---
"Kran? Are you there?"
No response.
"…I shouldn't have trusted him."
I'd blacked out under the weight of that terrible gaze, and when I finally came to, I found myself in my mindscape. This should have been familiar territory—Kran was always here whenever I entered. But this time, something felt off. Kran was gone. And the stillness around me only made things feel more unsettling.
I could sense the changes in myself, the intense refinement of my core that should have taken decades. But Kran had left out a lot of details, I realized.
Those eyes…that voice saying, "Rise, Sovereign; the Throne sees you." What did that mean? The dream I'd seen of the stone throne and the five eyes—it hadn't been just a dream after all. And the throne…was it really what I thought it was? Only one person could answer, but he was nowhere to be found.
Just then, a voice broke through the silence:
[Oh, apologies for the delay. Perhaps I can be of some assistance.]
I jolted, scanning the area, but saw nothing.
[My apologies—I should appear first,] the voice added, almost as if it found my reaction amusing.
Before me, a figure materialized, a Mouth of Dreams, though distinct from the one I'd encountered before. Its form was much more complete, its clothes elaborate, and atop its head sat a strange, crown-like organic piece.
[I am Orenon, the Mouth of Dreams tasked with guiding Fated Sovereigns on their path toward the Throne of Dreams,] it announced.
I stood there, trying to process its words, the confusion piling on faster than I could understand.
[I'm sure you have questions. Feel free to ask,] it continued.
"What exactly is a 'Fated Sovereign'? Why are you calling me that?"
[Because that is what you are,] Orenon replied smoothly. [Fated Sovereigns are those marked by the Throne. You have felt its gaze.]
"You mean…that vision? The stone throne and the five eyes watching me from above?"
[Correct,] it confirmed. [The Throne reveals itself differently to each Sovereign—some see a throne of gold, others a pile of bones drenched in blood. But the eyes? They're the same for all. They're the mark of a Fated Sovereign.]
"But…why? Why me, and why I am learning this now?"
[It's apparent you're unaware of much. May I…take a look?]
I hesitated. "What do you mean?"
[Your memories would make it quicker to explain, but if you prefer, I could listen instead,] Orenon said, its tone patient.
"Fine…just do whatever you need," I said. If it would help me understand faster, I'd let it.
With a nod, Orenon lifted a hand, placing two long, middle and index fingers against my forehead. Its expression shifted, a hint of distaste crossing its face—mouth—.
[Ah, I see it now,] it murmured.
"So…what is all this?" I asked, trying to grasp the implications.
[Let me put it in a way that might make sense. Consider your journey so far. How did an ancient soul specifically find you, in the midst of an apocalypse? How did you, a simple person, manage to survive the test of Destruction? Why was one of the Dreamscape's rarest treasures just lying around, waiting for you in middle of nowhere? Did you truly think you were simply…lucky?]
"…What are you saying?"
[Nothing in your path has been accidental,] Orenon replied coldly. [Well, maybe that girl falling from the sky was real luck for you, but anyway.] It added. [Kran, as the exiled creature you're traveling with calls himself, found you because he sensed the mark of the Throne upon you. He's manipulated you from the beginning, bringing you into his own past conflicts.]
"Then what's the point of all this? Why did Kran bother?" I demanded.
[There are three steps to claim the Throne of Dreams,] Orenon answered, shifting topics with sudden directness. [First, one must consume the heart of a Dragonlord. Second, they must obtain the authority of five different Rules. And lastly, they must reach the Throne itself.]
I staggered at the realization that, without even knowing it, I'd already crossed the first threshold.
[In the beginning, many were marked by the Throne, including the original rulers of the Land of Dreams. Each tried to claim the Throne once, but none succeeded. Over the centuries, fewer and fewer Sovereigns appeared. By the time you arrived, it was a rarity, one Fated Sovereign every decade. With each generation someone weaker was chosen, they could no longer slay a Dragonlord. Most died before long, hunted by nightmares and enemies alike. That was…until you.]
"And that only happened because of Kran…"
[Precisely. That thing has been waiting for a Fated Sovereign. I have no say in who you trust, I am merely a guide, but be warned: he's using you,] Orenon said, voice firm. [The moment you consumed the heart, the entire Dreamscape was notified. Existence of a Fated Sovereign is now known to all.]
I was just saying I didn't wanted to get into any of these conflicts yesterday, and I was in middle of them now.
You shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.
No. It's still not over for me.
"Is there any way to undo it?" I asked, my voice low.
[No,] Orenon replied without hesitation. [The heart has bound you to the Throne's path, and mark is much more apparent than ever. You may choose not to pursue it, of course, but the mark will continue to draw threats to you for the rest of your life. And there are others who will try to end you for the threat you pose.]
"…But can I still use this power to find my sister?"
[Nothing about the Throne will hinder that goal,] Orenon confirmed.
My path might have become more complicated, but my purpose was the same.
Maybe he wasn't lying to me, but leaving some parts out.
"Then can I leave now?"
[Yes. And if you have further questions, you may call upon me at any time,] Orenon replied.
In the air, symbols glowed, etching themselves into my memory before vanishing.
Without another word, I felt my awareness pulling back, the dream fading as I returned to the waking world.
---
I opened my eyes to find Rem's face inches from my own, her expression filled with worry.
"He's awake!" she called out, and murmurs of excitement echoed around the root-covered dome.
"You okay?" Her voice was both panicked and relieved, though she was so close I could barely move.
"Rem… a bit of space, please…"
"Oh—sorry!" She pulled back, sheepish but still on edge. "But really—you're alright?"
"Yeah, I'm alright… but I need to talk to Kran."
She hesitated, and the shift in her expression told me something was wrong.
"What?" I asked, sitting up slowly.
"He's gone," she said finally. "He left. I don't know where he went. Said he'd done all he could about your deal, and that it wasn't necessary for him to go with you to the First Plane anymore. He told me to tell you… well, 'just do things your way now'"
I sighed, realizing that Kran had really just left me to handle all this alone without answering anything. I glanced around, noticing we weren't in the same place as before.
"What else happened while I was out?"
Rem looked at me, her expression torn between disbelief and amazement. "A lot. Mouths of Dreams appeared across the entire Dreamscape, announcing the arrival of a new Fated Sovereign. Every nation is in chaos now—they even moved the test up by two weeks so officials from the First Plane can return as soon as possible."
"That's… a lot. And how'd you hear all that?"
"This kind of news spreads fast." She paused, her tone softening. "It's been almost a week since you collapsed."
I blinked in shock. "A week?"
"Yeah," she said, a hint of worry returning to her face. "The test is in two days."
"Then let's go," I said, already pulling myself up.
She stared at me like I'd suggested setting fire to the place. "Are you serious? Right now, you're probably the most wanted person in the Dreamscape! Joining a public tournament where a lot of people from the First Plane will be watching is basically asking for trouble."
"Why not? They know a Fated Sovereign exists somewhere, but they don't know it's me. Besides… when did you figure it out?"
Her expression softened. "Pretty hard to miss. The Mouths of Dreams appeared right after you consumed the heart, and I know the path a Fated Sovereign has to take."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because I didn't think you were one. People go their entire lives without ever seeing a Fated Sovereign." She took a breath. "I think even Mirella didn't consider the possibility that you were a Fated Sovereign"
"I guess that makes sense…" I muttered, scratching my head. "You're handling this pretty calmly. I'd expected… more shock."
"Oh, I was losing my mind," she said with a dry smile. "I just had a week to calm down and let it sink in."
Just then, the two elder Giants who had prepared the heart entered, their deep voices resonating in the dome.
"We heard you've awoken, Marked One," one of them said, inclining his head respectfully.
"Thank you," I replied. "For everything."
"We only fulfilled the promise of our master," the Giant replied solemnly. "If you're ready, we will help you return to the surface without notice. Since the news broke, Golden Order has intensified their watch."
I nodded, and we followed them down a series of twisting, root-laden passages. Eventually, we reached a wall, where one of the Giants knocked in a rhythmic pattern. The wall shifted open to reveal a blacksmith's workshop above.
"This is Daran's forge," one of the elder Giants explained, gesturing to the enormous orange-bearded Giant standing by the door. "If you need to reach us again, Daran can assist you."
Daran extended a hand to me, and his massive arm made me feel as small as Rem must feel standing next to me.
After the Elder Giants had gone, we stayed in Daran's shop for a while, talking over my plan to join the test in two days.
Daran gave a grim nod as I explained, crossing his arms. "I understand your aim, but even from here, I can sense the mark on your back. If you enter a public event like that, you'll get noticed in a heartbeat. For many, your presence alone will be enough to trigger the conflicts they've been itching to start."
"So… everyone's going to see me as a threat?" I asked, the reality settling in.
Daran shook his head. "Not all. Your mark will unsettle plenty, but there are more than a few who would be glad to see someone challenge the Golden Order. A lot of people hate how they rule the Dreamscape. You'll be a target, sure, but to some, you'll be a opportunity worth backing."
"Are you saying I shouldn't join the test?"
"Not without some protection." He went to a shelf in the back and returned with a thin piece of armor, dark as obsidian and almost weightless. "I made this for you once I heard your story. Wear it under your clothes to cover the mark, and no one will sense it."
I took off my shirt and stood in front of the mirror. It was the first time I'd seen the mark—five slits across my back, the middle one larger than the rest. It looked like those watching eyes from my vision, staring right back at me.
The armor fit snugly, barely noticeable once it was under my clothes. "This is perfect. I don't know how to thank you."
Daran waved it off. "No need. If it puts a thorn in the Golden Order's side, that's thanks enough."
It was clear from the look on his face that his reasons for disliking the Order went far deeper, but I didn't press him.
I glanced down at the bracelet on my wrist, remembering the run-in with that woman who had recognized it so quickly. In a city this size, it wouldn't take much for someone else to catch on. "Actually… can I make one more request?"
Daran raised an eyebrow. "What do you need?"
I held out my wrist so he could see the bracelet. "Do you think you could craft something to disguise this, without blocking its functions?"
He examined it closely, inspecting every detail before he nodded thoughtfully. "I think so. Give me a minute."
As he disappeared into the back, Rem looked at me, intrigued. "Do you really think he can make something small enough for that?"
"He seemed pretty sure. I'm as curious as you are."
"Maybe he has tiny tools for things like this? Maybe he's going to need a magnifying glass just to see what he's doing!" she teased.
A short while later, Daran returned with a band that looked like a ring in his giant hands. He held it between two fingers, letting it float toward me. Sunlight symbols and designs of distant worlds were engraved along its surface.
I slipped it over Kran's bracelet. It fit perfectly, obscuring the design underneath without interfering with using the bracelet.
"That was fast," I said, impressed. "I thought it would take much longer."
He laughed, shaking his head. "Not even I can work that quickly! This was an unused outer frame from an old project. Just had to resize it to fit over your bracelet."
That made a lot more sense. I gave him a grateful nod as we prepared to leave, feeling a little more ready for whatever lay ahead.
After thanking him, we set off to grab some food, weaving through streets buzzing with whispered talk of the Fated Sovereign. It was strange, hearing people discuss this mysterious figure, and realizing that person was…me. The weight of their hopes and fears rested heavily, yet they had no idea who they were actually waiting for. And I was still not aware what that exactly meant.