Dream

Lumian sat on the roof without going down immediately.

The expression on his face had long since faded. Quiet and solemn, he seemed like an entirely different person from the young man in the tavern who loved laughing and playing pranks.

Ever since he had accidentally discovered Aurora's miraculous abilities, he had wanted to acquire them himself. But Aurora always told him that they were not something to envy or pursue. Quite the contrary, they were extremely dangerous and fraught with suffering. Thus, she would never agree to let her younger brother take that path. Even though she did possess a method that allowed ordinary people to wield supernatural powers, she would not tell Lumian.

All Lumian could do was keep looking for opportunities to persuade and plead with her. He could not force her.

After ten or so seconds, Lumian rose, nimbly walked to the edge of the roof, and climbed back to the second floor down a wooden ladder.

He strolled to Aurora's room. Seeing that the brown wooden door was open, he poked his head inside.

Aurora, dressed in a lightweight blue dress, was sitting behind the desk by the window, writing by the bright light of a desk lamp.

What was she writing this late? Something about witchcraft? Lumian raised a hand to the door and joked:

"Writing a diary?"

"What respectable person keeps a diary?" Without turning her head, Aurora continued writing with the exquisite champagne-gold fountain pen in her hand.

Lumian protested:

"Didn't Emperor Roselle leave behind plenty of diaries?"

Roselle had been the last emperor in the history of the Republic of Intis, where the siblings currently lived. He had ended the rule of the Sauron Royal Family, then gone from consul to being crowned "Caesar," proclaiming himself emperor.

He had made several important inventions, including the steam engine, discovered a sea route to the Southern Continent, and sparked a wave of colonization. He had been the symbol of that era over a century ago.

Unfortunately, he had been betrayed in his later years and assassinated in the White Maple Palace of Trier.

After the emperor's death, several volumes of his diaries had circulated, but they were written in an indecipherable script that seemed to exist nowhere in this world.

"So Roselle wasn't a respectable person." Still facing away from Lumian, Aurora snorted.

"Then what are you writing?" Lumian seized the opportunity to ask.

That was what he really wanted to know.

"A letter," Aurora answered casually.

"To whom?" Lumian could not help frowning.

Aurora paused with her champagne-gold fountain pen, which was engraved with exquisite patterns, and checked the words and sentences she had already written:

"A pen pal."

"A pen pal?" Lumian looked a little blank.

What was that supposed to be?

Aurora laughed, casually tucking her golden hair behind her ear as she lectured her younger brother:

"That's why I tell you to read more newspapers and books instead of spending all day out fooling around, or even drinking!

"Look at yourself. How are you any different from someone who can't read?

"A pen pal is a friend you meet through newspaper columns, periodicals, or magazines. You've never met in person and communicate entirely through letters."

"What's the point of a friend like that?" Lumian cared a great deal about this matter.

He could not help taking his hand off the door and rubbing his chin.

Aurora had never even had a boyfriend. He could not let someone she had never met deceive her.

"The point?" Aurora gave it some serious thought. "First, emotional support. Fine, I know you don't understand what emotional support means. Humans are social animals. We need to communicate. There are certain things and feelings I definitely wouldn't share with the villagers, and I couldn't tell you either. I need a more private outlet, and a pen pal I'll never meet is perfect for that. Second, don't underestimate my pen pals. Several of them are very capable, and some are exceptionally knowledgeable. This battery-powered lamp, for instance, was a gift from one of them. Kerosene lamps and candles strain the eyes too much. They're no good for writing at night..."

Before Lumian could ask anything else, Aurora raised her left hand and waved it behind her:

"Go to bed, my little drunkard of a brother!

"Good night!"

"All right. Good night." Although Lumian was reluctant to leave it at that, he asked no further questions.

Aurora immediately added, "Remember to close the door for me. With the door and window both open, it's a little cold."

Lumian slowly closed the brown wooden door.

He walked back to his room, took off his shoes, and sat on the bed.

In the dim darkness of night, Lumian could make out the wooden desk against the window, the chair set at an angle, the small bookshelf against the side wall, and the wardrobe on the other side.

He sat quietly, lost in thought.

He had always known that Aurora had her own secrets and that there were many things she had never told him. None of that surprised him. He only worried that those secrets and matters might put her in danger.

And if something really did happen, there was very little he could do.

He was just an ordinary person with a somewhat sturdy body and a reasonably quick mind.

Thoughts surfaced one after another, then sank away again. Lumian let out a soft breath, left the bed, and went to the washroom for a quick wash.

Then he took off his brown jacket and threw himself under the still-cold covers.

Up in the mountains, the weather remained a little chilly in late March and early April.

In a daze, Lumian seemed to see a stretch of gray fog.

It filled his surroundings, making everything in the distance vanish completely.

Lumian walked with his mind clouded, but no matter which direction he took or how far he went through the gray fog, he always returned to the same place:

His bedroom.

A bedroom consisting of a bed with a white four-piece bedding set, a wooden desk and chair positioned across the window, a bookshelf, a wardrobe, and other furnishings.

With an exhalation, Lumian opened his eyes.

Morning sunlight filtered through the fairly thin blue curtains, lighting up half the bedroom.

Lumian sat up and stared blankly at the scene, with the uncanny feeling that he was still dreaming.

He had had that dream again.

He had dreamed of that seemingly endless gray fog.

He raised a hand to massage his temples and silently muttered to himself, It's been happening more and more lately. Almost every day...

Had the dream caused any ill effects, Lumian certainly would not have been as calm as he was now.

Of course, it had brought no beneficial effects either.

"I really wish there were some extraordinary opportunity hidden in this..." Lumian muttered, then rolled out of bed.

As soon as he opened his door and stepped into the hallway, he heard sounds coming from Aurora's room.

What a coincidence... A faint smile appeared on Lumian's face.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. He took a step back and stood at the edge of his doorway.

As Aurora's bedroom door opened, Lumian swiftly raised his right hand and pressed his temple, putting a slightly pained expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" Aurora noticed.

Success! Lumian cheered inwardly, pretending to struggle to compose himself.

"I had that dream again," he answered in a low voice.

Aurora's golden hair hung loose, and concern gradually crept into her expression:

"So the last approach didn't work..."

She thought for a moment. "Perhaps... I should find you a hypnotist. A real hypnotist, to see what's causing this."

"One with miraculous abilities?" Lumian asked deliberately.

Aurora answered with a slight nod.

"One of your pen pals?" Lumian could not resist asking another question.

"Why are you so concerned about that? Think about how to solve your own problem!" Aurora gave no direct answer.

Isn't that what I'm doing? Lumian muttered inwardly.

He followed up by saying:

"Aurora, if I became a Warlock, someone who wielded supernatural powers, I should be able to unravel the dream's secrets and put an end to it for good."

"Don't even think about it!" Aurora replied without hesitation.

Her expression softened:

"Lumian, I wouldn't lie to you. This path is dangerous and painful. If I had any other choice, if this world weren't becoming more and more dangerous, I'd rather be an ordinary writer and live a happy life."

Lumian immediately said, "Then let me bear those dangers and that pain. I'll protect you. All you'll have to do is live happily and do whatever you want."

He had gone over those words in his heart many times.

Aurora fell silent for two seconds, then suddenly broke into a smile:

"Are you discriminating against women?"

Without giving Lumian a chance to rephrase, she said seriously, "It's no use. Once you choose this path, there's no turning back.

"All right, all right. I'm going to wash up. Stay home and study properly today. Get ready for the unified higher education entrance exam in June!"

"If the world's getting more and more dangerous like you said, what's the point of taking an exam?" Lumian muttered.

He felt that gaining power was the most important thing right now, not working through exam papers.

Aurora smiled.

"Knowledge is power, my illiterate little brother."

Lumian had no reply. He could only watch Aurora enter the washroom.

That afternoon, in the village square of Cordu.

From a distance, Raymond Klegg spotted Lumian Lee squatting beneath an elm tree, apparently lost in thought.

"Aren't you supposed to be studying at home?" Raymond approached, his tone plainly envious.

He was Lumian's friend, a little under 1.7 meters tall, with brown hair, brown eyes, ordinary looks, and a slightly flushed face.

Lumian looked up and smiled. "Hasn't Aurora told you before? Even someone being hanged deserves a chance to catch their breath! I've studied for so long. I need a break."

Throughout the morning, he had kept wondering whether he could obtain supernatural powers without going through Aurora.

That would require searching, clues, and investigations of his own.

After thinking it through, he felt that the village's stories involving miraculous powers might hold some truth and certain clues. That was why he had come here specifically to wait for Raymond.

"If I were you, I'd rest for fifteen minutes at most," Raymond said, leaning against the elm tree. "We don't have a well-read older sister to teach us. Next year, I'll have to start learning to herd sheep."

Ignoring that remark, Lumian said thoughtfully, "Tell me that legend about the Warlock again-the one you told me last time."

Not quite understanding Lumian's intentions, Raymond recalled it with a puzzled look. "The one about the Warlock?

"There used to be a Warlock in the village. Then he died. On the day of his burial, an owl flew in from outside and perched on top of the bed. It didn't fly away until they carried the body out.

"Then the coffin became so heavy that it took nine oxen to pull it."

"How long ago was this?" Lumian pressed.

Raymond looked even more bewildered:

"How would I know? I heard it from my dad."