CHAPTER 5: GUARDIAN
Yael had learned long ago that silence in the dreamscape was never peace.
He stood within it now, calling Suryel’s name into a place that answered him only with music.
Strings first, then piano.
A classical piece that swelled and receded like controlled breathing.
It surrounded him, pressed in from all directions.
Elegant.
Relentless.
“Suryel?” Yael called again, turning slowly as the sound followed him. “Where are you? Please respond.”
She did not answer.
He already knew why.
She had slipped.
Not drifted.
Not wandered.
Slipped, clean and fast, through a red door that had no right to exist.
Yael had seen it bloom the instant she stepped through.
Petals of color unfurled into a long hallway lined with colossal pillars, the ceiling arching high overhead, ribbed like the inside of a cathedral.
It swallowed her whole before he could reach her.
That was when Yael exhaled.
Long.
Controlled.
The kind of breath taken only when panic is not an option.
The feeling was familiar.
The exact same feeling as an overworked preschool teacher who had finally coaxed a roomful of toddlers into naptime.
Lights dimmed.
Mats laid out.
Silence achieved through miracles and snacks.
And then chaos kicked the door open.
Magnetic sand scattered across the floor.
Glitter rained like a curse.
Bright, sticky putty slapped eagerly into tiny hands that absolutely did not need encouragement.
Yael rubbed his face with both hands.
“Of course.” He muttered to no one, scanning the dreamscape for clues that might lead him to his ward. “This must be Helel’s doing. A bother, like always.”
It was also the same feeling of a nurse who had finally convinced a patient to stop pulling out their dextrose line.
The relief.
The victory.
The brief, blessed cooperation.
Only to return moments later and find the bed empty.
Window open.
Patient gone.
Across the street, grease dripping down their fingers as they devoured the most offensively delicious fast-food chicken in human history.
While fasting.
While monitored.
While absolutely not cleared for that.
Cosmic sigh.
Yael straightened, smoothing his expression into calm.
It felt as though someone clapped him on the back in passing.
A presence unseen but understood.
A silent acknowledgment: You did your best.
It had never been enough.
Yael had always allowed Suryel space in her dreams.
Exploration mattered.
Freedom mattered.
Growth and healing required room to roam.
But since Helel had started walking in again?
Since that presence had re-entered her orbit?
Yael had shifted.
He watched now.
Actively.
Constantly.
Operation: Get her away as fast and far as possible from that brother, had been initiated with urgency and caffeine-fueled resolve.
It was, objectively, the wrong move.
But effort deserved a cookie.
Even failed effort.
Every time Yael intervened, Helel’s interest sharpened.
Suspicion amused him.
Protection intrigued him.
And Suryel, caught in the middle, became infinitely more fun.
Helel had already formed three hypotheses about the situation.
He disagreed with all of them.
Canonically.
But terrorizing humans in their own subconscious had always been a hobby.
Especially when a brother hovered so obviously, so patronizingly invested.
Helel had begun stalking her dreams nightly.
Suryel was smart enough to ignore him while awake.
Street-smart.
Grounded.
Unimpressed.
So he followed her where she couldn’t slam a door.
So far, he hadn’t noticed that she could see him.
At least, not fully.
Helel’s instincts were one hundred percent correct.
His conclusions, one thousand percent wrong.
Yael, meanwhile, was operating at one thousand percent ‘Please just let me do my duty.’
Suryel’s human brain hovered at a solid one hundred percent ‘What the fuck is happening with my dreams?’
That imbalance could not last.
It peaked in a ballroom within the Dream Realm.
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The floor gleamed Lapis Lazuli.
Polished to a mirror sheen.
Above it stretched an Obsidian sky, vast and starless.
Somewhere far off, violin strings drew a slow breath.
Piano followed, measured and patient.
Suryel stepped into the space and slowed.
She joined the nondescript crowd lining the edges of the floor.
Faceless figures drifted around her, dressed in finery without detail, their attention fixed on the dancers gliding through the center.
Sleeves brushed past her arms, shoes whispered against stone.
She watched.
Then she noticed the mask.
Black and yellow.
Embroidered carefully into the shape of a moth.
It turned toward her.
Deliberate.
The wearer stood apart, still as a held note, watching her as though the crowd were only scenery.
When their eyes met, he moved.
Suryel glanced around.
To her left.
Behind her.
Past her shoulder.
Surely he was walking toward someone else.
He stopped directly in front of her.
The stranger inclined his head.
His back straightened as he bowed.
His hand extended, palm open.
Patient.
Waiting.
Suryel’s hand lifted to her chest.
“Oh.” She thought, warmth creeping into her cheeks as her heart skipped. “He’s asking me to dance. I’ve never danced before.”
The stranger smiled.
Thin.
Polite.
His hand did not waver.
She felt it then.
The teasing.
Like he could hear her thoughts and found them quietly amusing.
Suryel bit her lip, a spark of stubbornness flared, and she placed her hand in his with the firm intention of stepping on his toes at least once.
The stranger’s fingers closed around hers.
Warm.
Certain.
His eyes closed as he smiled, and he guided her onto the floor, movements not hurried.
Not hesitant.
Assured.
They bowed.
At first, they moved poorly.
Steps misaligned.
Bodies searching for rhythm.
A near-collision.
A laugh swallowed.
Then the dance shifted.
He adjusted once— Barely visible.
A change in pressure.
A warm palm on her back.
A subtle turn of his wrist.
The floor seemed to remember them.
He guided her into a waltz that felt written into the space itself.
His steps were precise.
Confident.
Intimate without being forceful.
The familiarity hit her sideways.
Too smooth.
Too easy.
Like standing on someone’s feet as a child, laughter bubbling as they spun you dizzy in widening circles.
Safe.
Held.
Trust without question.
Suryel frowned.
She hadn’t stepped on his toes once.
“It feels comforting,” She thought, brows knitting. “Familiar. But why does it feel… A little too delighted?”
The dip came without warning.
Fast.
Low.
Her breath caught.
Close enough that his breath brushed her ear.
Close enough to whisper a prophecy meant to last lifetimes.
Close enough to commit a theft.
His hair grazed her cheek as his mouth curved, just barely, into a smirk.
Her heart betrayed her with a sharp, traitorous beat.
Before she could recover, he pulled her upright and spun her into a flurry of turns.
The world blurred.
Music surged.
Suryel locked onto his eyes now.
Ruby red.
Bright.
Watching.
Suspicion sharpened.
Being held like this, supported so gently, felt wrong in how right it was.
“Comforting…” She thought in a daze.
Then corrected herself, with focused gaze. “No. Suspicious.”
Suddenly the crowd shifted.
Not parted.
Pressed.
Yael was there.
He didn’t shout nor hesitate.
He moved between bodies with practiced efficiency, one hand already reaching, already anchoring.
His palm closed around Suryel’s shoulder.
Firm.
Protective.
“Suryel.” Yael said, low but urgent. “We’re leaving.”
“Oh. Hey, Yael.” She started, instinctively polite even as her feet adjusted backward. “Thanks for the dance, but it’s time for us to go.”
She inclined into a small bow, ready to disengage.
But the stranger held on.
His grip tightened around her hand.
Warm.
Heavy.
Possessive.
Suryel felt it before she understood it— The change.
His eyes glinted red beneath the mask.
Yael’s body shifted again, subtle but absolute.
He stepped closer, placing himself just enough between them that the stranger would have to reach through him.
The stranger didn’t bother.
Instead, with his free hand, he reached behind his head.
Yael froze.
The ribbon slid loose.
The mask fell.
It struck the floor with a soft, hollow sound.
Helel smiled.
Suryel didn’t think.
Her fist connected with his face.
SMACK!
The sound cracked through the ballroom, sharp and final, like glass snapping underfoot.
Everything stilled.
Music suspended.
Breath caught.
Time blinked.
Helel’s head snapped sideways.
He staggered back a step, hand flying to his cheek.
Processing.
Booting.
Loading.
Yael swore under his breath and yanked Suryel backward.
She didn’t resist.
She recognized the face of a nightmare.
Already lifting her gown.
Already running.
Behind them, Helel bent forward, laughter spilling out of him.
Full-bodied.
Unrestrained.
Delighted.
It startled her enough that she faltered mid-step, turning despite herself.
Yael hissed sharply and pulled harder, placing himself between her and the sound without breaking stride.
Helel straightened slowly, wiping at his eyes as he smiled.
“Run.” He said lightly.
Not a command.
An invitation to try a futile escape.
They ran.
Shadows slid beneath their feet like a living treadmill, dragging, resisting, pulling them backward even as they fought forward.
Suryel jolted awake.
She sat in a biochemistry lecture hall, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead.
Students shifted in their seats.
Pages turned.
Pens scratched.
Her coffee trembled in her hands.
She stared down at it, exhausted, rubbing at her face as the remnants of sleep clung stubbornly behind her eyes.
A shadow stretched along the wall beside her desk.
She did not look.
It had followed her everywhere for a month.
“At least I’m not alone.” She joked silently.
Sleep had become optional.
Waking life continued anyway.
Days later, she walked home through crowded sidewalks.
Incense drifted from a nearby church.
Street food sizzled.
Fish guts stung the air.
Bells rang, signaling the end of mass.
Her thoughts wandered through anatomy, dissection, mortality.
Then time caught.
A sharp, unmistakable stop— Like a clock slamming its hand down.
Suryel froze mid-step and turned.
Across realms.
Azriel raised his head in the Archive Tower.
Something had shifted.
And this time, it was not a dream.
Author’s Note:
Lol, Helel, not even predators in the wild psychologically trip prey like that.
WTF.
Hahahaha.
This author sprays him Febreze since he chose to be corporeal as a bug.
