Elrian's room was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the luminescent pearls providing any light. As he sat down, attempting to cultivate, a pervasive sense of emptiness overwhelmed him. Instead of the harmonious flow of Qi he was used to, he felt a tightness in his chest, like chains were wrapping around his heart.
He tried to concentrate, to reach out and connect with the Qi in the environment, but it was as if an invisible barrier blocked his path. Haunting images of the wolf's pain-filled eyes and his father's bleeding wound danced in front of his vision, refusing to be dismissed.
A heaviness settled within him, memories and emotions intertwining and tightening their grip. Whispered accusations echoed in his ears, *"Your fault... Too weak... You failed them..."* Those whispers, though intangible, felt more real and pressing than anything he had ever experienced.
In the realm of cultivation, this experience, this internal confrontation with one's own emotions and traumas, had a name: a heart demon. But Elrian, in his youthful innocence, had no knowledge of this. He didn't know that he was in the midst of facing one of the most challenging obstacles a cultivator could encounter.
To him, it just felt like an insurmountable wall of self-blame, regret, and fear.
Rather than fighting it, Elrian's lack of understanding made him more vulnerable. The weight of the emotional turmoil was too much, and without the wisdom to navigate these treacherous waters, he unknowingly allowed the heart demon to seep deeper into his core. Instead of confronting and dispelling these feelings, he let them consume him, drowning in the sea of despair they created.
He lay down, tears soaking his pillow, a sense of hopelessness surrounding him. "Why can't I shake this feeling? Why does everything feel so heavy?" he whispered to himself. The more he ruminated on these thoughts, the stronger the heart demon's grip became.
Elrian's slumber was anything but restful. As darkness engulfed him, the nightmares began. The forest, once a place of adventure and learning, transformed into a shadowy realm of terror. The trees seemed to whisper his failures, every rustling leaf echoing the accusations of his heart.
In the dense woods, he could see the very same wolves they had battled earlier, but now, they were different – their eyes glowed with a malevolent red hue, their fur shimmered with an ethereal darkness. At the forefront was the wolf he had hesitated to kill, its eyes filled with a mocking cruelty.
It lunged at him, but instead of attacking Elrian, it went straight for Arlan. Elrian reached out, screaming, but it was too late. In his dream, the wolf's fangs found Arlan's throat, and with a sickening crunch, the life faded from his father's eyes. Elrian's heart felt like it was being ripped apart, the pain so palpable it transcended the dream.
Next was Lysandra. The wolves encircled her, their growls echoing eerily in the haunting silence. With a grace and fierceness, she fought them off, but the wolf he had spared was not to be denied. It lunged, catching her off guard, and in an instant, she too was gone.
The forest around him began to change. Trees twisted into grotesque shapes, the earth beneath his feet turned to quicksand, pulling him down. The wolves, their numbers increasing exponentially, began to march out of the forest, descending upon villages, towns, and cities. The havoc they wreaked was unimaginable. Fires raged, buildings crumbled, and the screams of countless innocents filled the air.
At the center of this devastation stood a colossal wolf, far larger than any other, its form radiating a divine yet sinister aura. It was as if the very embodiment of Elrian's guilt and fear had taken form – a Wolf God. This being looked down at the destruction it had wrought with a satisfied smirk, its gaze finally settling on Elrian.
"You," it boomed, its voice echoing like thunder, "are the cause of all this. Your weakness, your indecision, has led to the end of humanity."
Elrian could only watch in paralyzed horror as the Wolf God began to decimate entire cities with mere swipes of its colossal claws. The world around him crumbled, and the weight of every life lost pressed down on him.
As the Wolf God approached him, its maw opening wide, ready to swallow Elrian whole, he could hear the taunts and jeers of every wolf he had ever encountered. The regret, the guilt, the overwhelming sense of failure consumed him.
Just as the gaping jaws were about to close around him, Elrian's scream pierced the night, a primal sound filled with terror and anguish. He awoke, drenched in sweat, his heart racing, the remnants of the dream still vividly etched in his mind. The room felt cold, and he was alone with the shadows of his own making. The weight of the dream pressed down on him, and he struggled to catch his breath, trying to shake off the terror that had taken root in his heart.
The door to Elrian's room burst open, the light from the hallway casting long shadows on the floor. Lysandra and Arlan rushed in, their faces etched with worry. The sight of their son, trembling and covered in cold sweat, intensified their concern.
"Elrian!" Lysandra exclaimed, rushing to his side and cradling him in her arms. Her fingers brushed his damp hair from his forehead, her touch bringing a modicum of comfort.
Arlan was close behind, kneeling by the bed, placing a strong hand on Elrian's shoulder, trying to steady the shaking boy. "Son, tell us, what happened?" he inquired, his voice filled with a mix of alarm and tenderness.
Elrian looked up, tears streaming down his face, his gaze moving between his parents. It took him a moment to find his voice, but when he did, it came out shaky, "I... I can't cultivate. I tried, but it's like there's a barrier, and I can't break through."
Lysandra's eyes widened in surprise, while Arlan's brow furrowed in concern. Before either could comment on this revelation, Elrian continued, his voice choked with emotion, "And then... then the dream. The wolves, they... they killed both of you. The whole world crumbled because of my failure. A Wolf God... it destroyed everything, and... and it was all my fault." The weight of his words, the depth of his guilt, seemed to physically press down on him as he recounted the horrifying dream in vivid detail.
Lysandra's embrace tightened around him, her heart aching at the raw pain evident in her son's words. "Oh, Elrian," she whispered, brushing away his tears with her thumb, "dreams, especially after traumatic events, can be cruel. They can play on our deepest fears and regrets."
Arlan nodded, his expression serious but gentle. "It's a manifestation of your fears and guilt. But remember, son, it was just a dream. We are here, alive and with you. And as for the cultivation, we will find a way to help you through it. We always do."
Elrian sobbed, burying his face in his mother's shoulder. The weight of the day's events, the trauma of the battle, the failure in cultivation, and the nightmare had taken its toll on the young boy. His parents' presence, their unwavering support, was the only solace he had in that moment of darkness.