CHAPTER ONE

Echoes of the Sunlit Dream

The sun glows warm and clear, shining high above a gently flowing river. Its surface glistens as if studded with tiny jewels, and the soft light seems to embrace every blade of grass along the bank. A sudden breeze stirs the leaves around me, sending them dancing past my ankles. 

The old trees sway and creak, their branches bending as if whispering secrets to one another. The wind grows stronger, and I hear the heavy groan of trunks bowing under its force.

I look up and glimpse a flock of birds wheeling gracefully overhead. Their wings catch the sunlight, tracing patterns in the pure blue of the sky. 

For a moment, I stand there, content and grounded. There are people here. I sense their presence close by, though their faces remain concealed by a gentle haze. Their outlines waver as if half-remembered, yet I feel only calm and kinship. It is as if we share a bond older than speech.

Then the light fades. The sky darkens in an impossible instant, and the air grows thick. My vision shifts as if the world tilts. In place of the sun’s warm glow, something vast and terrible looms above. 

Massive tentacles writhe through the gloom, twisting and curling as they blot out what little light remains. They sway across the heavens like colossal roots of some upside-down tree, reaching in every direction to claim the horizon.

A thick fog pours into view and swallows the landscape. The laughter of running water and the rustle of leaves vanish. Now there is only a heavy silence and a tremor beneath my feet. The ground rumbles, and I lose my balance. I fall, striking my head, and the pain is sharp and real. Darkness rushes in.

I open my eyes to the dim world I know. It was just a dream. Yet the lingering echo of that sunlit memory, the silent faces, and the monstrous shapes that devoured the sky, remains vivid and unsettling.

This is not the first time I’ve had this dream; it happens quite often and is usually the same. I realize this might be considered a nightmare for some, but I can even sense the warmth of the sun reaching my skin in the early morning after awakening, so I am quite glad when I have this dream.

As I awake, my back hurts, and I remember that I had to sleep on the stairs near the overhang by the door from home. Well, not my home, but the home of others. I don’t know how to call it, but I’ve heard other people calling it home.

Yesterday, the rain came late at night, and there isn’t much cover in this part of the district. The overhang near the door provided some shelter, just enough for a few steps, but most of my body was still left in the rain. Now, I can see that my only blanket is wet, and I can barely feel my legs.

The nights can be very cold in the district. There is a kind couple in this building who give me things, so luckily, I have my blanket and a decent coat. There were some holes in it, but the lady who gave it to me fixed them first. I wouldn’t even have noticed if it weren’t for the difference in the fabric making it clear there were once holes. The thickness isn’t the same.

As I get up, I can already hear the noises from inside, so I hurry to gather my things. Last time, I was kicked out of the way when people tried to leave and found me sleeping on the steps.

While one of the couples that live here is very nice to me, this isn’t their home alone. I look up at the building and think about how many such families live inside. There isn’t much space left in the district, and since my arrival, the little space that was available has been reduced even further, making the "habitational zone," as some call it, limited to certain buildings.

I was told there was once a time when people didn’t live cramped inside these residential buildings, with entire families sharing a single room. A time when there was space and less hunger. I can’t imagine or even believe such claims might be true, but I do dream of a roof, a place to sleep safe from the rain, with walls to block out the cold.

Things were once better in this place, not long ago, and everyone makes sure I know it. After all, most of it changed after I arrived. The couple in the building told me it wasn’t my fault, that I had nothing to do with it, but I still feel guilty.

I can’t remember exactly what happened the day I arrived, but they told me I’m from District 7, a neighboring district, and that I was found roaming near the edge of the ward of this district, District 98, brought inside by some of the guards.

Following the direction I came from leads to District 7. The next few days, people were sent outside the ward to investigate. They are called the Chainrunners, people who travel beyond the ward’s protection.

There, they found what remained of District 7. The ward of District 7 had failed, and everyone had died, killed by the beasts and monsters that linger in the thick fog surrounding the districts.

In the following days, the Chainrunners were sent to check other neighboring districts. Soon, they discovered that it wasn’t just District 7, several other districts had fallen on the same day. Their wards had failed too.

I know little about what happened. They questioned me, but my only memory was of arriving, nothing from before. 

I only know I’m from District 7 because they told me it’s the district in the direction I came from. They also said I might have trauma from seeing monsters and that I’m very lucky to be alive. Yet, I’m not seen as a sign of luck by most, more like a bad omen.

The day I arrived was the day everything changed, after all.

As I ponder, I notice that while gathering my things to leave the overhang near the door, I left my clay cup behind. As soon as I move to retrieve it, a small boy in a blue coat steps outside, sees the cup, and runs to kick it.

This clay cup is possibly my most valuable possession. As it tumbles along the ground, I hold onto a flicker of hope that it might survive. For a moment, it bounces, unbroken, and I think it might endure. But as it lands again, it shatters into countless pieces.

The boy is slightly older than me. I know him well, his name is Pallo. He lives on the first floor of this building and has annoyed me as much as he can ever since he caught me glancing through his window.

I was just curious. He had received a gift, something called a zoetrope. When he spun the cylinder, the images inside, horses, the mystical creatures, seemed to come alive and move. I wanted only a glimpse, but I became lost in thought, wondering if horses were real and imagining one leaping out of that spinning device.

At the time, I thought it was an artifact, but I’ve since learned it was just an illusion created by the motion of the spinning wheel. Still, from that moment on, Pallo hated me. He didn’t want anyone else to see his gift, and my curiosity offended him.

As he catches sight of me now, his smile widens. Then, without a word, he walks away.

I slowly approach what’s left of my clay cup, picking up the pieces one by one and carefully placing them into my coat pocket. Maybe the kind couple can help me fix it later.

As I finish, my stomach rumbles. I sigh and head toward the water well, already dreading what promises to be a difficult winter. Last winter, I think I only survived because of that cup.

I’ve learned a trick to dull the pain of hunger. Drinking water can help, and sometimes, if it’s too much to bear, I mix a little dirt into it. The couple told me this doesn’t actually solve hunger, but I know it tricks the body for a while. If I’m quick, I can usually fall asleep before the hunger returns.

That’s why my cup was so important. It was always with me, filled with water. Without it, I might have to start sleeping near the water well.

The closer I get to the well, the more my stomach growls. When I finally fill the bucket, I drink until I feel as though water might burst from my ears. It creates a mild discomfort that temporarily replaces the gnawing hunger.

As I look around, I see the district coming to life. More and more people are waking up, and I realize I need to hide. The district isn’t very large, and there aren’t many places to get water.

I wait for a few more minutes and drink again, until I can’t stomach any more. This time, the discomfort rivals the hunger, but I know that without my cup, I won’t have water for the day while I hide.

Then, I run, weaving between buildings until I reach a small alley, the kind of place only a child can slip through. It’s a perfect hiding spot for the day, close to the water well and out of reach of adults, but it offers no shelter from rain.

As I settle in, I scoop handfuls of dirt and shove them into my mouth. Eating dirt without water is difficult, but bearable.

The timing is perfect. The district is fully awake, my hunger is momentarily dulled, and I am in a secure spot to hide for the day.

I lay out my blanket on the cold ground and wrap myself in it. It isn’t large, but it’s enough to cover my whole body.

Now comes the hardest part: falling asleep again. If I take too long, the hunger will return, and sleeping will become impossible. But if I stay awake during the day, the hunger will only worsen.

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It’s a challenge, but over time, I’ve learned to focus my mind and push intrusive thoughts aside. This ability lets me fall asleep in almost any situation.

I don’t know if it’s truly possible to shut down one’s mind, but I’ve noticed a difference in the thoughts that come when I’m close to sleep. They feel like fog, disjointed and irrational, while the thoughts that keep me awake are tied firmly to reality.

Thanks to this skill, it doesn’t take long for sleep to embrace me. I hope to have that dream again, to feel the touch of the sun on my skin, even if only in my dreams.

…

This time, I wasn’t lucky enough to have the dream. As I wake hours later, the light is already piercing through the thick fog surrounding the district. It must be close to midday.

As I glance around, I’m startled to see someone in my hidden spot, but relief washes over me when I recognize Meris, the daughter of the kind couple who help me survive.

“Took you long enough to wake up,” she says with a grin. “I thought about shaking you, but my mother would’ve scolded me.”

“Others have tried,” I reply with a smirk. “Believe me, you can’t wake me once I’m out.”

She laughs softly. Meris is one of the few people in the district who doesn’t look at me with disgust.

“Is that a challenge?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Just stating facts,” I say, shrugging.

As we speak, I notice the basket in her hands, and the unmistakable smell of freshly baked bread reaches my nose. My stomach churns, and I try to hide my hunger, but the sound betrays me.

“Here,” Meris says, offering the basket without hesitation. “Mother sent this for you. It was baked this morning.”

Her kindness makes my chest tighten. Her parents, Elina and Jharim, are the reason I’m still alive, even though they struggle as much as everyone else. Despite the hardships since my arrival, they’ve continued to share what little they have.

Elina, the district’s librarian, has taught me many things. She’s the only librarian here, and she says that our species is indomitable. She believes we’ll find a solution to the hardships we face or even discover an artifact that can help us.

I sit beside Meris and take the bread from the basket. It’s warm, the heat still radiating from it. I glance at her and hesitate.

“This was meant for you, wasn’t it?” I ask, splitting the bread in half and offering one piece back to her.

Meris shakes her head, smiling. “Mother sent it for you, really.”

“Take it,” I insist. “We can share.”

She looks at me for a moment, then nods and takes the piece. Without waiting, she begins to eat. I, however, take my time, nibbling slowly. Eating too quickly after not eating for so long can make things worse, and I don’t know when I’ll have food like this again.

The bread is a luxury. Its smell and taste overwhelm me, a rare comfort in this harsh place.

We sit in silence for a while after finishing. Neither of us is full, but bread is a rare commodity, and neither of us expected to have any today.

In this district, survival is tied to work. Pay is based on the necessity and importance of one’s job. Meris’s mother, Elina, as a librarian, earns little, barely more than an apprentice in other professions. Her father, Jharim, is a blacksmith, though not the most skilled in the district.

Blacksmithing is usually well-paid, but since my arrival, there’s been less work. Few venture outside the ward anymore, so there’s little need for weapons or tools. Construction is almost nonexistent, as the ancient city of Araksiun preserves itself through its mysterious properties. Food takes a long time to spoil, water sources remain drinkable, and disease doesn’t spread as it might elsewhere.

Still, without the Chainrunners and their expeditions, the demand for Jharim’s work has dwindled. Every citizen receives a small allowance, but even that was meager before my arrival. Now it’s even less.

The hardships have made life difficult for Meris and her parents, yet they still help me whenever they can.

Meris wasn’t planned. She was born without district permission and receives no official support. At the time, it wasn’t as complicated to manage. But when I arrived, things became harder for everyone.

I feel a pang of guilt as I think about it. Despite Elina telling me it’s not my fault, I can’t help but feel responsible.

“You’re still hiding during the day?” Meris asks, breaking the silence. Her voice is gentle but laced with curiosity.

“Yes,” I answer simply.

“It’s been four years,” she says thoughtfully. “Do people still need someone to blame?”

Her words catch me off guard. Four years. I hadn’t realized it had been that long. That means I must be eight years old now. Only four more years to go.

When I first arrived, Meris’s parents were the only ones to accept me. I don’t know my exact age, but since I’m the same height as Meris, they registered me as her age. They even offered to let me live with them, but the other residents protested.

Here, only active members of the community are allowed access to facilities. Even children are expected to contribute as they’re seen as the future of the community.

Whenever Jharim needs help, I do what I can in his blacksmith shop. I’m not strong enough to lift much or use the hammer effectively, but he’s promised to make me his apprentice one day. As an apprentice, my allowance will be small, but it’ll be enough for a place to sleep and maybe even acceptance from the others.

I realize I haven’t answered Meris. She’s watching me closely, her head tilted in curiosity.

“Sorry,” I say, startled. “I got lost in thought.”

“You do that a lot,” she remarks, smiling faintly. “I always wonder where your mind goes when you drift off like that.”

She pauses, then adds, “Anyway, I know some people still blame you, but you had nothing to do with it. They know that as well as I do. But sometimes I wonder if you know it.”

“Your mother explained it to me,” I reply. “I know. But they hate me anyway.”

“Yes,” she admits quietly, “but they’ll forget. They always do.”

I hope she’s right.

…

As the weeks go by, winter arrives. The already scarce food supply grows even more limited because almost nothing grows in District 98 and during winter food production comes to a halt.

One morning, I was found lying still in the cold, not moving or waking after a bitterly cold night. Later, Elina had brought me inside the residential facility. Everyone thought I would not wake up.

They laid my body on a bed, and after some time, I could hear their cries, including Meris’s.

“Why are they crying?” I wondered.

I heard that some residential facilities have heating systems, though they are not common and this facility is not among those with heating systems. Yet, I noticed a stark difference that day, sleeping inside made me feel warmer, and I awoke again shortly after.

They were certain I was gone for good, so when I opened my eyes, everyone was startled. I am not sure why they found it strange. I always wake up eventually.

Elina jumped as though frightened, and both Jharim and Meris looked puzzled.

“Are you sure?” I heard Jharim whisper. I was still groggy, but I recognized his voice.

“Yes, I am sure. His heart stopped long ago, and he was not breathing,” Elina whispered back. The room was small, so even their hushed voices reached my ears.

They took a few moments to compose themselves, then came closer to check if I was truly well.

I like these long sleeps because, once I wake up, my hunger seems to disappear for a few days. It always returns, but I have never understood why these long sleeps, which are so difficult to wake from, make the hunger go away.

Unfortunately, not everything about this is good. Each time it happens, Jharim and Elina become very concerned. Meris does not fully understand their fear, but this time, they truly believed I would not wake up.

“I told you, it is just hard to wake me up,” I said with a slight smile to Meris. Her worried expression faded a little.

After examining me carefully, Elina looked into my eyes. “We found you outside the door. Some people pushed you aside, but you would not wake up, so we brought you in.”

I wondered why she felt the need to explain what I had already witnessed. Then I realized it was strange, I remembered them carrying me inside, but I had not been conscious.

I thought for a while and decided it must have been another dream.

“Thank you all for caring about me. I am sorry I worried you. I think I should get going now. Soon it will be harder to find a place to hide.” I stood up from the bed.

“Nonsense, you are staying here. It is too cold out,” Elina said firmly.

During these freezing nights, many people enter these long sleeps and never wake again. That is a reality. Sometimes I am not sure which is worse, the cold or the hunger. Occasionally, I feel my mind fading, like last night, when both became unbearable.

In those moments, I try to focus on something else, as I do when falling asleep quickly. It helps distract me from the pain of cold and hunger. So far, I have only managed to do it for brief moments, but with no other choice, I have to keep trying.

“You know I cannot stay,” I answered. “Thank you, Elina, but I should go.”

Elina looked ready to protest, but Jharim put a hand on her shoulder and told her to let me leave.

It is not that I do not want to stay inside, protected by walls, or to sleep in a bed with a blanket that is not damp. They have tried to let me stay before, but it is always the same problem.

Jharim and Elina took a huge risk keeping Meris, a child conceived without the District’s permission. Even small acts of defiance can turn Meris into an outsider, just like me. Most people here hate me, they call me the bad omen. If Jharim and Elina openly sheltered me, it could lead others to report them, and the District council would take action.

Elina once told me that people blame me for the destruction of neighboring districts, even though I was not responsible. They say my presence brings bad news. Whenever they see me, they remember how things were before I arrived, and that reminder angers them. More than once, I have been beaten until I fell into one of those long sleeps. That is why I hide during the day.

As long as they do not see me, they will not get angry, so I hurry to find a place to hide. Luckily, thanks to the long sleep, I do not feel hungry or thirsty right away, but the moment I step outside, the cold envelops me.

Before I can get far, I look back and see Meris running down the stairs of the residential facility. She stops in front of me, hesitating, then speaks.

“You know, you could stay inside, and we could hide you for the day. We can pretend you are somewhere else.”

“I cannot risk it,” I replied. “If other people find out, they will report your family to the council, and you might end up like me, an outsider.”

“It might be worth it,” she said softly. “When you did not wake up this time, my parents really thought you were gone. I did too… and I am scared that one day you will not come back.”

I considered it. More than anything, I wanted to stay indoors. But I thought about the trouble it would bring and forced the idea away.

“You know I always wake up,” I told her before running off to my hiding place.

Just four more years, I reminded myself. At age twelve, I can officially become an apprentice. Jharim said he would take me on if I can wait until then.

Even if there is not much work, I will at least receive a small allowance from the District. I will have access to the facilities, rations, and more security.

As more weeks passed, I found myself slipping into many of those long sleeps during the winter. Others around me had similar long sleeps, but sadly, most never woke up again.

Sometimes I heard the cries of mourning, and the smell of burning bodies lingered in the air on certain days.

I caught myself wondering if fire could wake someone from a long sleep, and I felt relieved nobody had tried to rouse me that way.