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Typically, no other mental constructs should exist within this fringe of the dream realm. This boundary region isn’t just a straightforward part of the dream; it’s a tumultuous realm formed by the intersection of the dreamer’s subconscious and the tangible reality. Within this area, logic and rationality of the dreamer become irrelevant. It’s a place where fragmented and chaotic subconscious thoughts are stirred up by potent universal forces, leading to the creation of eerie or alarmingly bizarre “shadows.” These shadows are so menacing that the dreamer’s own mental defenses are stretched to their limit, ensuring that these disruptive forces from the boundary don’t permeate deeper into their psyche.

Heidi’s memories raced back to her days at the Academy of Truth where her mentor had elaborated on this vision. Every dreamer, he’d said, is essentially navigating their dream blindfolded. If one were to witness the true nature at the fringes of their dreams, the revelation would be enough to plunge anyone into insanity.

This means that if everything is functioning as it should, dreamers would never be aware of the dream’s “outer region” and consequently, this space should remain void of any mental constructs.

With renewed determination, Heidi clasped the golden instrument in her grip, silently chanting Lahem’s name, imbuing the spike with the potency to eradicate any intruders within the dream realm. She was acutely aware that this figure either represented someone like her—a “doctor”—or a potentially dangerous trespasser.

The figure stood with its back to Heidi, seemingly unaware of her presence. It looked up, its attention fixed on the tree canopy that veiled the sky above.

Sunlight dappled through the leaves, illuminating the forest floor below. If not for the unsettling presence of this unknown entity, the scene would have been breathtakingly serene.

Moving stealthily, Heidi approached the figure from behind, swiftly raising her golden spike, poised to strike. But in a split second, she halted.

This isn’t an invader!

In the tangible world, this “golden spike” blessed by Lahem functions as a tool for neurological interventions. However, within the dream realm, it morphs into a “medium of suggestion” endowed with an array of mystical capabilities. It could either vanquish shadows within one’s mind or forge fleeting mental links. As Heidi’s spike made contact, clear and coherent thoughts flooded her consciousness, revealing a deep-rooted connection between the figure and its environment. Leveraging her extensive training, Heidi instantly discerned the truth—she had stumbled upon the dream of another elf, distinct from the initial elf girl’s dream realm.

A tidal wave of bewilderment and shock washed over Heidi. Since the day she received her diploma, never once had she come across such a perplexing scenario in her line of work. Yet here she was, witnessing another dreamer within her “patient’s” dream. What added to the perplexity was the seamless merging of the two dreams, leaving her unable to differentiate one from the other.

An exhilarating realization dawned on Heidi—she had discovered the subject matter for her forthcoming research paper. However, if she dared to pen down this supernatural occurrence, it wouldn’t be a surprise if even the most avant-garde psychologists from the Academy of Truth would embark on an arduous voyage to Pland just to confront and challenge her hypothesis personally.

As these thoughts zipped through her mind at breakneck speed, Heidi promptly withdrew the golden spike, carefully tucking it out of view. Only after this swift movement did the figure before her—sporting a slightly stooped posture and tousled blonde locks—react. He turned his head languidly, revealing a visage that was the embodiment of weariness and puzzlement.

He reminded Heidi of the exceedingly ambitious students she had encountered during her postgraduate days at the academy. These were individuals who, in their desperation to excel, denied themselves food, sleep, or rest. And yet, despite these extreme sacrifices, many still faltered.

In a voice that seemed to wade through the thick fog of exhaustion, the face, which bore the markings of countless sleepless nights, murmured, “Hello. Are you also here to terminate my existence within this dream?”

Jolted from her brooding, Heidi’s once scattered thoughts merged. She responded swiftly, a note of concern evident in her tone, “Also? You’ve been attacked in your dreams before?”

The unkempt elf, who seemed to be of middle age, nodded in affirmation, gesturing towards the ground not far from where they stood. “Look, evidence of their intrusions.”

Peering in the direction he pointed, Heidi could discern only a handful of charred fragments scattered on the ground. “Who are these intruders?” she questioned.

“I’m unsure of their origins. All I remember is questioning them, after which they disintegrated into this state,” the weary elf explained, his voice trailing off as if he was on the verge of drifting into slumber. Shaking his head, he added, “Those were all significant pointers I had underscored earlier.”

A crease formed on Heidi’s forehead as she tried to decipher his cryptic statement. The mental well-being of the elf standing before her seemed askew. The mention of “highlighted key points” struck a chord—could these hints be related to his profession or pursuits in the real world? Was he perhaps an academic or an educator?

Furthermore, while the elf displayed an awareness of his presence within a dream and even recalled being targeted within it, there was evident dissonance in his understanding. Could it be a residual effect of the previous dream invasions? Or was his cognition compromised right from the onset of the dream itself?

“You still haven’t provided an answer to my inquiry, miss,” the middle-aged elf’s voice punctuated Heidi’s reverie, his tone calm despite the surrounding oddity, “Do you intend to harm me?”

“Absolutely not,” Heidi replied without hesitation. The calm and unhurried manner in which the elf posed his question amidst such a surreal and tense environment struck her as rather unusual. Nevertheless, she swiftly offered an explanation about her purpose there, “I am a mental health practitioner—a psychiatrist.”

“A psychiatrist?” The elf’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Affirming his query, Heidi replied, “Exactly, a psychiatrist.” Instinctively, she retrieved the “golden spike” from behind her back—a symbol of her vocation. Touching her forehead and eyes in a practiced gesture, she added, “I’m also a disciple of Lahem.”

“Ah, a specialist then,” the elf mused, seemingly piecing things together, albeit in a somewhat foggy manner. “So, my students must’ve sought your expertise. Have they discerned that their instructor is ensnared within a dream? I had assumed they’d exploit my absence and indulge in a few leisurely days…”

It was apparent to Heidi that the stranger before her had misconstrued something.

Yet, she didn’t feel compelled to rectify his misapprehension. If the dreamer himself attributed a plausible reason for her presence in his dream, it would likely fortify her position within the dream landscape.

Introducing herself properly, Heidi said, “I am Heidi. It’s fortunate that our paths crossed. Could you perhaps share how you found yourself ensnared in this dream?”

“Regarding how I descended into this dream… the details elude me,” the middle-aged elf ruminated, visibly troubled. “However, fragments of what preceded this come to mind… I recall scrutinizing the sun from atop a tower. The sun! Indeed, the sun! Miss Heidi, the sun had extinguished, and I was engrossed in studying its intricate patterns. What’s the current status out there? Was it still dormant when you ventured in?”

“The sun has been rekindled,” Heidi responded, swiftly processing the information he relayed while simultaneously speculating about his actual whereabouts in the real realm.

His reference to a “tower” puzzled her. Pland didn’t house any designated towers dedicated to solar observations. If this elf—whose demeanor suggested roles like that of an educator or academic—employed the term “observing” in a specialized sense, then he must’ve been stationed on a structure that was technologically advanced.

Which locale might that be? Mok? Asudi? Perhaps Wind Harbor?

Additionally, undertaking the audacious task of studying the sun’s surface during its blackout wasn’t a feat a typical “scholar” would brave. Even her own father might waver before embarking on such a perilous endeavor. What could be this elf’s lineage? Which nation harbored such a valiant, albeit sleep-deprived, elven academic?

Vanished in these musings, Heidi was interrupted by the middle-aged elf’s voice once more.

As the elf’s eyes settled on the golden spike that Heidi held, a flash of recognition lit up his face, as though pieces of a forgotten puzzle were slowly falling into place.

“Miss Heidi,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “Earlier on, did you use that instrument to prod the back of my neck?”

Heidi was taken aback.

Why would he choose to ask about that at this particular moment?!

…

“Has Master Taran El yet to rouse from his deep slumber?”

A distinct furrow of worry marred Lucretia’s brow as she observed the still form of the elven scholar. Lying on the bed, his eyes sealed shut, Taran El showed no indication of stirring from his unconscious state.

She had hastily returned to the vessel, Bright Star, carrying the enigmatic “manuscript” that Taran El had entrusted her with. However, after initial scrutiny that yielded no clear answers, she felt an urgency to return to Wind Harbor to ascertain the scholar’s state. Much to her dismay, she discovered him ensnared in an inexplicable deep sleep.

In Wind Harbor, a city-state renowned for its distinguished physicians and eminent scholars from the Academy of Truth, wasn’t there someone capable of rousing the entrapped Taran El?

“Indeed… Indeed, Miss Lucretia,” a young attendant in the chamber, who was assigned to look after the master scholar, responded with a hint of trepidation. Confronted with the legendary “Sea Witch” and her myriad of enigmatic tales, the young protege was visibly daunted. “The physicians are adamant that Master El hasn’t been subjected to any physical harm or toxins. Rather, it’s as though he’s ensnared in an intricate nightmare, perhaps a repercussion of the sun’s abrupt disappearance…”

Lucretia’s sharp eyes roved around the chamber, stopping briefly on a face she recognized among the group of scholars.

“Joshua,” she began, her tone demanding an answer, “Your mentor is well-versed in defensive techniques related to psychology and mental health, isn’t he?”

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Joshua, who had previously found himself reprimanded by the “Sea Witch” for a minor infraction, answered, “Yes, Miss Lucretia. Master El frequently interacts with peculiar relics unearthed from the frontier regions. As a precaution, he regularly undertakes training for mental fortification…”

“It implies that Taran El possesses the expertise to maintain clarity during nightmares and shield himself. Ordinarily, he’d possess the strength to extricate himself from such a dream—yet the current predicament has clearly overwhelmed him.”

Before Lucretia could add another thought, Joshua interjected, “A psychiatrist has been summoned! Their arrival is imminent!”

Lucretia’s expression remained skeptical. “A regular psychiatrist might not be equipped to tackle this enigma. This is not just a simple dream,” she declared. “I intend to transport him to the Bright Star. The resources in my laboratory might be instrumental in this situation.”