She was not dead.

The realization was bittersweet. After it came the sensation of the wind on her skin. It came from her right side, whipping at her dress and chilling every exposed bit of skin. Wherever she was, it was outside and large enough to allow the wind free movement.

She moved her feet and felt dirt beneath them. The sensation was recognizable, even through her shoes, even though she could not recall her last trip outside the palace building. She dug her feet into the dirt and felt satisfaction as the crumbs covered them. She savored the feeling for a while and then, reluctantly, decided to investigate her surroundings. With her arms outstretched, she took a tentative step forward, then stumbled and fell when the ground was not where she expected.

She decided not to rise immediately. Instead, she led with her hands, moving in one direction and feeling the pattern of the land beneath her: hill, valley, hill, valley. The ground formed long, soft ridges, like rows of tilled soil.

“Farmland,” she said.

She had never been on one, but she felt certain about her deduction. She oriented herself in one of the shallow valleys, rose, and began walking alongside the ridge. The air smelled fresh, even inundated by dirt.

After a few minutes, she walked faster. Then she began to run. The wind felt wonderful, and the ridges felt like they would go on forever. She had not had such a pleasant dream in ages. How long would it last?

The farmland ended abruptly. The ground grew hard like untilled soil, and she came to a halt. Without the ridges as a guide, she did not know in which direction to go.

“Who are you?”

The voice made her jump. She was used to hearing everyone's approach. In the closed, stone halls of the palace, even the most determined tip-toe was loud to her. Outside, however, the wind was louder than most clues.

“Who are you?” she asked.

The voice turned petulant. “I asked first.”

It was clearly a child, not yet past puberty and, from her estimate of his height, not close to it either.

“So you did,” Eluvie smiled. “My name is Eluvie. What is yours?”

There was an odd sound, like a small, nearby wind. Then the boy’s voice was closer.

“I’m Chirad,” he said. “Why are you on our farm?”

Eluvie considered telling him that he was in her dream, but what would be the point?

“I simply ended up here,” she said. “What do you grow?”

“We’re planting corn,” the boy said. “It won’t be ready for a while. But we’re going to have so many! A thousand bags! Do you want to buy some?”

“I have no money,” Eluvie said. It seemed like a silly thing to say, but it was out. The boy seemed to have moved on, anyway.

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“Where do you live?” he asked. “Do you have a farm? What do you grow? Do you want to play hide and seek?”

As he spoke, that odd sound reoccurred. There was no pattern to it, but it truly did seem like a wind. Short gusts even reached her at some points.

“What is that sound?” she asked when he paused to breathe.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“That sound,” she said. “Almost every time you move, I hear it.” The sound came again. “There it is,” she said. “You heard that.”

The boy remained so silent that she worried that he had disappeared.

“Hello?” she said. “Little boy? Um, Chirad?”

“You’re a very strange woman,” the boy said.

The sound was gone now. “What’s strange about me?” she asked.

“Well,” he said, “I don’t think you can see, but there’s nothing wrong with your eyes. They’re clearly wide open, but you don’t use them.”

Eluvie felt her face. Her blindfold was gone, and her eyes were open. Yet, the world appeared pitch black. She started to panic but quickly calmed herself. She was often blind in her dreams, so the situation was not entirely strange. It only seemed odd because the rest of the dream was strangely vivid.

“Also,” the boy said, “there is no sound here except my wings. Don’t you know the sounds that wings make? What happens when you use yours?”

Eluvie felt another jolt.

She reached behind her back, and just as he said, her wings were there, as real as the last time she had felt them. Soft as silk, strong as steel, and hanging limply behind her back. She felt their veins, traced their patterns, and suddenly felt tears slipping down her face. Of course, such a lovely dream would turn cruel.

She let go of the wings. Foolishly, she attempted to move them. Of course, nothing happened. She had barely used her wings in reality. How could she make them work in a dream?

But before her sight and her wings, she had one major problem. This was a dream about someone like her: the very thing the rulers wanted so desperately. They had never told her why they wanted it, but her deductive skills were up to the task.

“Chirad,” she said. “Are you real?”

Chirad paused, and then spoke tentatively. “You didn’t drink, did you? You shouldn’t go out after drinking, lady. It’s dangerous.”

“Answer the question, please. Is this a dream or are you real?”

“Of course, I’m real! Why don’t we go inside? We can play hide and seek!”

He took Eluvie’s hand and led away, skipping happily. Meanwhile, Eluvie settled into despair. She could not tell the rulers about him. They would find him, no matter how far they had to search. But they would ask about her dreams, and she had never successfully lied to them. She tried to hope that desperation would make this attempt successful, but she knew that it would not.

The boy led her into a building he introduced as their home.

“Are you supposed to bring me here?” Eluvie asked. “I could be a bad person.”

Dear heavens, Lady Mirab would have no trouble capturing him.

The boy laughed. “You’re not a bad person. You’re like me.”

Eluvie released his hand, fury beating at her. “That doesn’t make me safe. The world is full of monsters. Why are you so stupid? How old are you?”

She regretted her words almost immediately, but the boy took it in stride.

“I’m eight,” he said. “Don’t worry, there are no bad people here. Now, I know you’re blind, but this place is small, so you should still be able to find me. There’s just this room, the storeroom, and the bathroom. Papa wants to add another room for the baby, but he hasn’t done it yet.”

“Where are your parents?” Eluvie asked.

“Papa’s on the farm. Mama went into the city. They’ll be home soon. Alright, do you want to hide first? Or should I?”Eluvie wanted to ask more questions: where did he live? Why had the rulers not found them? Were his parents like him? But every question she asked would only collect information for the rulers.

“I’ll go first,” he said. “You count to twenty, and I’ll hide. Then, you have to find me. Then, you’ll hide, and I’ll find you.”

Eluvie felt amused by how unbothered he was by her blindness. He prodded her until she began counting. She could hear him going about the house, running into one room and then another. When she reached fifteen, he went silent, but she had a rough idea of where he was.

She finished counting and then stopped to consider her next steps. She could simply leave. But this was a dream, and she had no idea where she would end up. There was little harm in playing with the boy until she woke up. With that thought, she went into the room she had entered and began searching for him.

It was harder than it should have been. The room was barely larger than her own bedroom, and most of the space was occupied. Still, she went through every surface twice and could not find him.

“I know you’re in here,” she said. “Stop moving. That’s cheating.”

“I’m not in there,” he called from the main room.

Eluvie jumped. How had he slipped past her? Her hearing was excellent.

But, of course, why do dreams have to make sense?

“Well, I give up,” she said. “I can’t see you, and I can’t hear you move either. This won’t be a fun game.”

He disagreed and made her take her turn instead. Then, he took a turn, and she took one until the dream faded away, and she awoke in the clinic.