'Where are you?'
The voice echoed in Oliver's mind, distant yet familiar, pulling him out of his daze. He raised his head, confused, but what greeted him was not the familiar sky, whether blue with daylight or speckled with stars. Instead, everything above him was a void of black, a darkness so profound it seemed to consume any trace of light.
Looking down didn't offer any comfort. The ground, once alive with green grass or soft earth, was just as dark, as though the sky and land had merged into one endless abyss. It wasn't desolate in the traditional sense; there were no broken remnants of life, no ruins, just an expanse of pure nothingness.
And then it hit him.
'Am I even still alive?'
He tried to move, but his limbs were as useless as stone. Only his eyes responded, slowly shifting in the dark. Aside from sight, the rest of his senses had abandoned him. No sounds, no scents, no taste on his tongue. His skin didn't even register the feel of air or ground.
There was only silence, an empty void.
Then, a flicker. A tiny light appeared above him, faint and fragile, like a lone firefly caught in the maw of a storm. The darkness clawed at it, swallowing it again and again, but each time the light flickered back, fighting to stay alive. Slowly, other lights joined it, gathering into constellations, until the sky was filled with dazzling stars.
The brightness was overwhelming, almost painful. Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, but it was useless, his sense of touch returned with brutal force, bringing with it scorching heat and sharp pain, as if his skin was being burned away by invisible flames. Every nerve in his body screamed in agony, his breath caught in his throat.
Then, just as the pain threatened to consume him, the darkness closed in once more, wrapping him in a strange comfort.
The burning sensation faded, replaced by something unexpectedly soothing. It was as if a cool breeze swept across his skin, carrying the scent of wild herbs after a summer rain. The gentle sensation soothed his nerves, easing the phantom pain. For a moment, he marveled at the strange peace that washed over him; so fleeting, yet so vivid.
But the moment didn't last.
Without warning, the ground beneath him gave way, and he plummeted downward, falling away from the stars above and the darkness that had cradled him. He tumbled endlessly, weightless, his stomach lurching as if gravity had decided to abandon its rules.
Just when he was sure he would never stop falling; convinced death was waiting at the bottom, his eyes snapped open, and he woke with a gasp.
The familiar weight of his blanket pressed against his body, soaked through with cold sweat. His breath came in ragged gulps, as though he had run for miles without stopping. He lay still for a moment, staring at the stone ceiling above him, heart pounding in his chest.
'It felt like a dream... but it was too real.'
He sat up slowly, pushing the blanket aside, every movement stiff and sluggish. His clothes clung uncomfortably to his damp skin. 'What was that dream?' Unlike the hazy, half-forgotten dreams he usually had, this one remained sharp in his mind, every detail vivid as if it had just happened.
Oliver swung his legs off the bed and stood, intending to wash his face and clear his head. But as he moved toward the mouth of the cave, he saw a figure standing silently by the entrance.
"Ziggy?" he asked, his voice rough from disuse.
The elf turned toward him, her expression unreadable in the dim light. "You're awake."
"What's going on?"
Zig's gaze flicked past him, as if sensing something in the air. "He told me someone is using the power of nature."
Oliver blinked, caught off-guard by the statement. "Power of nature? What does that have to do with me?" He gave a dry chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Come on, you know me. I'm only good with a bow. How could I, of all people, use the power of nature?"
But Ziggy didn't laugh. Her gaze remained steady, her tone serious. "It's possible."
Oliver dropped his hand, his expression shifting from amused to wary. "You're joking, right?" He studied her carefully, but there was no trace of humor in her face.
"I'm serious." Zig's voice was calm, unwavering. "You might not realize it, but something is happening. Maybe it's connected to that dream of yours."
Oliver frowned. "The dream?"
"Yes. Tell me."
He exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. "It's hard to explain. I don't really know what it meant, there were stars and darkness, and I fell... but it all felt too real, too... sharp, like I wasn't just dreaming." He shook his head. "But it wasn't prophecy. I've never learned that kind of magic. And besides, archery is all I know."
Zig's expression didn't change. "It's connected."
"What?" Oliver's face twisted in confusion, brows furrowing deeply. "How could prophecy have anything to do with archery?"
The absurdity of the idea hit him like a slap, and his stern expression crumbled. "Archery and prophecy? Seriously? What do they have to do with each other?" He leaned back slightly, arms hanging at his sides, mouth slightly agape.
Ziggy, her patience undisturbed, gave a small shrug. "I've lived longer than you. Trust me on this; it's not as strange as it sounds."
Oliver scratched the back of his head, muttering under his breath. "I'm really not seeing it, but fine. I'll take your word for now."
Ziggy turned back toward the cave entrance. "Rest for now. You need to sort through your thoughts. There are things only you can understand, things that belong to this era, not mine."
She glanced back at him with a knowing look. "I can give you insights, but some answers? Only you'll find them."
Oliver let out a soft sigh, reluctant but accepting. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Rest now, figure things out later. Got it."
As he started to turn away, Ziggy added, "Oh, and unless you want to wake the others, I suggest you keep it down."
He gave her a dry smile. "Wouldn't want to disturb the sleeping beauties, huh?"
Ziggy smirked faintly. "Exactly."
With that, Oliver made his way back toward his bed, but the strange dream lingered in his mind. No matter how much he tried to push it aside, the feeling remained; a nagging thought that somehow, prophecy and archery weren't as far apart as they seemed.
And deep down, he knew that whatever had started in that dream wasn't finished yet.
Once he was certain the others had gone far enough, Oliver slipped out of the cave, the cool night air brushing against his skin.
When he had returned earlier that day, exhausted from battle, his only thought had been to bandage his wounds and collapse into the nearest resting spot. The cave, tucked deep in the forest and used as a temporary shelter, had been good enough. Physical pain, mental fatigue, and the weight of over-concentrated focus dragged him into a deep, dreamless sleep.
But now, as he wandered outside under the open sky, his fatigue had faded into a distant memory. His body still ached, but the kind of ache that reminded him he was alive. He scratched his head absently, chuckling to himself. "Taking midnight strolls, when did I turn into a college kid again?"
As he walked, memories drifted through his mind, mingling with the night air. But it wasn't just memories; it was the night itself.
He looked up, his gaze drawn to the sky. The stars above were a familiar sight, yet somehow strange after the dream he had. In the dream, they had burned like miniature suns, blinding in their intensity, each one sharp and overwhelming. But here and now, the stars shimmered gently, scattered like flecks of light dusted across a velvet sky. They gave off just enough glow to illuminate his path, guiding his steps, as if whispering, "We see you."
The strange part wasn't that the stars seemed to light his way, it was that the same stars, small as they were, shone for anyone who looked up. Not just for him. For everyone.
---
"What?" An's frown deepened as he leaned closer. "You're telling me you can predict the future now?"
Oliver groaned, rolling his eyes. "I told you, I can't. I don't even know how."
Ziggy appeared just then, stepping into the conversation as sunlight filtered through the trees behind her. Both men squinted against the light. "He's telling the truth," she said simply. "This is a rare case."
"Rare?" An asked, still skeptical.
Ziggy nodded, her expression thoughtful. "In the past, many tried to learn prophecy, but very few were truly able to wield it. It's not something just anyone can master."
Oliver raised a brow, the corners of his mouth twitching with disbelief. "Should I feel honored or something?"
"Maybe." Ziggy gave him a small smile. "But the important thing is that if you dreamed it, it will happen. Prophetic dreams are absolute."
---
"Predict the future?" the village chief's grandson asked, his young face scrunched in confusion. "Like, for real?"
The old man, pleased to see his grandson engaged for the first time in a while, smiled patiently. "Yes, for real. Prophecy is like a privilege, each school approaches it differently, but they all have ways to glimpse the future."
The boy tilted his head. "Schools? What kind of schools?"
The old man settled into a storytelling rhythm, his voice taking on the weight of ancient knowledge. "There are three: the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars. Each represents a different way of understanding the world."
He held up a hand, ticking them off one by one. "The Sun shines upon all things, it represents power, pride, and clarity. The Moon heals and guides with gentleness and mystery. And the Stars... the Stars are vast, infinite, and humble, reflecting all things within themselves."
The boy wrinkled his nose. "Stars sound kind of shameless."
The old man chuckled. "Ah, silly boy. Stars are closest to us. They don't blind like the Sun or hide in lonely mystery like the Moon. They're small, humble, and countless; just like us."
---
Meanwhile, Oliver scratched the back of his head, listening to Zig's explanation with a skeptical expression. "Wait. So... there were schools of archery? Like, different types?"
Ziggy nodded. "There were. But those schools disappeared long ago, each for their own reasons."
Oliver frowned. "Disappeared? How?"
Ziggy folded her arms, as if recalling memories from long, distant centuries. "The Sun School pursued too much power, more than anyone could handle. Elves and humans alike couldn't master it; it was just too overwhelming, and it died out. The Moon School was shrouded in mystery. It didn't disappear as much as it... faded. No one could understand it well enough to preserve it."
She hesitated before continuing. "And then there's the Star School."
Oliver noticed her frown deepen. "What about it?"
Ziggy met his gaze with an odd expression, a mixture of amusement and frustration. "The Star School was... different. Didn't I tell you before? You're the only one left who knows even a fraction of their techniques."
Oliver raised a brow, exasperation creeping into his voice. "So what you're saying is, I know some ancient archery technique without even realizing it?"
"Pretty much," Ziggy replied with a shrug.
Oliver sighed and rolled his eyes. "Great. Now I feel like I've been made the punchline of some cosmic joke."
Ziggy smiled slightly, clearly enjoying his confusion. "Don't take it personally. Sometimes fate has a strange sense of humor."
Oliver threw up his hands. "Archery and prophecy. Sure. That makes total sense."
He could hardly believe the conversation he was having. Archery had always been simple; pull the bowstring, shoot, hit your target. But now, somehow, it was tangled up with dreams, prophecies, and ancient schools of thought. It felt absurd, but at the same time, he couldn't ignore the strange pull in his chest, the sense that there might be truth in it.
Ziggy glanced toward the horizon, where the stars were still visible through the thinning clouds. "You should rest for now. Clear your head. Tomorrow, maybe things will make a little more sense."
Oliver gave her a tired smirk. "Doubt it. But I'll try."
As he turned to head back to the cave, Ziggy called after him. "And try not to wake the others."
He shot her a playful grin over his shoulder. "Wouldn't want them to miss out on this mess, huh?"
Zig's laughter followed him as he disappeared into the cave, the weight of unanswered questions pressing on his mind. Prophecy, stars, ancient schools, it all sounded impossible.
But in his heart, Oliver knew that whatever strange forces were at work, they weren't done with him yet.