The dreams began as whispers, like music carried on a warm breeze. Ali found herself walking through the Summer Court's corridors, but everything was different—more vibrant, more alive with magic. The eternal twilight seemed to dance around her, casting ever-changing patterns on the walls.
The light pendant floated before her like a will-o'-wisp, its glow creating patterns that reminded her of the Night Songs. As she followed it, she began to hear music—the complex harmonies of the Summer Court, but deeper somehow, as if she were hearing layers that had been hidden before.
"The patterns are changing," a voice said behind her. Ali turned to find Melody-In-Moonlight standing there, her silver-white hair flowing like moonlight on water. "Can you see them, little singer?"
Before Ali could respond, the scene shifted. She was in the light-weaving chamber, but now it was filled with twilight rather than daylight. Twilight-Stars-Dancing stood at the center of the room, his hands moving as he wove the fading light into complex patterns.
"Watch carefully," he said, though he didn't look at her. "Some lessons can only be learned in dreams."
The light formed symbols similar to those he'd shown her earlier, but these were different—more ancient, speaking of the Summer Court's mysteries and the delicate balance of power within its boundaries.
Thunder crashed in the dream, and the scene changed again. She was in the Summer Court's great hall, but it was empty save for the ethereal music that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. The music spoke of old magic, of secrets kept and promises made, of the delicate dance of power within the court.
"So you begin to hear the deeper songs," Nightshade-Among-Stars said, appearing beside her. "How interesting."
The light pendant flared brightly, and Ali found herself in the Summer Court's gardens. Each flower seemed to glow with its own inner light, creating a display of magical beauty. Melody-In-Moonlight stood among the luminous flowers, her expression thoughtful.
"Be careful, dear one," she warned. "Dreams have power in the fae realms, and not all who walk them wish you well."
I'll continue with the revised dream sequence, focusing on the Summer Court's internal dynamics:
The dream shifted again, becoming more fragmented. Ali caught glimpses of different scenes within the Summer Court: Queen Mirabelle walking through her private gardens, touching flowers that bloomed more vibrantly at her touch; Twilight-Stars-Dancing and his sister conducting an intricate light-weaving ceremony with other fae nobles; Melody-In-Moonlight teaching young fae children songs that made the air shimmer with golden notes.
Throughout it all, the strange storm continued, but its music now seemed more complex—not just thunder, but the voice of the Summer Court itself, filled with ancient songs and half-remembered melodies. Ali realized she could understand fragments of this music—whispers of old agreements, echoes of past celebrations, and beneath it all, a rhythm that pulsed like the heartbeat of summer itself.
"The court holds many secrets," came Melody-In-Moonlight's voice again, though Ali couldn't see her. "Some are kept in song, others in silence. Learn to hear both."
Ali woke to find her room bathed in unusual light. The storm outside had intensified, but instead of darkness, it seemed to be producing its own illumination—pools of golden light that danced across the summer sky like fallen stars.
The light pendant on her bedside table was glowing warmly, and her silver bracelet hummed in harmony with it, producing a subtle melody that reminded her of the court's deeper songs from her dreams.
Sage was sitting up in her bed, watching the light display with wide eyes. "I've never seen anything like this," she whispered. "Mother never mentioned the Summer Court having such storms."
Ali touched the light pendant, remembering the dream images of Queen Mirabelle's private gardens and the ancient songs hidden in the court's walls. "I think," she said carefully, "there's a lot about the Summer Court that isn't mentioned."
A knock at their door made both girls jump. When they opened it, they found Twilight-Stars-Dancing standing there, his dark blue hair reflecting the strange golden light of the storm.
"The Queen requests your presence," he said to Ali, then added with a meaningful glance at the light pendant, "both your presence and your insights."
As Ali hurriedly dressed, she noticed patterns of light on her window that matched exactly the ones from her dream. The storm's music continued overhead, but now she could understand fragments of its conversation—old songs of the Summer Court, voices of ancient power, and underneath it all, a deeper rhythm that spoke of changes coming with the approaching solstice.