There were no classes that day, but Elizabeth found herself walking toward the sorcery classroom anyway. She wanted to say goodbye.
As she stepped inside, a faint sense of nostalgia settled over her. The room was as chaotic as ever. Books and scrolls lay scattered across every available surface, half finished enchantments covered the chalkboards, and strange artifacts occupied shelves that looked one careless movement away from collapsing.
Somehow, it felt comforting, even though she hadn't spent all that much time here.
Her gaze eventually landed on Damon.
The professor was perched casually atop one of the desks, engrossed in a weathered sheet of parchment. Without looking up, he muttered something under his breath before finally noticing her standing in the doorway.
A broad grin spread across his face.
"Well, if it isn't my star assistant. What brings you here?"
Elizabeth returned a small smile.
"I came to say goodbye. And to thank you for everything you've taught me."
For a brief moment, Damon's grin faltered.
"...Ah."
He folded the parchment and set it aside.
"That's a shame, really. I would've liked to teach you a lot more." He leaned back with an exaggerated sigh before waving a dismissive hand. "On that note, try not to die. Finding a new assistant is a pain, and it'd be a real waste if the world lost such a talented sorcerer."
Elizabeth chuckled softly.
"I'll do my best."
"You'd better." Damon pointed a finger at her. "I've invested far too much time in you to let some Nightmare beast steal my favorite student."
He paused, then added with a crooked smile,
"Besides, I expect you to come back knowing enough to teach me something. Don't stop practicing your skills. That way I can give you even more tasks to help me with."
Elizabeth didn't even blink at the last remark. After weeks of serving as his unwilling assistant, she'd learned to translate the way Damon speaks. An insult meant approval, a complaint meant affection, and being told not to die was about as close to genuine concern as he ever came.
After saying her goodbyes, she left. Damon had grown on her, but she still hated his guts.
After that, there wasn't much left to do. She'd already called Tessie and said her goodbyes the day before; on the winter solstice, Tessie was especially busy, being one of the deployed Saints responsible for finding sleepers who ended up in dangerous places and guiding them to safety.
The only one left to call was her father, who to this day hadn't even reached out to her. So she spent the rest of the day practicing her water manipulation and the abilities that came with it. She also considered stockpiling water before she left, in case she happened to land in a desert. She wasn't entirely sure whether the water would follow her into the Dream Realm, but it seemed better to try.
When the sun was close to setting, Instructor Rock gathered them in the foyer of the Sleeper Center and led them outside. In the snowy parks surrounding the white building, other Awakened were leading their own groups of Sleepers to the same destination; the Academy's medical center.
The center looked more like a shrine than a hospital. Its interior held both highly advanced technology and some of the best Healers among the Awakened.
For the duration of their first journey into the Dream Realm, the bodies of the Sleepers would be kept safe in specially designed pods, sustained by the magical power of those Healers should anything go wrong on the other side of the Spell.
Of course, whether or not they woke up in the end depended wholly on the Sleepers themselves.
After entering the medical center, Instructor Rock didn't take them directly to the wing containing the Sleeper pods. Instead, he led them to a comparatively deserted floor and opened the doors to a spacious gallery, brightly lit by the crimson rays of the setting sun.
There, they saw rows and rows of wheelchairs. In each one sat a person with a blank, strangely peaceful expression. All of them were completely silent, motionless, and still. None reacted to the arrival of visitors.
Their eyes were empty as a fish's, staring blankly ahead.
Elizabeth knew immediately what she was looking at, and so did most of the other sleepers. The fragile warmth she'd created in the cafeteria shattered almost instantly and sank right back into its usual grimness.
Instructor Rock looked at the empty people with solemn eyes.
"There's a reason I brought you all here. Look well, and remember. Some of you may already know who these people are. For those who don't, they're called Hollow."
He gritted his teeth.
"Each one of them was once either a Sleeper or an Awakened. Some were weak. Some were strong. Some were even incredibly powerful. All of them perished in the Dream Realm."
"If you're lucky, once your spirit is destroyed, your body dies with it. If you're not, you become just like them. Hollow."
Instructor Rock's gaze drifted toward Caster and Nephis before slowly settling on Elizabeth.
"So don't die out there. Do everything you can to survive."
Half an hour later, the Sleepers had been led to their personal rooms and were preparing to enter the pods. Elizabeth stared at hers. This was where she'd spend the next several days, and it looked a hundred times better than the torture device at the stronghold where she'd faced her first Nightmare. If she was lucky, she'd spend no more than a week inside it. If she wasn't, well, at least she'd get to see her own coffin.
She dismissed her armor and stood bare, walking toward the pod.
At the same time, in one of the other rooms, a blind girl was helplessly trying to orient herself in the unfamiliar space, touching the walls and strange pieces of machinery with her hands. Tears streamed down her beautiful, doll like face.
In another room, the proud Legacy Caster stared listlessly at the floor, his lips moving, repeating the same strange phrase over and over. He was trembling.
Somewhere else, Changing Star Nephis, the last daughter of the Immortal Flame clan, looked down at her own hands. Beneath her skin, a soft white radiance grew brighter and brighter, her face contorted in a grimace of harrowing agony.
In another room, a short boy turned away from his sleeping pod and glanced down at his shadow, which trembled faintly on the floor.
Somewhere else, Awakened Rock lit a cigarette, staring down at two files on his desk and sighing heavily. Beside him stood a man with a single monocle, smiling brightly.
In another world entirely, a woman braved rough seas aboard a small boat, staring down at a photograph as a single tear slid down her cheek.
Elizabeth closed her eyes.
'Well. Dream Realm, here I come.'
In the vast echoing darkness, she heard:
[Welcome to the Dream Realm, Seiren of the last Haven!]
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End of Part One: Siren of the Last Haven.
Word count: 58,675.