Two years had passed since Sam stepped through the Threshold, and the world had changed in ways he could never have anticipated. The boy who had once been uncertain and fearful now stood on the cusp of his seventh birthday, but the weight of his experiences had aged him far beyond his years.
The village of Feldoran had seen a quiet transformation. Though it remained a small, secluded place, the people were no longer isolated from the broader events that shaped their world. Sam’s family, once simple farmers, had found themselves at the center of a story that few could comprehend, but many had come to respect.
Word of Sam’s strange power had spread, carried by the whispers of travelers and the tales of wandering merchants. Some came to the village seeking aid, others with questions, and a few with intentions less noble. But through it all, Sam had remained steadfast, guided by the lessons he had learned in the depths of the forest.
The Monarch’s Revival had not remained dormant. It had grown within him, its presence a constant hum beneath the surface of his thoughts. At first, the power had been wild and unpredictable, lashing out at the world whenever Sam’s emotions ran high. But with time, practice, and the guidance of Isonorai and Lareth—who had become a more frequent visitor to the village—Sam had begun to understand how to control it.
Yet control did not mean peace. There were days when the weight of the power threatened to crush him, when the visions of the past and future—glimpsed through the eyes of the Monarch’s Revival—would overwhelm him. On those days, it was only Isonorai’s calm presence and his family’s unwavering love that kept him grounded.
As his seventh birthday approached, the village prepared to celebrate, though the mood was subdued compared to the usual revelry. Everyone knew that Sam’s birthday was more than just a personal milestone—it was a reminder of the strange and dangerous forces that now touched their lives.
The day before his birthday, Sam found himself wandering the outskirts of the village, the familiar fields stretching out before him. The tall grasses swayed gently in the breeze, and the sky above was a brilliant blue, unmarred by clouds. But Sam’s mind was far from the peaceful scene.
He had been having dreams—visions, more accurately. They came to him in the early hours of the morning, just before dawn, when the world was still and quiet. In those dreams, he saw a great darkness creeping across the land, swallowing cities and forests, leaving nothing but desolation in its wake. And at the heart of that darkness was a figure, cloaked in shadow, its eyes glowing with a malevolent light.
Each time he woke from these dreams, his heart raced, and his skin was damp with sweat. He hadn’t told anyone about them—not even Isonorai. They felt too personal, too terrifying. A part of him feared that speaking them aloud would somehow make them real.
As he walked, he was joined by Isonorai, who had grown alongside him in these two years. She had become a formidable figure in the village, her skills as a warrior and a protector honed by the challenges they had faced together. But to Sam, she was still the same steady, kind presence who had stood by him through everything.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” she observed as they walked side by side. “More than usual.”
Sam hesitated, then nodded. “I’ve been having dreams,” he admitted. “Bad ones.”
Isonorai’s brow furrowed with concern. “What kind of dreams?”
“About… something coming. Something dark. I don’t know what it is, but it feels big. And dangerous.”
Isonorai was silent for a moment, digesting his words. “Have you spoken to Lareth about this? He might be able to help you understand what the dreams mean.”
Sam shook his head. “No. I don’t want to bother him. He’s been busy, and I’m not sure if these dreams mean anything. Maybe they’re just… nightmares.”
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Isonorai stopped and turned to face him, her expression serious. “Sam, you’re carrying a power that most people can’t even begin to understand. If you’re having dreams like this, they’re probably more than just nightmares. We should talk to Lareth, or at least your parents. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
Sam looked down at the ground, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I know,” he murmured. “It’s just… I don’t want to worry them. They’ve already done so much for me. I feel like I should be able to handle this on my own.”
Isonorai placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip firm yet gentle. “You don’t have to prove anything, Sam. You’re still a kid, even if you’ve been through more than most adults. We’re all here to help you—no one expects you to face this alone.”
Sam met her gaze, the earnestness in her eyes giving him a measure of comfort. “You’re right,” he said after a moment. “I’ll talk to Lareth when he gets here tomorrow.”
Isonorai nodded, satisfied with his answer. “Good. Now, let’s head back. Your birthday’s tomorrow, and we’ve got a lot to prepare for.”
As they made their way back to the village, Sam’s thoughts lingered on the dreams. He hoped that speaking to Lareth would provide some answers, or at least some peace of mind. But deep down, he knew that whatever was coming, it was something he would have to face.
The day of his birthday dawned bright and clear, the air crisp with the first hints of autumn. The village was abuzz with quiet excitement as people went about their preparations, setting up tables and decorations in the main square. Sam’s parents were busy in the kitchen, preparing a feast, while Claire, now a lively four-year-old, ran around excitedly, eager for the day’s festivities.
Sam, however, couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding that had settled over him. Even as he helped with the preparations and greeted the villagers who came by to wish him well, his mind kept drifting back to the dark figure from his dreams.
As noon approached, Lareth arrived, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the square. Though the villagers had grown accustomed to his visits, the aura of mystery that surrounded him never faded. He was welcomed warmly, and after exchanging pleasantries with Sam’s parents, he sought out the boy himself.
Sam found him near the edge of the village, standing by the large oak tree that had been a favorite spot of his father’s. Lareth’s gaze was distant, as if he were lost in thought, but he turned to Sam with a small smile when the boy approached.
“Happy birthday, Sam,” Lareth said, his voice warm but tinged with something unspoken.
“Thank you,” Sam replied, his own voice hesitant. “Lareth, I need to talk to you. About… something I’ve been seeing.”
Lareth’s expression grew serious as he gestured for Sam to sit with him under the tree. “Tell me what’s been troubling you.”
Sam took a deep breath and recounted his dreams—the creeping darkness, the desolate landscapes, and the figure at the heart of it all. Lareth listened intently, his face unreadable, though his eyes grew darker as Sam described the ominous presence in his visions.
When Sam finished, there was a long silence. Lareth seemed to be weighing his words carefully before he spoke.
“Sam, the dreams you’ve been having are more than just visions. They are warnings—glimpses of a potential future that your power has allowed you to see. The Monarch’s Revival is deeply connected to the forces that shape our world, and it is sensitive to changes, to disturbances in the balance.”
Sam felt a chill run down his spine. “What does that mean? Is something bad going to happen?”
Lareth nodded slowly. “It’s possible. The figure you saw in your dreams—it’s likely a manifestation of a threat that’s growing somewhere in the world. Something powerful enough to disrupt the balance, to bring darkness and ruin.”
Sam’s heart sank. “What can we do? How can we stop it?”
Lareth placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, his grip firm. “The first step is to understand it. I will need to investigate further, to see if there are any signs of this threat manifesting in our world. But Sam, you must be prepared. If this darkness is tied to the Monarch’s Revival, then you may be the only one who can stop it.”
Sam’s stomach churned with anxiety, but he nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I won’t let this darkness hurt anyone.”
Lareth’s expression softened slightly. “You have a strong heart, Sam. But remember—strength alone is not enough. You must be wise, and you must rely on those who care about you. You are not alone in this fight.”
Sam looked up at Lareth, the weight of his words settling heavily on him. “I understand,” he said quietly.
As the sun began to set, the village gathered in the square to celebrate Sam’s birthday. There were songs and laughter, the air filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meats. Sam’s parents beamed with pride, and even Claire managed to sit still long enough for a family portrait, though she squirmed excitedly in her chair.
But as Sam blew out the candles on his birthday cake, his thoughts were elsewhere. He knew that this day, meant to be a celebration of life and joy, was only a brief respite. The darkness in his dreams loomed large in his mind, and the knowledge that it might soon.