Dream

Gentle evening breezes blew against them.

When Soren opened his eyes, he saw a very familiar sight: a crude house, worn bedding, and a faint smell of decay lingering in the air.

The room was very small.

There was almost no furniture, just a simple stove in the corner of the room, an empty rice jar, and a few hard pieces of black bread placed on the cabinet beside it. Soren sat up slowly, his expression looking somewhat strange. After carefully looking around, he pushed open the half-closed door.

The sunlight stung his eyes instantly, and the hubbub of human voices drifted in from outside.

Amber City. The slums.

Everything was just as it was in his memories, low shacks connected together, people walking past from time to time, and further away, he could even hear the chants of laborers hauling cargo.

"Brother!?"

A crisp, childlike voice rang in his ear, and Soren turned around to see little Vivian.

Vivian, even smaller than in his memories.

She looked only four or five years old, wearing old clothes that had been altered from adult garments. Her delicate little face was smudged with dust, and she was followed by a stout hound that had a rabbit clamped in its jaws.

In those years Heath was not yet old, and from time to time it would go out and drag back some prey.

"Brother?"

"Are you feeling unwell? Mom will be back soon! Let's go prepare dinner..."

Vivian's gaze seemed a little timid, as if she felt Soren was a bit strange today. She reached out with her small hand to grab Soren's palm, saying as if she were uneasy, "What's wrong with you? Do you not feel well?"

Soren remained silent.

Then he reached out and picked up the little girl before