Chapter 87:
The Valley Where Dreams Return
The mist curled low that morning, like silk threads woven by invisible hands. Errin walked through it barefoot, his steps careful, slow—not from weakness, but from reverence. His arms cradled Nayel, wrapped in woven gold-leaf fabric gifted by the sect mothers after the child's awakening.
The Forgotten Valley, once his refuge and mystery, seemed different now—grander, quieter, older. The trees leaned in slightly, as if bowing to the one who returned not merely as a man, but as the Father of the Child God.
Behind them, Kei'la followed without a word, eyes cast down, humming the same lullaby that had softened the night before. Her song no longer only for Nayel—it was for the world that awaited him.
The valley New her as Lorein the woman who was their fir everybody....when women of the wove their baskets she always assisted.When they celebrated dawns she danced with them.....goddess KEI'LA never once for millions of years behaved as agoddess in the valley till now.
Trees sang in harmony...the wind responded with their own melody the song was creation.
I. A Valley Remembers
Everywhere Errin stepped, nature responded.
Leaves whispered in patterns only the soul could understand. Stones shimmered faintly, holding memories of when Errin first stumbled into the valley, broken and lost. The air no longer bit like it once had; it cradled him, familiar and forgiving.
> "You are not the same," the wind said.
"No," Errin replied in his heart. "But I am still searching."
They reached the place.
The circle of stone, overgrown and humble, where Errin first fell unconscious after leaving the outer world.
And something stirred.
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II. The Dream Gate
A low hum vibrated through the stone. Nayel, still silent, reached out one small hand. The center of the stone ring glowed.
Images blinked into existence—not illusions, but dreams, unfinished threads of time:
Errin as a youth, chasing shadows.
Kei'la in a world lost to fire, holding a silver blade to her own throat.
Nayel, grown and walking through galaxies, speaking to stars.
Then, a final image: a vast door, etched with the markings of both gods and mortals, splitting open with a single breath.
" This is the place?" Kei'la said, her voice softer than fog.
Errin nodded. "Indeed It's the Dream Gate. I saw it once in a vision. Before I became… this."
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III. The Mark of the Returning One
The stone beneath his feet cracked. A sigil rose from below—spiraling symbols of his lineage, glowing with the force of three heavens. It embedded itself into the archway of the gate, reacting to Errin's presence.
Nayel touched the air.
And the valley sang.
Birds lifted from their perches, roots pulled deeper into the earth. The sun seemed to bend its rays to illuminate the family.
> "He is ready," a voice echoed across the valley.
An ancestral spirit. One of many.
Another whispered, "He remembers all lifetimes but carries no pride."
A third, fainter, cried, "The god-son will walk the valley until the day it ceases to be a valley."
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IV. Cradled by Worlds
Errin placed Nayel on the mossy stone within the circle. The child, impossibly still for a moment, finally blinked—and looked into the sky, wide-eyed and ancient.
Kei'la sat beside him, wrapping her arms around both.
Errin knelt.
"This is your first cradle," he said. "Not the one your mother bore you in, not the one that holds you with warmth—but the one that holds your purpose."
And Nayel finally spoke, not as a child, but as a soul whose journey had only begun:
> "Then let the valley witness the rise. Let the heavens watch. And let time write anew."
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V. The Dreamer's Footstep
The Dream Gate cracked open—not fully, but enough for a sliver of golden breath to escape.
Nayel's eyes glowed with a swirl of galaxies.
And the dreams that had been buried in Errin—the regrets, the unanswered questions, the pain—began to fade like smoke rising from sacred fire.
Not forgotten.
Just… no longer burdensome.
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Errin looked up, one last time.
"I carried you here," he whispered. "Now the path is yours."
Nayel smiled.
And the valley exhaled.
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Next: Chapter 88 – When Ancients Weep, Stars Are Born
The dream gate is now ajar. But opening it fully will require the tears of those who once ruled the stars—and the song of a mother who has seen too many lives fall to ash. Will Nayel walk through as a god? Or will the child lose himself in the echo of destinies?
Shall we continue?