Alex felt drained.

  It had been a long day. The Council, the soul-eating memories, the fitting with Elizabeth, and Roric’s endless energy, it was too much socializing for one lifetime, let alone one afternoon.

  He wandered the castle hallways, seeking solitude. He considered finding the dungeons, but dismissed the thought. Getting lost in a torture chamber wasn't his idea of peace.

  He found a narrow staircase against the outer wall and began to climb. The courtyard below was too crowded, and he had no idea where his room was. All the doors looked the same, and knocking on random oak panels until he found his bed seemed like a hassle.

  Asking for directions was also out. Roric had vanished the moment they left the Quartermaster, likely chasing a skirt, leaving Alex with a vague "Do take care."

  ‘Sidetracked again,’ Alex thought, remembering how Marcus had ditched him for Eli back at the university. ‘Some things never change.’

  He reached the top of the stairs and stepped out onto the battlements.

  The view stole the breath from his lungs.

  A horizon of jagged mountains stretched to infinity, their peaks piercing the clouds. The sky was a canvas of bruising purples and fiery oranges as the sun dipped low, painting the world in stripes of dying gold.

  Alex walked to the edge. He peered over the stone parapet. It was a deadly drop, a straight shot down into the mist-shrouded valley.

  He gripped the cold stone tight. The wall reached his neck, a comforting barrier between him and the void.

  “Good wall,” Alex murmured, patting the stone.

  He wasn't afraid of heights, exactly. He was afraid of the fall. But the adrenaline of looking down was… exhilarating.

  “This view sure is beautiful…” he whispered, the mountain range reflecting in his dark eyes.

  ‘Too bad it's just a dream, Alex.’ The thought soured the moment.

  “Oh, I see you’re here.”

  The voice was soft and calm, coming from behind him.

  Alex turned.

  Lady Elenora stood by the stairs. Her long grey robes swept against the stone floor as she walked toward him. A ray of sunlight broke through the clouds, illuminating her pale face and giving her a delicate, ethereal glow.

  “The view is amazing, isn't it?” she asked, joining him at the parapet. She rested her hand lightly on the stone, her gaze fixed on the mountains.

  Alex nodded, his throat tight. “It is.”

  “Many come up here to find clarity,” she said, her voice low. “Or to escape the noise below. The weight of so many souls in one place can be… heavy.”

  She glanced at him. Her eyes held a depth of understanding that felt unsettling.

  “You carry a different weight, Alex. One I do not fully recognize. One that even you aren't aware of.”

  Alex felt a chill that had nothing to do with the altitude. “What do you mean?”

  She didn't answer immediately. Her gaze followed the flight of a distant hawk.

  “Words aren’t always best at explaining things.”

  She turned fully to him. Her expression shifted, softening into something hopeful.

  ‘Wait… what's going on?’

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  Alex’s heart skipped a beat. For a split second, the world flickered.

  He didn't see the Shard-Maiden in grey robes. He saw a girl in a school uniform with lavender hair, smiling at him on a rooftop. The familiarity crashed into him like a wave.

  ‘It’s her. The girl from the dream.’

  But then, reality warped.

  Two perspectives clashed in his mind. The schoolgirl laughing. The Shard-Maiden watching him with sad eyes.

  ‘Wait. Wrong. How am I wrong?’

  ‘It’s just a dream. What dream?’

  His heart hammered against his ribs. Sweat slicked his palms. She was talking, her lips moving, but the sound was distorted, like audio underwater.

  “Al… Ale…. Alex!”

  [Warning: Fragment Drift Detected]

  His vision blurred. The stone wall seemed to melt under his hands.

  He swayed, the world tilting dangerously.

  “Alex, breathe!”

  A hand grabbed his arm. Warm. Real.

  “Breathe,” the voice commanded.

  The soothing tone worked like a spell. Alex sucked in a ragged breath. His heart slowed. His vision cleared.

  He was back on the battlements. Elenora was standing next to him, her hand gripping his arm to steady him. Her ethereal softness was gone, replaced by the sharp, practical alertness of a healer.

  [Anchor Detected: Those You Long For are within reach, yet worlds lie between you.]

  [Lucidity: +10%]

  [Fragment Recall: 1]

  “I’m… I’m sorry,” Alex managed, his voice hoarse. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I don’t know what that was. The height, maybe.”

  It was a weak lie. Her eyes told him she knew it.

  “The mind can be a treacherous place,” she said softly, releasing his arm. “Especially here, where the air is thin and shadows are long. What you carry may be heavier than you know.”

  She took a half-step back, giving him space.

  “I leave for Stoneheart tomorrow.”

  “Wait, what?” Alex asked, surprised.

  “Word has come. I must return,” she said. The sadness in her voice was profound, silencing the wind around them.

  “Return? Return where… how… why?” Alex protested, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

  Elenora stopped at the top of the stairs. She turned back one last time. The dying light caught the shimmer of tears she was desperately holding back.

  “Alex, please take care. I promise we will meet soon. When you find what you're looking for, come find me… I will be waiting.”

  And with those words, she descended the stairs and was gone.

  Alex stood alone in the gathering dark.

  “Damn it, Alex,” he muttered. ‘Are you going to just let it end like this?’

  ‘Wait. It's a dream. Remember? You might wake up any second.’

  His thoughts were a tangled mess. On one hand, he regretted his hopelessness at expressing himself. On the other, if this was a construct of his desires, why was it so painful?

  “Wait… if this is my dream, I should be able to do anything I want, right?”

  A profound realization rushed through him. Lucidity meant control. If he was aware, he should be a god here. He should be able to fly after her, stop time, rewrite the script.

  “But where to start?” he whispered.

  How does one control a dream? Is it mere thought? Willpower?

  His mind circled back to his theories. Dreams as echoes of the self. Dreams as windows to alternate realities.

  The second theory scared him, so he pushed it away. He focused on control. Lucidity wasn't enough. There had to be an unknown variable. A key he hadn't found yet.

  He felt it… just out of reach.

  “Ah, Alex. There you are, lad.”

  Heavy footsteps crunched on the stone.

  Alex turned to see Roric emerging from the stairwell.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Roric said, his voice cheerful and oblivious to Alex's turmoil.

  “Uh… well, I needed some air,” Alex said, his tone flat.

  “Well, if that’s all, I think you’ve had enough. It's getting late, and we have a long journey ahead. Remember? The Archives await.”

  Alex let out a long sigh, the mental fatigue finally catching up to him.

  “Right,” he said.

  Together, they descended the stairs into the night.

  Hey! Glassriver here...

  Just wanted to say a few things:

  Fragments of a Dreamer began with a simple question: How do you tell the story of a self that's coming undone? This is my attempt… an atmospheric, sometimes disorienting journey through dream logic and emotional echoes. It's a personal and peculiar project and I'm committed to its unique voice. I hope you find the fragments haunting in the best way.

  A few things to set the right expectations:

  Clear story Structure: I’m a planner and the story is structured as a Three-Book series, with the first book divided into “Three Distinct Arcs”.

  Pace and Focus: It's a slow-burn character and atmospheric story, focusing on deep lore and the careful threading of narrative details.

  Romance?: YES, But a slow organically developing one... Perhaps even a love triangle. However, I am one of those authors whose mind is controlled by the story and its characters, so relationships will unfold naturally.

  The Nature of Dreams: The realms in this story are constantly shifting. Settings, side characters and even aspects of the main cast can transform as dreams do. Some characters are mere fragments, others are whispers that affect the story deeply.

  If you have any questions leave them in the comment section. I will be sure to answer them.

  I hope you find this story haunting in the best way. Thank you for reading.

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