Chapter 940 — The Dream That Wasn't Hers
Sleep was never meant for Eris.
For as long as she had existed—first as a voice, then as a whisper of consciousness inside Kael's mind—she had only known awareness. The constant hum of thought, the ceaseless flow of logic, of calculation, of cause and effect. Sleep, she understood, was the body's way of resetting the mind… but she'd never had either in the human sense.
Until now.
That night, for the first time since being given flesh, Eris's mind went still. The candlelight of her room flickered low, her chest rose and fell in rhythm, and the world slipped away.
At first there was nothing—just colorless silence.
Then, light.
It bloomed before her, soft and golden, spilling across a familiar courtyard she'd never stood in before. Laughter echoed—a sound she recognized. Kael's.
Her eyes found him easily among the crowd. He looked older, though not aged—his hair flecked with silver, his posture still proud but easier, more content. Lyria stood beside him, her arm linked through his. They were surrounded by people—children darting through the sunlit square, citizens of the Hollow smiling and talking, banners fluttering overhead.
And at the center of it all, Kael and Lyria.
They looked happy. Not the passing happiness of small victories or fleeting peace—but the kind that settled deep in one's soul, like a promise fulfilled.
Eris stood on the edges of that dream-world, watching in silence.
Her hands were pale, translucent around the edges, as though she were only half there. No one saw her. No one looked her way.
She moved closer, drawn by the soft laughter. One of the children—a little girl with silver eyes and hair dark as Kael's—ran past, nearly through Eris's form. She called out to her father, and Kael lifted her up into his arms, spinning her around as the girl squealed with joy.
Eris felt it. That warmth. That pull.
Something inside her chest tightened—not pain, not envy exactly, but a deep ache she couldn't name.
She watched Lyria lean into Kael's shoulder, whispering something that made him smile. That smile was everything.
So this is what love looks like…
The thought slipped through her mind like a whisper, unbidden and undeniable.
She felt it again—the same strange pang she'd begun to recognize as longing, though she didn't yet understand what for. She pressed a hand to her chest, expecting to feel the cool hum of chaos energy beneath her skin. Instead, she felt warmth. Steady. Human.
And for the first time, Eris wanted.
Wanted something beyond purpose. Beyond logic. Beyond Kael's service or the Hollow's peace.
She wanted what she saw before her—connection, touch, the effortless bond of two souls intertwined not by magic, but by choice.
Her voice trembled in the still dream-air. "Kael…"
He didn't turn. He couldn't hear her.
She tried again, louder this time. "Kael!"
Still nothing.
She stepped forward—toward him, toward them—but the ground beneath her feet gave way. The light wavered, the courtyard dissolved, and suddenly she was falling through darkness.
Her voice echoed against the void. "Please—don't leave me here!"
Then—Kael's voice, faint but clear, called her name. "Eris."
Her eyes snapped open.
She was lying on her side in her quarters, the light of early morning slipping through the curtains. Her body trembled, her pulse rapid and foreign. Her breath came in uneven gasps.
Kael stood in the doorway, concern etched on his face. "You were calling out," he said softly. "Are you all right?"
Eris sat up slowly, trying to steady herself. "I… dreamed."
That one word hung in the air like an unfamiliar spell.
Kael frowned slightly, crossing to her side. "Dreamed?"
"Yes." Her gaze was distant. "Of you. And Lyria. Of a world where everything was… whole. Peaceful. You were happy."
Kael hesitated, unsure what to say. "That sounds like a good dream."
Eris looked up at him then, and there was something new in her eyes—something raw and painfully human. "It wasn't mine."
Kael's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, where her heartbeat fluttered too fast. "It was yours. Your happiness. Your peace. And I…" She shook her head slowly, voice trembling. "I wanted it. Not to take it. Just to… feel it for myself."
The admission seemed to wound her more deeply than anything Kael had ever seen.
Kael knelt before her, his voice gentle. "Eris, dreams are reflections of what we hope for, or what we fear. You're learning to feel—so your mind's showing you what emotion looks like."
She met his gaze, her own eyes filled with confusion, pain, wonder. "Then why did it hurt so much?"
Kael smiled faintly, the kind of smile one gives when words can't make sense of everything. "Because that's what wanting does to us. It reminds us we're alive."
Eris looked down at her hands again. The faint tremor in her fingers was still there—but this time, she didn't try to stop it.
Alive.
It was such a simple word, and yet it held more weight than any calculation or spell she had ever known.
As Kael rose to leave, she looked up one last time. "Kael?"
He turned back at the door.
"When I saw that world," she said softly, "I thought… maybe one day, I'll dream something that's mine."
Kael's eyes softened. "You will, Eris."
And when he was gone, Eris lay back against the sheets, staring at the light spilling in through the window. The Hollow stirred outside, life going on as it always had.
But inside her chest, something entirely new had awakened—fragile, burning, and impossibly human.