Night fell over Lyrica's small room like a deep purple velvet curtain, gentle yet heavy. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting long streaks on the wooden floor, where dust particles floated like lost stars. She curled up in her blankets, listening to the gentle breeze rustling through the trees outside, and the distant sounds of a world slowly drifting to sleep. Today had been a tiring day, a day when Lyrica felt as if someone had gently squeezed her heart. The adults spoke in somber voices, their words heavy and incomprehensible to her, only knowing that they made the house feel emptier than usual. At times, Lyrica wanted to ask, wanted to run and hug someone tightly, but her throat tightened, as if sadness had a form and was blocking her chest. She turned her face towards the window, gazing at the bright full moon, wondering if somewhere far away, there was a place without sighs, without melancholy eyes, only laughter and warmth. Her eyelids grew heavy, her breathing became steady, and as consciousness faded like morning mist, a small light suddenly appeared in the darkness behind her half-closed eyes.
At first, the light was just a tiny speck, fragile as a lost firefly. It hovered, trembled, then slowly grew, emitting a soft, milky light, not dazzling but warm. The light circled around Lyrica, gently, like an invisible hand calling her name. In that moment of semi-consciousness, she heard a very faint sound, like wind blowing through a ripe rice field, like the whisper of ancient dreams. "Lyrica…" She started, her heart beating faster, but she felt no fear. On the contrary, a strange, familiar feeling welled up inside her, as if that light were an old friend she hadn't seen in a long time. The ground beneath her feet suddenly softened, no longer her familiar bed but something as soft as clouds, as water. Lyrica felt herself falling, but not in panic, but gently drifting, supported by warm breezes. A soft rustling sound filled her ears, like thousands of petals gently touching each other.
When Lyrica opened her eyes, the world had changed.
Before her stretched an endless field, so vast that its end was invisible. The ground was covered with strange flowers, their petals delicate as glass, emitting a gentle light of every color. They shimmered like a starry sky descended to earth, each step causing the light to ripple in tiny waves. The wind blew across the field, carrying a sweet, gentle fragrance, mixed with a familiar warmth like the scent of morning bedding. In the wind, Lyrica heard soft sounds, sometimes like children's laughter, sometimes like someone whispering a story. She stood still, her heart pounding, both bewildered and captivated. "Where am I…?" her voice trembled, small in the vast space. She took a step forward, and immediately, beneath her feet, a bright flower bloomed like a tiny star just awakened. Within its petals, a hazy image appeared, like a reflection in a drop of water.
Lyrica saw a little girl running on the green grass, her hair blowing in the wind, a warm hand reaching out from behind to grasp hers. A clear, bright laugh rang out, so bright it seemed to dispel all darkness. Lyrica's heart tightened, a feeling both warm and painful spreading through her chest. It was a memory. Her own memory. A moment of happiness she had almost forgotten. Lyrica reached out and gently touched the petals, her fingertips trembling as if afraid of breaking something fragile. The moment she touched them, the image dissolved like morning dew in the sunlight, the light within the flower fading, leaving behind a pale, sad gray. She recoiled in alarm. "It…it's gone…"
"Don't pick it."
A voice rang out from behind her, deep and soft like the evening breeze.
Lyrica turned around. A boy stood there, about her age, his hair a pale golden hue like autumn sunlight, his deep blue eyes tinged with sadness. The light from the flowers reflected on his face, making him seem like a part of this dreamy field. "Who are you?" Lyrica asked softly. "I'm Aren," the boy replied, his voice low but clear. "Here…people shouldn't touch the flowers too much." "Why?" Lyrica hesitated. Aren lowered his head, looking at the flowers at his feet, the light in his eyes trembling. "Because each flower is a memory. When the light goes out… that memory will vanish forever." Lyrica clenched her hands, her heart pounding. "Then why do they shine?" Aren looked up, gazing across the vast field. "Because the Land of Dreams is nourished by beautiful memories and gentle dreams. As long as there is hope, there is light here."
A cold wind suddenly blew through, carrying a thin gray mist. Lyrica shivered. The nearby flowers began to tremble, their light fading like extinguished candles. Aren took a step back, her eyes wide with fear. "It's coming…" "Who?" Lyrica asked, her voice trembling. "The Dream Eater."
From within the mist, a tall figure gradually emerged. It had no discernible face.
Wherever it passed, light was sucked away, flowers turned gray, memories vanished as if they had never existed. The air became cold and heavy. Lyrica felt her heart pounding in her chest. "What must we do?" she whispered. Aren trembled and shook his head. "No one has ever been able to stop it…"
Looking at the darkening field, Lyrica suddenly felt a profound sadness welling up inside her. But at the same time, a gentle yet powerful determination surged within her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In her mind, she thought of a warm, sunny afternoon, of laughter echoing in the yard, of the feeling of being held tightly in someone's arms. A feeling of safety and love spread throughout her. Immediately, at her feet, a new flower burst forth, brighter than all the others, radiating light like a small sun. The darkness paused, as if in pain, as if pushed back by that light. Lyrica opened her eyes, staring straight into the darkness. "Perhaps… dreams aren't meant to be devoured," she said softly but firmly. She grasped Aren's hand, feeling its trembling yet real warmth. "Perhaps we can mend this place." Light emanated from Lyrica's small hand, merging with the light of the flowers, creating a warm wave that spread across the field. The darkness retreated, dissolving into the mist, as if it had never existed.
The wind blew gently again, carrying a soft, whispered laugh. The light returned to the flowers.
Aren looked at Lyrica, her eyes sparkling. "You are the chosen one." "Chosen for what?" "Chosen to uncover the mysteries. Chosen to save the Land of Dreams." Lyrica looked up at the sky. The stars suddenly formed an endless path of light. Twelve twinkling points of light, like twelve guiding lamps. She swallowed hard. "Is this journey… long?" Aren smiled sadly. "Long… and it will be painful. But if we don't go, everyone's dream will vanish." Lyrica took a deep breath, feeling her heart pounding. Then she nodded. "Then I'll go."