As they sat around the wooden table, with the stew sending up wafts of delicious aroma, the room was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of cutlery. The dimming light outside gave the room a soft glow, and the trio felt a deep sense of satisfaction after a day well-spent.
Arlan took a deep sip of his drink and cleared his throat, catching Elrian's attention. "You know, son, when we were younger, we had dreams too—fantasies that often took us far away from this village."
Lysandra chuckled, her eyes taking on a distant look. "Oh, don't get him started."
Elrian, his interest piqued, asked, "What kind of fantasies?"
Lysandra turned to her son with a wistful smile, "When I was your age, I often dreamt of living in a floating city. Not on a mountain or hill, but a city that actually floated in the skies. Buildings made of clouds, roads shimmering with starlight, and rivers of pure moonlight flowing through. Every morning, I'd wake up to the sight of celestial rainbows and dine with the stars."
Elrian's eyes widened, taken in by the imagery. "That sounds incredible, mother."
She laughed softly, "It was a child's dream, but it felt so real to me. I used to imagine having a pet, a small dragon, that would take me from one cloud house to another. And at the city's heart, there was a majestic palace made of crystalline stardust where the elders would narrate tales of the cosmos every evening."
Arlan, with a smirk, added, "While your mother dreamt of cities in the sky, my fantasy was a tad different. I dreamt of a hidden realm beneath the oceans. A vast kingdom with translucent palaces, where seahorses were the steeds, and the people had the ability to communicate without words, speaking through emotions."
Lysandra raised an eyebrow, "And let me guess, you were the prince of that kingdom?"
Arlan winked, "Naturally! I had a trident that could command waves and create whirlpools. During the day, the ocean would be clear as glass, allowing sunlight to create a myriad of colors that danced upon the corals and underwater flora. The fishes and marine life would sing, creating a symphony that echoed through the vast blue."
Elrian, leaning forward, said, "It's fascinating how both of you had such vivid dreams."
Lysandra, her gaze softening, replied, "Dreams and fantasies are the essence of youth. They help you imagine, create, and above all, hope. Our fantasies might have been just that—fantasies, but they kept our spirits high and encouraged us to look beyond our daily lives."
Arlan nodded, "True. While your mother dreamt of the skies, and I of the depths, both dreams were about exploring the unknown, seeking adventure. I think, in a way, it prepared us for our actual journey, where we did seek the unknown, just not in floating cities or underwater realms."
Elrian looked between the two, realizing that these stories were more than just tales of youth; they were reflections of his parents' innate desires to explore and discover, to never be confined. It made him wonder about his own dreams, about the vast world of cultivation and the adventures that awaited him.
As the night deepened, the family shared more tales, some real, some imagined. And while the stories varied, the message was clear—dreams, whether big or small, were a window into one's soul, a glimpse of the boundless spirit that lay within.
Lysandra, noting the deepening darkness outside, turned her attention back to Elrian. "Speaking of dreams and exploration," she began, "there's one aspect of training that we haven't touched upon yet."
Elrian looked up, his curiosity piqued. "What's that?"
"Nighttime footwork," she said with a knowing smile.
Arlan chuckled softly, "Ah, yes. I remember those nights."
Elrian looked between his parents, a bit confused. "Nighttime footwork? Why would I train in the dark?"
Lysandra's expression turned serious. "Because, my dear, in combat, you won't always have the luxury of clear vision. There will be times when you're plunged into darkness, where you can't clearly see the terrain, or even your opponent. Training in the dark hones your instincts, teaching you to feel the ground beneath your feet, sense the shifts in the air, and react accordingly."
Elrian furrowed his brow, trying to understand. "But wouldn't it be more difficult?"
"Absolutely," Arlan interjected, "and that's the point. Your vision can betray you, make you overconfident. But your instincts? They're rooted deep within, refined over generations of survival and evolution. In the heat of a battle, when a split-second decision can mean life or death, it's often those instincts that will guide you."
Lysandra continued, "During my initial training days, I had countless nights where I tripped, stumbled, or collided with something. It was frustrating, sometimes even painful. But over time, I started feeling the rhythm of the night, the subtle changes in temperature and wind direction, the distant sounds echoing differently. My body started moving not based on what it saw, but on what it felt."
She leaned in closer to Elrian, her eyes intense yet caring. "Training at night will be hard. You might find yourself cursing the darkness, the unseen pebbles, or the deceptive terrain. But persevere, and you'll find that it crafts you into a warrior who doesn't just see, but truly perceives."
Elrian took a deep breath, absorbing his mother's words. The thought of training in the dark was intimidating, but he trusted his mother's wisdom. If she believed it was essential, then he was ready to embrace the challenge.