The Academy's corridors buzzed with nervous energy as the final hours before the Winter Solstice ticked away. Aeric made his way through the crowded halls, students clustering in small groups, their forced laughter unable to mask the underlying terror that permeated the air.
He paused near one of the training rooms where a familiar voice carried through the partially open door.
"—and sometimes my shadow moves on its own, you know. Gets a bit restless when I'm sitting still too long."
Through the crack in the door, Aeric could see a dark-haired boy speaking to a small audience of younger students, gesticulating with exaggerated movements.
"Right, Sunny," one of the listeners said with poorly concealed mockery. "Your shadow has a mind of its own. What's next, you're secretly a Master?"
"who can say?" Sunny said with an obviously fake grin. "Who knows what secrets I'm hiding?"
The students exchanged glances and barely suppressed snickers before dispersing with whispered comments about "Sunless the dreamer"
Aeric stepped into the room as the last of the audience filed out. Sunny remained on the bench, that same practiced grin still plastered on his face.
"Interesting performance," Aeric said, settling beside him.
Sunny's grin faltered slightly. "What performance? its all true"
"The bumbling fool act. It's pretty convincing. Almost had me fooled for a second."
For just a moment, Sunny's mask slipped—his eyes sharpening, assessing. Then he went very still, watching Aeric carefully.
Sunny was quiet for a long moment, then simply said, "I should go."
He stood up, but Aeric spoke before he could leave.
"Good luck with your Nightmare, Sunny. Try not to underestimate it the way you want everyone to underestimate you."
Sunny paused at the doorway, not turning around. Then he walked away without another word, leaving Aeric with the distinct impression that he'd just made an enemy—or perhaps earned a very dangerous person's attention.
---
The preparation chambers were sterile and clinical, a stark contrast to the Academy's warm stone corridors. Dozens of sleepers lay on narrow cots arranged in precise rows, each connected to monitoring devices that hummed softly in the background. The air smelled of antiseptic and fear.
Aeric settled onto his assigned cot, the thin mattress uncomfortable beneath him. Around the room, his fellow students were going through their own final rituals. Some prayed silently, others checked and rechecked their equipment, and a few simply stared at the ceiling with thousand-yard stares.
Kai occupied the cot to his left, nervously adjusting his Academy uniform. "Think we'll all make it back?" he asked quietly.
"We have to," Aeric replied, though his voice carried less conviction than he'd intended.
On his right, Cassie lay perfectly still, her pale hands folded over her chest. Her eyes were closed, but Aeric could see the slight tremor in her eyelids that suggested she wasn't as calm as she appeared.
Nephis was several cots away, her perfect composure intact even now. She caught Aeric's gaze across the room and offered the slightest nod—acknowledgment, perhaps, or farewell.
A technician approached with a syringe filled with clear liquid. "This will help ease the transition," she said in a practiced monotone. "Try to relax and let the Spell take you."
Aeric felt the needle slide into his arm, followed by a spreading warmth that made his eyelids heavy. The room began to blur around the edges, sounds becoming muffled and distant.
'Here we go' was his last coherent thought as consciousness slipped away.
----------------------------------------------
Cold.
That was Aeric's first sensation as awareness returned—biting, bone-deep cold that cut through him like knives. His eyes snapped open to find himself staring up at a sky the color of old pewter, heavy clouds rolling overhead like smoke from some distant fire.
He sat up slowly, his body protesting every movement. Beneath him was weathered stone, cracked and worn smooth by countless years of wind and rain. The surface was uneven, jagged rocks jutting up at odd angles as if something had been violently severed from this place long ago.
As his vision cleared and he looked around, Aeric began to understand where he was. The stone beneath him curved away in both directions, forming what appeared to be the remains of massive shoulders draped in carved robes. Far below, dark waters lapped at what he could now see was the torso of an enormous statue, its body disappearing into the depths.
'The headless statue' Aeric realized with a mixture of dread and grim satisfaction. He was perched on the jagged remains where the head had once been, the ancient stone split and cracked from whatever catastrophe had claimed it.
The Forgotten Shore stretched out below him in all directions. Jagged rocks jutted from dark waters that seemed to swallow light itself. Ancient ruins dotted the coastline—crumbling towers and broken walls that spoke of civilizations lost to time and nightmare.
His knowledge had been correct, but that brought little comfort. Being right about ending up in one of the most dangerous places in the Dream Realm wasn't exactly a victory.
He carefully shifted his position on the uneven stone, mindful of the sharp edges and loose rocks that threatened to send him plummeting into the churning waters below. Far beneath, waves crashed against the statue's base with enough force to send spray up to where he perched.
The sound of displaced water caught his attention. Aeric looked down to see something breaking the surface near the statue's base—a dark shape moving with desperate urgency toward the rocky shore.
A figure emerged from the churning waters, stumbling and gasping as they dragged themselves onto a narrow ledge of stone. Even from this height, Aeric could make out the familiar dark hair and slight build.
'Sunny?!'
But his relief was short-lived. Behind Sunny, still partially submerged, something else moved through the water. It was barely visible—more shadow than substance—but unmistakably predatory. Long tendrils of darkness reached toward the exhausted sleeper, falling just short as Sunny collapsed onto the relative safety of the rocks.
Aeric watched, heart pounding, as the shadowy figure seemed to pulse with malevolent energy before slowly sinking back beneath the waves. Whatever it was, it had been hunting Sunny—and barely missed its prey.
The implications hit him like a physical blow. This wasn't just the Forgotten Shore from his memories of the novel. This was real, immediate, and deadly. The shadow in the water was just the beginning.
As if to emphasize the point, a sound echoed across the shore—a howl that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, carried on winds that tasted of salt and ancient blood.
Aeric gripped the jagged stone beneath him, his knuckles white against the weathered surface. Somewhere out there, his friends were facing their own trials. Somewhere in this nightmare realm, survival would be measured not in days or weeks, but in heartbeats and split-second decisions.
His nightmare had begun.
And the real test was just starting.