Hoshiko gave a gentle nod, his smile both reassuring and distant. “You seem overwhelmed. It might be best if we start with your questions,” he said, gesturing calmly. “I’m sure there are quite a few.”

  Macaria stared at him, still breathless from the dream’s earlier chaos. She didn’t know what unsettled her more—that she could feel wind in a dream, or that this stranger spoke with such familiarity. Her voice trembled as she found her words. “I… I don’t even know where to start. I’m not even sure you’re real.”

  Hoshiko tilted his head, sensing her distress. A crease formed between his brows. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just…” Her breath hitched. “I just want to wake up. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

  Her voice cracked. The panic that had built inside her finally erupted. She sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands. Tears welled and spilled before she could stop them, sliding down her cheeks. “This isn’t normal. I shouldn’t be here. None of this makes sense!”

  Hoshiko flinched at her outburst but didn’t interrupt. He watched, silent and still, until she began to tremble. Then, he stepped closer and gently pced a hand on her shoulder.

  “It’s alright,” he said softly. “I know everything must feel like too much. But I’ve seen it all—from your eyes, through your heart. Every step, every choice. I’ve been there, in the quiet.”

  Macaria looked up slowly, her face streaked with tears. “What… do you mean? How?”

  Instead of answering right away, Hoshiko turned toward the glowing tree that towered above the field. Its branches swayed gently in the wind, light filtering through the canopy like a slow-motion dream.

  “Walk with me,” he said.

  Macaria rose hesitantly and followed. They walked in silence at first. Hoshiko slowed to match her pace, his expression thoughtful.

  “My name is Hoshiko,” he began again, this time with more crity. “I am a wind spirit. That, I remember. But the rest… it’s fragmented. I came from a world just above this one—a realm between realms. When you fell asleep, I brought your soul here. This isn’t a dream, Macaria. Not in the way you think.”

  She looked at him uncertainly. “You brought me here… Why?”

  “Because I wanted us to meet properly,” he replied. “You’ve heard my voice before, haven’t you? In your head. That was me. Speaking like that is… lonely. I wanted you to see me. To know me.”

  Macaria blinked, the pieces clicking into pce. The voice she’d heard in moments of confusion—the comforting whisper—had been his. “So that really was you,” she murmured.

  “One mystery solved,” Hoshiko said with a faint smile.

  “But what about that fight in the alley?” she asked quickly. “Those people—Felix, the others—and my powers. What was that? How did I even do that?”

  He held up his hand. In his palm shimmered the same crystal flower she had seen bloom in the dream before. Its light pulsed like a heartbeat. “I wish I could tell you who they are, but I don’t know. My memory’s… broken. Foggy. As for your powers,” he paused, “those came from me.”

  Her eyes widened. “So I’m not an unknown?”

  “No,” Hoshiko said gently. “Not in the traditional sense. I linked my soul to yours. That connection allowed you to access my wind abilities. Borrowed power—but no less real.”

  She frowned. “But… why me?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted, eyes drifting up to the sky. “If Oakuss truly sent me, then maybe it wasn’t an accident. But I don’t remember being sent. I don’t remember how I found you. I just… was. One moment, I was nothing. Then, I was watching over you.”

  Macaria stopped walking, turning to face him fully. “Do you think Oakuss wants me to help you?”

  Hoshiko’s smile faltered. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re the one I’m meant to protect. Either way, we’re bound now. Until I recover my memories, I’ll stay by your side.”

  He stepped forward again, brushing his fingers over a cluster of flowers. “I’ve watched humans for centuries, even before I had this form. I’ve heard their thoughts. Known their fears. Even unknowns—they’re still human at their core.”

  He gnced at her. “But you... you’re different. You listened.”

  She didn’t know what to say. The idea of her soul being bonded to a forgotten spirit sent by a possibly indifferent god was a lot to process.

  “You should probably return soon,” he said quietly, breaking the stillness. “Your body needs rest. Eight hours a night, right?”

  “Roughly,” she murmured.

  Hoshiko nodded and reached into the air. With a soft flick of his fingers, two glowing crystal flowers appeared. He tossed them to her gently. She caught each one instinctively.

  “The glowing one is unused,” he expined. “The other has already recorded a moment of strong emotion. You can view it when you’re ready—just channel your mana. As for the glowing one… save it for something important.”

  Then, he snapped his fingers.

  Light enveloped her.

  Macaria looked down as her body shimmered, her fingers glowing softly.

  “I think I’ve told you enough for one night,” Hoshiko said, his voice already growing distant. “Don’t forget... that voice in your head? That’s still me.”

  The light intensified—until all she could see was white.

  Macaria jolted upright on the couch, the soft afternoon sunlight streaming through her living room windows. Her vision took a moment to adjust.

  She stared at the ceiling, blinking against the daze.

  “That was… a dream?” she whispered, though it felt far too vivid to dismiss so easily.

  She stood slowly, stretching, her body stiff but calm. Then something on the entry table caught her eye.

  Sunlight glinted off two small, crystalline objects.

  Her heart leapt.

  She stepped closer—and stopped cold.

  Two memory flowers.

  Real. Solid. Glowing.

  “No way,” she breathed, her fingers trembling.

  Don’t touch that one! Hoshiko’s voice rang clearly in her mind. It reacts to strong emotions. Touch it now and it’ll record this moment. Save it for ter.

  Macaria yanked her hands back. “Ah. Right…” she said aloud, embarrassed. “That was close.”

  We’ll get along just fine, Hoshiko replied with a wry tone. This bond will help me uncover why I’m here.

  “I hope so,” she said, smiling faintly.

  She moved to her bag and began unpacking, pcing her ptop on the table. Then her fingers brushed something small and cold. She pulled it out slowly.

  Her pocketknife.

  She blinked in confusion. “Wait… this was with Renley. I gave it to her... in the alley.”

  There was blood on the bde.

  A chill ran down her spine.

  “Hoshiko…?” she asked. “This doesn’t make sense.”

  What’s wrong? His voice returned, curious.

  She flicked open the bde and stared at the smear of dried blood. “I gave this to Renley so she could fight before you gave me your powers. How did it get back in my bag?”

  What did you say her name was? Hoshiko asked, his voice slower now, more cautious.

  “Renley.” She paused. “Does that name sound familiar?”

  There was silence.

  No reply.

  “Hoshiko?” she asked again.

  Still nothing.

  The silence stretched—unnerving, heavy.

  She stood there, staring at the knife in her hand, the memory flowers glowing faintly beside her.

  Alone.

  And yet not.

  Not entirely.

  Not anymore.