Euric focused back on measuring the dried herbs, determined to ground himself in the kitchen, pushing aside the dream's lingering effects. His fingers moved quickly, measuring and placing the herbs into the mortar with practiced precision. He took up the pestle, ready to grind, but as he pressed down, his vision blurred, and he felt a tug, like a thread pulling him from somewhere distant.
The kitchen faded. Trees surrounded him, towering and ancient, their tangled branches forming a canopy that blotted out the moonlight. The ground was dry and cracked beneath his feet, the earth brittle. A chill crept over him as he murmured, "What… What is this place?" His breath appeared before him in smoky tendrils, curling away into the darkness.
The heavy, oppressive silence pressed closer, and he felt a strange prickle, as though eyes were watching from behind every tree. An instinctive shiver ran down his spine, his senses sharpening. This wasn't like his usual dreams. This felt more alive, more dangerous. He felt his bracelets pulse faintly, as if reacting to the presence. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a whisper cut through his mind, low and echoing, "Come find me."
And suddenly, he was back in the kitchen, clutching the pestle, his knuckles paler as he held it frozen in place. His heart pounded in his chest, and he took a slow, steadying breath, letting the reality of the kitchen settle back over him. The quiet clink of ceramic jars and his mother's soft movements in the background reminded him he was safe, yet the whisper lingered, sending a chill through him.
'That's definitely new…' he thought as he tried to calm himself down. 'Is it tied to the changes in my dreams?'
His mother noticed. Her hand paused mid-stir as she looked at his back, narrowing her eyes she seemed to hesitate for a moment, her voice becoming softer than usual. "Euri, is something the matter?"
Euric was pulled from his thoughts, startled by the sound of his mother's voice. He turned slowly, still gripping the pestle as though it anchored him to the present moment.
"I…" he paused, unsure how to explain what he had just experienced. His gaze dropped to the mortar, watching the finely crushed herbs swirl under his hand. The images were still fresh in his mind—the cracked earth, the towering trees, and this voice that seemed to drown his senses. "I'm fine, Mom. Just… distracted."
His mother stood up, moving toward him. She placed an arm on his shoulder, the sudden action startling him. "Darling, you know if anything is worrying you, you can always talk to me?"
Stopping his hand movement, he took a moment to breathe. "Mother, when you were my age, did you ever see things, or have strange recurring dreams?"
His mother's hand stilled on his shoulder, and a flicker of something—a passing thought or memory—crossed her face. She seemed to hesitate at first, her gaze drifting to his wrists.
"When I was your age…" she began slowly, a warmth overtaking her gaze, "our family had different duties than we do now. Our role as keepers of the shrine came after I married your father, but…" she paused, as if considering how much to say. "Yes, sometimes I would see things I couldn't explain."
Euric turned toward her, his eyes meeting hers. "But I don't think it's my place to tell you about this." His mother continued, "Wait for your father to return, and he will tell you."
Euric nodded dejectedly, returning his focus to grinding the herbs. His mother chuckled as she watched Euric drop his shoulders and sigh exaggeratedly. "Don't be like that, Euric. I got betrothed to your father at a young age. He is the one who helped me with my dreams, he guided me through everything and helped me awaken as a spiritualist."
Hearing the last word—spiritualist—Euric's entire being trembled with excitement. His ears perked as he listened attentively. "Yes, I am rather knowledgeable when it comes to spirits and dream interpretations," she continued. "But your father once made me promise that, when the time was right, he would be the one to speak to you about these things."
"Oh, and which things are these?" a voice was heard through the door leading outside, catching everyone's attention. The wooden door was slowly pushed open, and through it, a man walked in.
He was tall, needing to stoop slightly to pass through the doorway. His skin was a healthy brown, marked with scars along his arms and two crossing his face near his eyes. His refined body pressed against the fabric of his shaman's robe, and his hair, woven into locks, was tied neatly in a ponytail, revealing beautiful brown-gold eyes that seemed distant and unfocused.
"My darling Selene, is that your famous chicken stew I smell?" He asked, taking an exaggerated breath. Seeing her husband's childlike behavior, Selene couldn't help but smile. "Yes honey, I managed to finish checking on the altar tethers earlier, so I decided to make you my favorite."
The man lifted his hands and stood there waiting. Euric watched as his mother rushed into his father's arms. He smiled as he saw the warm, filled embrace before returning to add some salt to the mixture of herbs.
"If I am not mistaken, I heard Euric's voice earlier," the man asked. "Is he the one, grinding something?"
"Yes, Alaric, Euric was helping me prepare the final spices for the stew," Selene answered, as she helped the man move about in the kitchen, leading him by the hand toward Euric. Arriving at where Euric was hard at work, she gently placed Alaric's hand on Euric's head.
Feeling his son's head, Alaric's grip tightened. "Boy, you have some nerve, making a helpless blind man clean and prepare the altar by himself."
'Helpless?' Euric was taken aback, peeking behind him and looking at his father's muscles that seemed to want to rip through his shaman robe.
'Who is helpless? I watched you carry a cow once,' he mentally retorted, not daring to say those words aloud.
"I am sorry, father. I got lost in my dreams again." Hearing Euric's answer, Alaric's grip loosened immediately.
"Have there been any changes?" Alaric questioned.
"Yes father, for the first time, things were different," Euric responded. Before he continued, Alaric interrupted. "Selene darling, can you please grab all of us a stool?"
Selene, with the help of Euric, went to grab three stools from the corner and placed them around the stove. "Alright, son, tell me what happened?"
Nodding, Euric proceeded to recount his dream. From the glimmer in the bright vortexes swirling in the sky to the shadows dancing past the horizon. He left nothing unspoken. The more he spoke, the more serious his father's expression got. When he spoke about how the bracelets glowed and trembled, Alaric couldn't help but wear a worried look on his face.
"Euric, tell me, have you heard anything inside this dream?" Alaric questioned in a serious tone.
"No, I haven't. There was a moment something like a whisper echoed through the space, but I couldn't discern what it said," Euric answered.
"I see–," just before Alaric could continue, Euric's eyes widened as he recalled the vision.
"While I was grinding the herbs, I saw something. It was a forest with dry ground and large eerie trees." Selene, hearing this, furrowed her brows, realizing she had mistaken the reason behind Euric freezing.
Euric continued. "I felt like I was being watched, but before I could turn around, I heard a whisper right by this ear," he said, pointing to his right ear.
"What did the whisper say?" Selene was the first to speak this time.
"The whisper said, 'Come find me,'"he answered.
"Is something wrong?" Euric questioned when he noticed his parents' disturbed faces.
Alaric leaned forward, his expression unreadable as he lost himself in thought. "A whisper in your ear, calling you… that's not something to take lightly." He stopped for a moment, and Selene, seeing this, placed her hand on his shoulder.
"The voice," Alaric continued, choosing his words carefully, "it's not uncommon for spirits to reach out through dreams when there's something they need us to see. But this… 'Come find me'..." he trailed off. "It could mean they are calling you to something important—or to something dangerous."
Euric felt a shiver of both excitement and unease. "So… what do I do? Have you ever been called?"
Alaric seemed hesitant to speak. "There was a time when I was younger where I was called by the spirits. That is when I awakened my spiritual attire."
"What's that?!" Euric asked excitedly.
"Don't worry, when you come of age, I will tell you about it. Only a couple more days until you turn twenty. Later in the evening, come with me to the altar; I wish to show you something," Alaric spoke with a smile. "For now, let's eat some of your mom's stew."
'Four more days,' Euric reminded himself. Then they proceeded to prepare the stew in some bowls.
"Let's see who can finish more bowls of stew," Euric shouted.
"You dare challenge your father? I may be helpless, but my stomach is massive," Alaric puffed his chest as a show of dominance. "You're on, little man."
Selene chuckled helplessly, watching her rugged Alaric vigorously gulping down chicken stew while laughing at her son. She was about to take a sip of her own soup when soup shot out of Alaric's nose as he began to cough.
"How many times have I told you not to laugh and talk while you eat?" Selene yelled before grabbing a cloth and whacking him on the head with it. Seeing this familiar sight, Euric let out a silent chuckle before returning his focus to his soup, determined to beat his father.