Chapter 37
SOUL-WANDERING
Seryn
Our names echoed through the moonstone halls like a chant lost in time and space. The rumble of Gavrel’s voice sounded ahead of me, then behind, and then everywhere all at once. He was close; our bond vibrated against my ribs as if he’d plucked the golden string.
The air shimmered, and I blinked, trying to focus.
Fuzzy, multicolored hues lingered in my periphery, and no matter where I looked, they remained.
I reached out, grasping at glowing motes that moved like stars underwater.
My body swayed, and my mind felt … stretched, coated in swirling light and shadow.
I murmured his name, though I wasn’t sure if I’d spoken aloud.
Moonbeams speared through the vaulted quartz ceiling, fracturing into ribbons of blurred rainbows that stuck to everything—the rippling pewter doors lining the long hall, the curving stairwell hugging the foyer, and the glittering star-shaped crystals hanging from the chandelier above.
“Seryn?” My mother’s voice whispered to my left. I turned; no one was there.
“You’re here.” The echo swept from my right. I spun again. Nothing.
“Mama?” I cried.
“Seryn?” This time it was Gavrel’s voice, and he caught me around the waist as I stumbled in surprise. “Where are we?” he asked, words warm on my cheek.
“I think …” I hesitated, fingers gripping his hand. “We’re dreaming again. Back in Surrelia.”
Mama’s whisper ricocheted around me, “You’re close.”
“Mama!” I called again.
The prismatic light quivered, and before us, my mother stepped out of it. My chest ached at the sight of her.
She pulled me into a hug, her embrace solid but not, as if she were made of chalk that would break into dust if I squeezed too hard. She cupped my cheek and then smiled, leading us into the Great Hall.
Then a deeper voice rumbled from ahead. “Daughter.”
Papa.
The Ancient of Dreams sat tall on the obsidian throne atop the dais. His gilded eyes sparkled as they landed first on me, and then, his fated.
Morpheus rose, descending the stairs with impossible grace. “You’ve come farther than I expected.”
“We didn’t portal,” I murmured, words laced with confusion. “We just … were here. Are you in our dreams?”
He grinned. “On the contrary … You’re in ours.”
Mama went to his side. “Little Star, you wandered.”
The word hit me straight in my stomach. “Soul-wandering,” I breathed, recalling the term Melina had used when describing what happened to our astral bodies during the Dormancy.
Gavrel’s grip tightened, and I glimpsed awe and something like dread in his eyes.
My father’s smile widened impossibly, pride and amusement threaded through it. “You’ve touched the Aetherbind that connects our realms. Not with your body or ember, but with your will.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Intent is irrelevant. My blood runs through your veins,” he interrupted gently, his golden robes sparkling in the moonlight spraying through the lunar-phase windows behind him. “You’re dream-born, daughter. Descendant of Night and Day, of the Oneiroi.”
He gestured toward the exit, and we followed. Luminescence undulated as we meandered down the hall, doors opening as we passed them.
Through each one, glimpses of other dreams flashed. A city of floating lanterns. An ocean so still I thought it was made of glass until sirens and all manner of aquatic creatures suddenly danced in the depths. A sleeping child clutching a whittled wooden toy in the shape of a wyvern.
Gavrel turned, wonder and unease chasing each other across his features. “These are … other people’s dreams?”
Morpheus nodded. “The collective unconsciousness of the mortal realm. Every soul that slumbers sends a ripple here. But you, Seryn—you can ride those waves.”
I swallowed hard. “As you do.”
He chuckled, warm and deep. “No. My influence is akin to how the moon and sun command the ocean’s tides. You’re more of a swimmer.”
“As long as I’m not drowning,” I muttered.
A new, melodic voice resonated across the hall. “It’s possible. You must beware the undertow of the Somnis, Belladonna.”
The light shifted, and gilded sparkles poured from one of the pewter doorways.
“Phantasos,” I murmured as she stepped out, pale hair and dress flowing about her. She wore the face of the young seer from Ceto, skin smooth and dewy. Her strands twisted into intricate braids with gilded beads sprinkled throughout.
“You always had a flair for making an entrance,” Mama muttered, though fondness softened her words.
“You look well, Maya. I am pleased you are here.” The Ancient of Illusions smiled, then leaned toward Morpheus, the delicate slashes of her eyebrows lifting. “Brother.”
“Sister,” he responded, inclining his head. “It’s been too long.”
“It has.” She touched his shoulder lightly. “Welcome home.”
“A bit late, yes?” The corner of his lips curled.
“I go where the wilds call me.” She waved one hand and twirled toward Gavrel and me. “The Somnis hummed with your arrival, child.”
Morpheus sighed. “Don’t start.”
I held in a nervous giggle. It was fascinating to see the two Ancient siblings interacting, affection and a hint of irritation blending.
“Start?” she echoed, the outline of her body flickering. “I only listen to the Fates’ whispers, the dreamers, to the wilds. They all must wake, and so shall she. The Elysium Tree will make certain of it.”
A chill slipped over my spine. “You know about the Ascension?”
Her form wavered, but her luminous gaze didn’t as it fell on me. She brushed her fingers along my jaw. “I know the cost of becoming. Every seed must break before it blooms.”
Her enigmas had never been threatening, but there was something more ominous lurking beneath them this time. I stiffened, and Gavrel stepped forward. “That’s enough.”
My aunt tilted her head as though listening to something distant. “The Fates weave threads, whether or not you approve.” She looked at me again. “When the tide comes, look not to the stars, but to what hides beyond them.”
I rolled my eyes. “Bloody Vo—”
“Child,” she interrupted, and then her eyes darted up as if she were listening to something. She leaned toward me, eyes narrowing. “To cage one nightmare is to unleash another.”
Before I could respond, her form unraveled and fluttered away in a cloud of glittering dust.
Morpheus exhaled through his nose, tension etched into his face. “She delights in being nonsensical.”
My tongue pressed against the back of my teeth.
I didn’t entirely agree. Her words held a warning of consequences to come.
Frustrating as she was, Phantasos had helped us more than once, and her riddles tended to make sense only when they counted most. Still, now wasn’t the time or place to argue with my father.
And what was the use in allowing my mind to spiral from her words? Of course, there would be consequences to whatever path we chose.
Mama’s hand brushed mine, and I felt the faintest pulse of her midnight ember. “Back to the matter at hand—my daughter, the soul-wanderer.” She smiled. “What was your original plan for the ceremony?”
“Well, I thought I could just portal when it was time for the Ascension,” I admitted and then wiggled my fingers. “And what the void is the ‘Insomnis’? Like the sea?”
Mama’s eyes softened. “Somnis, sweetheart.”
Morpheus inclined his head. “You’ve touched Surrelia and the Nether Void’s surfaces, yes.
The dreamlands that shelter astrals during death or Dormancy, and the nightmarescapes that punish.
” He circled his hand in the air, and threads of golden light spiraled outward like ripples across still water.
“But hidden between the seams flows the Somnis, where memories and souls become one. It is the tide of dreaming itself. It is there that the Oneiroi guide dreams and navigate the currents of the psyche.”
His expression darkened slightly, expression reverent and somber. “It is not unlike the Insomnis Sea. Both are boundless and connect distant shores, their depths holding many wonders and terrors alike. And both can drag you into their darkness if you stray too far from the light.”
My hand fluttered to my neck, and I gulped, trying to ignore the flicker of old memories. The rush of cold water pulling me down, filling my lungs.
Gavrel weaved his fingers through mine. “The Elysium Tree—”
Morpheus continued, “Its roots burrow deep into that space and act as a conduit. With the sea, the body needs breath and soul to survive. But with the Somnis, you must let your spirit splinter from flesh, offer your breath and blood to the banyan so it may anchor you in the tide.”
“So my body—”
“Must stay in Midst Fall,” Mama finished. “But your astral body can travel. It won’t be easy, but that’s what the ritual demands.”
Gavrel frowned. “Why?”
The Ancient’s golden gaze swept over us. “You think Ascension is a simple ceremony. A task you finish.”
I sighed. “Isn’t it?”
A bittersweet smile curled Mama’s lips. “No. I know better now. It’s not just an offering. It’s surrender.” She placed her palm over my heart for a moment. “You give everything you are, so something greater may decide if you’re worthy to keep it.”
I lifted my gaze to the prisms above, ignoring the prickles needling my spine. “Mama … I thought you once told me that every time a mortal crossed, it frayed the Aetherbind.”
“Reckless crossings do,” she responded softly. “Slipping into dreams outside of your khorda’s tears at the veil. But a ritual crossing is different. The Elysium Tree holds the boundary steady, so it isn’t harmed.”
Morpheus stepped closer, each of his words careful.
Deliberate. “Because Ascension is a convergence. The full moon cracks open the Oneiric gate between the Somnis and the realms, and the banyan links them. When flesh and spirit divide, the sacred tree weighs a Scion’s worth and forges the bond that ties them to Kosmos itself. ”
“And if the tree finds me wanting?”
“Then it won’t bind you,” he replied simply. “Your ember and physical form will wither, and your soul will drown in the aether.”
“Bloody fucking Void,” Gavrel hissed, his jaw tensing.
Silence swelled through the hall. The splintered moonlight danced across everyone’s faces.
“But you won’t fail,” Mama stated firmly. “The Elysium Tree has known you since before your first breath—since the moment you were conceived in the Somnis.”
I looked away, my throat choking on a response.
“You’re telling us that the bloody tree found Melina worthy? Lucan and Ryboas?” Gavrel growled, disbelief roughening his tone.
Morpheus’ nostrils flared, but his voice remained even. “It weighs a Scion’s worth at that moment in time, their potential to ascend. What happens beyond that is between the Elder and the Fates.”
Gavrel’s stance widened, hand flexing at his side. “What happens if Seryn can’t come back?”
My mother’s expression softened. “Your bond will anchor her. It’s how you keep finding one another.”
Gavrel and I exchanged a glance, and my eyes drifted to his tunic, where his scar lay hidden.
Morpheus waved his fingers between Gavrel and me. “That thread was forged the moment your souls were torn apart. Though his talisman dulls it, no rune can fully sever a khorda bond.”
I rubbed my thumb over the etched pendant at my throat, and Mama’s eyes followed the motion. “And Melina?” I asked, trying to keep the tremor from my voice.
“She needs to be near you in Midst Fall.” Mama tucked my wayward curls behind my ear. “Her gift will respond to the ritual—it’ll know you. She’ll resist, but she won’t be able to hide from your ember, Little Star. Though the ceremony typically needs full cooperation—”
“I can drain her without it.” My tone came out harsher than I meant, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
“You could, but the Elysium Tree weighs the spirit as well. Taking her energy by force could leave a lasting stain,” Mama said softly.
My brow furrowed. “I’m not planning to hurt her. But if she attacks first—”
“She will,” Gavrel said grimly.
“Then it isn’t a choice,” I murmured.
“It always is.” Mama took my hand in hers and squeezed. “You’ll know the difference between mercy and vengeance when the moment comes. Trust that you’ll choose right.”
I wanted to believe her. And despite my aversion to the Fates, I wanted to think I could still do this the way they intended. Through offering, not theft.
But deep down, I knew Melina would never kneel, would never yield her power willingly.
Not to me.
Not to anyone.
I clutched my rune stone. “If the Elysium Tree demands her ember, I’ll make sure it gets it. One way or another.”