Night fell in the Sierra, a blanket of stars draped across the sky, untouched by city lights.
Mau lay on her woven mat, the red mark beneath her ear tingling faintly, pulsing like a secret drumbeat. Her body ached from the day's drills—combat, healing, precision—but her mind refused to rest.
As sleep crept in, the forest seemed to hum around her, whispering through leaves and shadows.
And then came the dream.
She was somewhere else. Not the forest. Not Tay Eming's hut.
A vast room with polished floors, sunlight spilling through tall windows. Rich fabrics, gleaming surfaces, the faint scent of flowers and perfume.
A younger version of herself stood there, dressed in silk, hair perfectly brushed. Hands glided over intricate designs—sketches of patterns she couldn't quite name. A soft, melodic voice called her, familiar and distant.
"Mau…"
She turned.
A woman—elegant, poised, eyes bright—smiled. Warm, but a little sad.
"Maureen," the voice corrected gently. "It's always been Maureen."
Her stomach tightened. She reached out—but couldn't touch. The vision wavered like smoke.
A man appeared then. Tall, stern, but gentle in a way that reminded her of Tay Eming's strength without the forest's wildness.
"Don't forget who you are," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Even when you are lost, you are ours. And we will find you."
And then, the dream twisted.
Shadows crept along the walls. Faces blurred. Hands reached for her. She ran instinctively, ducking, twisting, rolling as if the dream demanded combat. Each move felt practiced—trained—but she didn't know why.
She rolled behind a column, dagger in hand. Heart racing.
The shadows paused. Then one figure stepped forward: a man, calm, composed, calculating. He observed her like a predator.
"Interesting," he whispered. "Even here… she survives."
Mau's pulse quickened. Something inside recognized him. The forest, instincts, even dreams… all screamed danger.
She woke with a start.
The Sierra was silent. Only the wind whispered through the trees.
Tay Eming, waiting outside, observed her from a distance. He didn't need to ask what she saw.
"You're beginning to remember," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Or at least… feel the life you left behind."
Mau pressed her fingers to the red mark. A shiver ran through her.
"Who was he?" she whispered.
Tay Eming's gaze darkened briefly. "…Someone who made choices you were not meant to see yet."