be waiting. The noise was coming from the direction of the academy's main gate.

  Curious, he changed direction and headed toward the front of the school.

  When he arrived, he saw a crowd of upper-year students gathered at the gate, arguing heatedly with a few professors. Orin couldn't make out what they were saying, so he began to step closer, only for a familiar figure to emerge from the group and intercept him.

  It was Ari Hamel, the girl with chestnut-brown hair and striking yellow eyes. One of the members of Leo Zosma's team.

  “What are you doing here, Orin?” she asked in a casual tone, though Orin didn't miss the subtle tension in her expression. Behind her, the commotion among the students continued to escalate.

  “I was on my way to the training grounds,” he said, glancing toward the crowd. “But then I heard the noise and decided to check it out.”

  “Oh, this?” Ari replied, gesturing over her shoulder with her thumb. “They're trying to convince the professors to authorize an expedition team to head toward the West Gate of Solaris.”

  Even though her tone was nonchalant, Orin noticed a faint furrow in her brow.

  “Did something happen?” he asked.

  “You could say that,” Ari replied, her voice growing more serious. “Word is... the West Gate is under attack. And the ones leading the assault... are the Star Children.”