She didn’t pay attention to when it started, and by now it was long enough ago that she couldn’t really remember. Though she wasn’t sure that it was truly the first, the earliest one she could recall was when she was fourteen.

It hadn’t been a time any more stressful than the others, though that’s what Takane and Kiraat said it was—just a stress dream. When they started getting more frequent, Kiraat wouldn’t budge on his stance that that was all they were… and, eventually, Minne couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that she was right in believing they were something else.

Only a few things remained consistent throughout all of them: the tree swallow, who appeared anywhere between the beginning to close to the end, and the flower field they would find themselves in at some point. It wasn’t all of her dreams. If she had to explain a possible pattern, it would be when she found herself particularly lonely or feeling lost… though it often happened after those moments, too, as if to congratulate her.

The last she had for a long time was the first night after leaving Idale with Casper.

Kiraat’s cold gaze seemed to stare at her from the trees, the rocks, the animals—his voice echoing desperate threats and attempts at reason, though muddled together so only words could be picked out.

“Him?”

“Lying…”

“Think.”

“Calli.”

Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d realized it if he’d noticed how much he changed… if he’d understand his role in it.

Despite these words, Minne wasn’t as overwhelmed as she was to hear it when she was awake. Why? The little tree swallow, of course, that waited for her and gave her a friendly chirp when she walked up to him.

“What do you think?” she whispered, looking around at the faces and allowing the mumbling to sink in. “Is there anything worth listening to about what he has to say?”

“You were right,” a voice, Zokel’s voice, hummed. The swallow chirped again and flew off.

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She knew she needed to follow him, and she was only partly surprised when he led her right to the flower field.

“You’re going to be seeing this place a lot more often. These feelings of warmth… I hope they last much longer—that you’ll be so much happier there than you could anywhere else. No, I don’t hope—I’m nearly certain of it.”

…

She didn’t know how to react, at first, when there seemed to be nothing she could do to summon him. Had she done something? Was going with Casper all she needed to no longer require the swallow’s help? She wished, sometimes, she could tell him what was happening; he felt like an old friend, in a way. But a part of her also knew that, in one way or another, he was aware of her life.

Just like she recognized when he truly no longer watched over her.

“Casper, something’s wrong.”

“The fact it’s probably midnight and neither of us have gotten any sleep?” He sighed—tired, but showing an interest to help. “What kind of wrong?”

She stared up at the ceiling like she might be able to see something in the darkness. “I don’t know.”

“There’s not a lot I can try to do with that vague of an answer.”

“It’s not Skiá. At least, I don’t think it is.”

“Well, that’s always a good thing. I’ll get someone to check around Lelishara though, just in case. Do you think it’s about the kids?”

“That can’t be it. I know Imre’s here, Dimas and Samone both got home safely, Domenique said she and Kamila are doing fine… I’d be wasting time worrying about Lydia or Kiah…”

“Spirits?”

“I’d be having nightmares if it was them.” She paused, wondering if she really wanted to say it out loud. “I think it’s Zokel.”

“You said you haven’t interacted with him since you left Idale.”

“I haven’t.”

“Is he trying to tell you something..?”

“Maybe, but not directly… a call for help to anyone who will answer. A dying light’s last attempt to break free of the darkness.”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“How many do you think are left?” she dared to ask, though knew he couldn’t truly have an answer.

“There still has to be countless Fos that we don’t know about.”

“They can’t fight the darkness all on their own.”

“There’s nothing we can do to help them.”

“What do you think will happen when there’s not enough..?”

He didn’t say anything. “We’ve just got to hope we can handle the situation on our own. Or, better yet, already have it solved.”