Klen didn't wake immediately.
His body was being worked on—hands pressing, bandages tightening, the dull sting of medicine seeping into torn flesh—but his mind was far away, drifting through something heavy and numb. He felt neither pain nor relief. Only stillness.
Then, awareness crept in.
He opened his eyes.
There was nothing.
No floor. No sky. No walls. Just endless darkness stretching in every direction. He wasn't standing or falling—his body felt weightless, unreal, as if he existed only because he was thinking.
Klen turned slowly. "Hello…?"
No response.
Then he heard it.
Crying.
Faint at first. Broken. A girl's voice, trembling and uneven, cutting in and out like it was struggling to exist. The sound clawed at his chest, unfamiliar yet deeply unsettling.
Then words followed.
Not a language he knew. Not even complete sentences. Just fragments—pleading, desperate, spoken through sobs. He couldn't understand a single word, but the emotion behind them was unmistakable.
He drifted toward the sound.
As he moved, the darkness around him began to change. A dull red tint bled into the void, faint but spreading. Shards—glass-like, crystalline—floated aimlessly around him, fractured and sharp, suspended in the empty space.
The crying grew louder.
And then he saw her.
A girl knelt in the void, chains wrapped tightly around her arms and body, disappearing into the darkness behind her. Her black hair hung loose and tangled, obscuring parts of her face. She wore a white dress, torn and dirtied, clinging weakly to her thin frame.
She was shaking.
Sobbing.
Klen slowed, unease settling in his gut.
Then he noticed the body beside her.
It lay twisted on the unseen ground, unmoving. Limbs bent unnaturally. Skin pale. Broken.
The face—
His breath caught.
It looked like him.
Not perfectly. But close enough that his stomach turned. The resemblance was unmistakable, and the sight sent a cold shiver through him.
He drifted closer, hesitating. "A-Are you… okay?"
The girl lifted her head.
Her eyes were red, glowing faintly as she looked straight at him. She began speaking rapidly, chains rattling as she reached toward him, her voice cracking with desperation. Whatever she was saying, it felt urgent—like a warning or a plea.
Klen raised his hand without thinking.
Then the ground vanished.
He fell.
The girl's sobs echoed around him as the void swallowed everything, her broken voice overlapping itself until it became noise, then silence.
Klen gasped awake.
Pain slammed into him instantly—real, sharp, grounding. He stared at the ceiling of his room, chest rising unevenly as he sucked in air. Bandages wrapped tightly around his body, pulling with every movement.
He lay still, letting the world settle.
Sunlight filtered in through the window, illuminating the familiar garden outside.
Someone was sitting beside his bed.
He turned his head.
Lyra.
She was asleep, slumped forward, exhaustion etched into her face. Dark circles framed her eyes. Tear stains marked her cheeks.
He forced himself to sit up.
Pain flared, but he pushed through it.
Lyra stirred.
Her eyes snapped open—and widened.
"Klen…?"
Before he could respond, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around him, gripping him tightly as her body shook. She buried her face against him and began to cry.
"You idiot…" she sobbed. "You didn't wake up for three days. Three days…"
His breath hitched.
"…Three?" he murmured.
She nodded against him, gripping tighter. "I thought you weren't going to wake up."
He rested a hand on her head, unsure what to say. Relief, confusion, and something heavier tangled together in his chest.
The door opened quietly.
Marna froze when she saw him awake.
Tears welled instantly as she rushed over, pressing a trembling hand to his arm. "You're awake… thank the gods…"
For a while, the room filled with quiet crying.
Eventually, Lyra pulled back, wiping her eyes. "Father let you live," she said softly. "He didn't explain. Just… said you'd stay."
Klen blinked. "He did…?"
She nodded. "That's enough for me."
They spoke quietly after that. Marna brought food and medicine, helping him eat when his hands shook too much. Lyra stayed until exhaustion caught up with her, then left to rest.
Marna stayed behind.
As she adjusted his blankets, she spoke softly. "Lyra locked herself in her room during your duel. She wouldn't come out. She cried the whole time."
Klen looked down, fingers curling slightly.
"I don't… I don't remember how it ended," he said. "Nor what I did."
Marna replied. "Klen…" She didn't said anything further and simply treated him.
Klen wasn't convinced.
As the room fell silent again, his thoughts drifted back to the darkness, the chains, and the girl's broken voice.
This time, he didn't call it a dream.